Passive Nightmare Sans 소설 & 이야기

POV: Dante The relapse came without warning. Dante had been drifting in a shallow, uneasy sleep, he was trapped in a heavy, repetitive nightmare about the ambush at the rail yard. In the dream, the loud screeching of train cars on the tracks echoed all around him, making it impossible to hear where the danger was coming from. The dark shadows of Victor’s men seemed to stretch out, closing in on him. He tried to run, to find cover or fight back, but his feet felt incredibly heavy and slow, as if he were sinking deep into the thick, wet mud near the old mill. No matter how hard he struggled to move, he couldn't get away.

I jolted awake, trembling violently as cold sweat clung to my skin. A nightmare. Only a nightmare… though Hazel remained strangely restless beneath my skin. Suddenly, the door pushed open and Dominic crossed the room in seconds, concern darkening his expression. He was beside me before I could steady my breathing, his hand closing around mine. "Are you hurt, Natalia?" "I heard you from the room beside yours.” I turned my gaze to him as I regained my composure. "I–I'm fine. It was just a nightmare," I said, brushing away strands of hair from my face.

BEVERLY The line between a dream and a nightmare is entirely defined by how fast your heart is beating when you wake up. When my eyes flew open the next morning, my sheets were tangled around my legs like restraints, and the pale, unforgiving light of dawn was filtering through my sheer curtains. I hadn’t slept. Not really. Every time I had managed to drift off into a shallow, exhausted slumber, the memory of Damian’s bare chest—sculpted, scarred, and radiating absolute power—would manifest behind my eyelids. But worse than the memory of his body was the memory of his eyes. That terrifying, instantaneous snap from exhaustion to lethal alertness when my forehead had grazed the drywall.

The speakers didn’t blast with fury; they played a quiet, intimate conversation recorded some minutes before I walked into the study. Loanne’s Voice: "I can’t wait to stop wearing these bridesmaid dresses, Silas. I’m over being the 'other' Vance daughter. Once the SUV tumbles over the cliff tonight, and the papers are in my name... I want her out of the picture too. I want to be the only one left." Silas’s Voice: "Patience, Loanne. We've waited years to dismantle this family. Tonight, the Vance legacy ends. And you’ll finally be the only daughter they ever should have had."

It would be a lot more reassuring to know that the Guardians were not as vulnerable to the Vampires’ attacks as the Hunters were, the way that it should be. Despite the worry on her mind and the uncomfortableness of the cot, eventually, Jo did fall asleep. She knew she was dreaming when she found herself standing in an odd black tunnel. The walls, floor, and ceiling seemed to be made entirely of ash, but it was hard beneath her feet, like stone.

Jess sat up right and once more it was pitch black, that’s when jess understood what this was. “My nightmares.” Jess whispered, her voiced echoed in the darkness, but it was as if Jess had just said the key for everything to explode. Every single one of her bad memories, jumped out of the dark, young Jess sitting with her dead mother, trying to clean her wound, hoping she will wake up if Jess just keeps pressure on it. Her Father chasing her, beating her, screaming at her. Her beast tormenting her once again. All the Jess’s, the young ones or the older ones, each one of them that cried out in pain as they were being cut, burned or beaten, each Jess that was ever told how she should just die,

Your sister is next! Your, Nightmare There was a roaring wolf stamp and the end of the letter. I wonder how they know that I'm alive. First of all, I don't even know who 'they' are. After brainstorming I concluded. I think I know who they are. They surely did not name themselves but they did leave a small sign. The roaring wolf confirms it.

They fall asleep together on the grass floor with the Moon goddess keeping watch over them. Adrian wakes up first, he stretches his body languidly. Learning to control transformations at full moons is a mastery, one that is known to him. For this reason, he can wake up the morning after a full moon and not wonder what havoc he may or may not have wreaked the previous night. Although, there are certain unaccountable scenarios where his true nature shows who still has the upper hand. He's about to get up when he hears a feminine sleepy whimper. He turns around and it's the annoying tyrant that he gave a brush down the other day. He looks at her closely and sees love bites on her neck where her

Her Green eyes danced with mischief. Taking in a deep breath, I managed to squeeze on a smile. “The third thing is no physical contact. You are not allowed—“ “Isn’t that the same thing as the first? And what makes you think I will make the first move?” She snarled, her nose flattened. “For damn sake, Elora, will you just listen?” I said between clenched teeth and heard her laugh dryly. “Sorry, do I know you?” She questioned, her words throwing me off balance.

Please don't kill me Please don’t kill me Please don’t kill me And then her headless body falling to the ground like a weightless bag of sand. Logan immediately woke up abruptly, his body drenched in sweat. He put a hand over his face as he tried to steady his breathing. It had only been a dream, yet it had felt more real than anything.