30 horror stories

Dream assassin

The moon hung low in the sky, a bloated corpse among the stars. It was a bad night, the kind that made you want to stay awake just to avoid the dreams that lurked in the shadows of your own mind. But sleep had come for me anyway, wrapping me in its cold arms and dragging me down into the dark.

I was a Dream Assassin, one of the few who could walk the surreal landscapes of the subconscious. My target tonight was a Nightmare, a twisted thing born of fear and feeding on terror. It had been haunting a little girl, invading her sleep every night with visions of monsters and fire. Her parents were at their wit's end, and that's where I came in.

I focused on the girl's face, picturing her soft features and wide eyes. My own eyes fluttered closed, and I reached out with my mind. The world around me began to blur and ripple, like the surface of a pond struck by a stone. I felt the familiar tug in my gut, the sensation of being pulled apart and put back together again. And then I was standing in a child's worst fears.

The little girl's Nightmare had created a world of broken toys and shattered mirrors. I moved through it quietly, my footsteps echoing off the walls of a giant dollhouse. The air was thick with the scent of smoke and burning sugar. I could hear the distant sound of a child's screams, muffled and indistinct.

A figure emerged from the haze. The Nightmare. It was a twisted mockery of a clown, its face painted with a grotesque grin. Flames danced in its eyes, and it held a burning candy cane in one bloated hand. I drew my dagger, the blade etched with symbols of banishment and sleep. The Nightmare saw me and let out a deafening bray of laughter.

"You can't kill me," it taunted, its voice like squeaking balloons. "I'm the fear that lives in every child's heart."

"I'm not here to kill you," I replied, advancing on the creature. "I'm here to make you leave."

The Nightmare charged, its burning candy cane flashing in the dim light. I dodged and weaved, avoiding its clumsy attacks. But for every blow I struck, the Nightmare seemed to grow stronger. It fed on my own fear, growing more real with every passing moment. I could feel its hot breath on the back of my neck, and the sound of its laughter was getting louder.

Suddenly, I was a child again, cowering in the corner of my own bedroom. The Nightmare loomed over me, its flames burning higher. I tried to raise my dagger, but my hand was small and trembling. The Nightmare reached out with a bloated hand, its fingers closing around my ankle like a manacle.

I tried to scream, but my voice was muffled by some unseen force. The Nightmare started to drag me back into the shadows, back into the darkest corners of my own mind. I was powerless to resist, unable to do anything but cling to the floor as it pulled me away.

And then I was sitting up in bed, gasping for air. My room was silent and still, the only sound the beating of my own heart. But as I looked around at the familiar walls, I realized that something was wrong. My window was open, the curtains billowing in the night breeze. And on my bedside table, someone had left a burning candy cane, the flames casting flickering shadows on the wall.

The Nightmare hadn't been banished. It had followed me back.