Horror logo

"The Nightmare That Refused to End"

Trapped in Terror'

By Isra SaleemPublished about a month ago 3 min read
"The Nightmare That Refused to End"
Photo by Bruno Guerrero on Unsplash

I lay in bed, my heart racing, as the darkness closed in around me. It was just a dream, I told myself, but it felt so real. I was trapped in a never-ending cycle of terror, unable to wake up.

In the dream, I was back in my childhood home, but something was off. The walls were twisted and distorted, like a funhouse mirror reflection. I tried to run, but my legs were heavy, as if rooted to the spot.

Suddenly, a figure emerged from the shadows. Its face was a grotesque parody of my own, with eyes that glowed like embers. It spoke in a voice that was both familiar and yet completely alien, its words dripping with malice.

"You'll never escape," it hissed, as it reached out with a bony hand and touched my face.

I tried to scream, but my voice was silenced by some unseen force. The figure began to laugh, a sound that was like a rusty gate scraping against concrete.

As I watched in horror, the figure began to change, its body contorting in ways that defied human anatomy. It grew taller and wider, its face stretching into a macabre grin.

I was paralyzed with fear, unable to move or speak. The figure loomed over me, its hot breath on my face, as it whispered a single word in my ear: "Mine."

And then, everything went black.

But the dream didn't end there. I was trapped in a never-ending loop, reliving the same terror over and over. Each time, the figure grew stronger, its grip on me tighter.

I tried to wake up, but my body refused to respond. I was a prisoner in my own mind, forced to endure the same nightmare forever.

As the dream continued, the figure began to change. Its face morphed into those of people I knew, their eyes black as coal. My parents, my friends, even my own reflection - all were twisted into grotesque parodies, their voices mocking me with cruel laughter.

I was lost in a world of unending horror, with no escape from the darkness that haunted me.

And then, just as suddenly as it had begun, the dream ended. I sat up in bed, gasping for air, my heart still racing with fear.

But as I looked around my darkened room, I realized that the nightmare was far from over. The shadows on the wall seemed to move of their own accord, and I could have sworn I heard a faint whisper in my ear: "Mine."

I knew then that the dream had been more than just a product of my imagination. It was a warning, a message from some dark force that lurked just beyond the edge of reality.

I tried to shake off the feeling of dread, telling myself it was just a dream. But the memory of the figure's twisted face lingered, haunting me. I couldn't shake the feeling that it was still out there, waiting for me.

As I lay in bed, I couldn't help but wonder if the dream had been a warning. Was something evil lurking in the shadows, waiting to strike? I tried to push the thought away, but it lingered, haunting me.

I knew then that the nightmare was far from over. It was just beginning. The darkness that had haunted my dream was now seeping into my reality, and I was powerless to stop it. I was trapped in a never-ending cycle of terror, with no escape from the evil that lurked in the shadows. And as I lay there, paralyzed with fear, I knew that I would never be able to wake up from this nightmare. The darkness had me in its grasp, and it would never let me go. Mine.

how to

About the Creator

Isra Saleem

Versatile writer skilled in both tale & stories. Captivate readers with engaging content & immersive narratives. Passionate about informing, inspiring, & entertaining through words.

Enjoyed the story?
Support the Creator.

Subscribe for free to receive all their stories in your feed. You could also pledge your support or give them a one-off tip, letting them know you appreciate their work.

Subscribe For Free

Reader insights

Be the first to share your insights about this piece.

How does it work?

Add your insights


There are no comments for this story

Be the first to respond and start the conversation.

    Isra SaleemWritten by Isra Saleem

    Find us on social media

    Miscellaneous links

    • Explore
    • Contact
    • Privacy Policy
    • Terms of Use
    • Support

    © 2024 Creatd, Inc. All Rights Reserved.