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Story cover for Dreamwalkers by Hblgurl

Dreamwalkers

Leituras 375
Votos 15
Capítulos 9
Tempo 1h 11m

Leituras 375
Votos 15
Capítulos 9
Tempo 1h 11m

I'd always had the dreams. The feelings. As if I was never alone. I got used to the random touch on my back or the light whisper in my ear. But after my birthday, strange things started to happen. Well, more strange. My dreams were quickly becoming nightmares and my reality was becoming more and more of a dream.Todos os Direitos Reservados

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The Room with No Corners , de AshesInBlooms

There is a moment before the dream begins where everything feels still. A breath held between worlds. In that moment, time doesn't move forward or backward-it waits. That's where I exist now. In the pause. In the static. I don't remember the exact day I started to vanish. Maybe it was slow. Maybe I was too quiet for the world to notice. They say the mind protects us from things we cannot bear. But what happens when the thing you're running from is yourself? Somewhere, there's a house that doesn't belong to any map. Its windows never reflect sunlight, and its walls curve so gently that you don't realize they're watching you. There's a girl in the mirror who looks like me, but she remembers things I don't. There's a bathtub filled with water so still it feels like a grave. There's a man I created-kind, warm, and perfectly not real. And there's a truth waiting at the end of the hallway. I'm afraid of it. But I think I've always known it. This story is not a confession. It's not a warning. It's just what happens when the silence gets too loud. And the corners begin to disappear.

The Backrooms: Essence of Desolation, de LiminalOne

Once, the world still meant something. People weren't hollow strangers, trust wasn't a cruel illusion, and freedom flowed as freely as water. Now drinkable water is scarce-and freedom even scarcer. Every step forward costs more than I can give, yet I keep moving, even when surrendering to the endless night would be easier. Why do I keep pressing on through these familiar alleys and shadowed corridors, where only death or desolation waits? Why am I carving these words into the crumbling face of an old concrete wall? When did my hand turn black? And how long ago did it become too late to turn back? ---------------------------- Yoooooo! What's up liminal lovers and clinical schizos! This is a rewrite of a story I made in the past that will likely have a different plot and generally be a thousand times better! Thanks to @_pepperleaf for being my amazing editor! Anyway enjoy the story, Love you guys! -LiminalOne

Out Of Control, de Ribellebella

[18+] Book Two of Control "...And I think I had to go through hell just to reach the top not knowing what prize was meeting me up there." I found out the source of my nightmares all because of one therapy session. All of my trauma floated to the surface. Will I make it out alive? Or will I let it consume me?

Dark Innocence, de twinkleflown

What would you do if you could talk to ghosts? What would you do if you were always an outcast? What would you do if you found out that your mom had lied to you about your father's death? That's exactly what is happened to Jaira. She can talk to ghosts, but she is always an outcast. The voices have stopped for a few weeks. But they come back to warn her, Warn her from something that may change her life forever...

When Stories Wake Up, de FracturedDream

Are you a writer? Do you ever feel guilty... when your characters suffer? When you break them, just to make the story better? You say, "It's just fiction." But what if... it's not? What if your story started feeling the same way? What if the characters you shaped with your words began to remember everything, every heartbreak, every betrayal, every death you wrote for them? And what if they wanted more than just a chapter? So tell me... If the story becomes real... If the characters you once controlled begin to take the pen from your hands... If the story starts writing you... just the way you wrote them... With all the pain, the heartbreak, the twists you never saw coming... What do you think your ending will be?

Give me shelter, de SabastianStefano

Have you ever felt so lonely you believed there was nothing left for you? Stashed away, merely forgotten. I mean you could cry and cry, yet no one would hear you. At least no one you truly once loved. Being yourself can be detrimental to others happiness, and so you down play who you are. You devalue your beliefs, your morals fall short and that hollow rock turns into your Mirror. Do you matter anymore? Would anyone care if you simply disappeared? Could you find your way out of the darkness? Look Closer is one of my favourite quotes and so I'll use it as a guide to understanding the complex characters you're about to meet.

Short Stories and Poems, de CJ_Pride

This is my collection of random short stories and poems that I have written.

I've never had a dad. My mom was shot dead in front of me when I was five. You probably guessed I'm not a very typical teenager. My nightmares are so nasty I wake up more tired than when I go to bed. I thought my life was going to stay the dull ache that it had always been, until I found out the nightmares could be controlled. And *used*. This is the story of me turning it all around.

My Dreams, de BoyoBoyman

Sometimes I have dreams, My memory of these dreams aren't always clear and the stories tend to be a bit jumpy, a lot of these happen because I ate ice cream before bed. NOTE all names and locations have been changed for safety purposes

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Slide 1 of 9

The Room with No Corners cover

The Backrooms: Essence of Desolation cover

Out Of Control cover

Dark Innocence cover

When Stories Wake Up cover

Give me shelter cover

Short Stories and Poems cover

My Dreams cover

The Room with No Corners

There is a moment before the dream begins where everything feels still. A breath held between worlds. In that moment, time doesn't move forward or backward-it waits. That's where I exist now. In the pause. In the static. I don't remember the exact day I started to vanish. Maybe it was slow. Maybe I was too quiet for the world to notice. They say the mind protects us from things we cannot bear. But what happens when the thing you're running from is yourself? Somewhere, there's a house that doesn't belong to any map. Its windows never reflect sunlight, and its walls curve so gently that you don't realize they're watching you. There's a girl in the mirror who looks like me, but she remembers things I don't. There's a bathtub filled with water so still it feels like a grave. There's a man I created-kind, warm, and perfectly not real. And there's a truth waiting at the end of the hallway. I'm afraid of it. But I think I've always known it. This story is not a confession. It's not a warning. It's just what happens when the silence gets too loud. And the corners begin to disappear.