A Stranger’s Nightmare
807 Words
Alina Kane jolted awake, gasping for breath.
Her heart pounded against her ribs, her skin damp with sweat. The nightmare had been so vivid—bloodstained hands reaching for her, a voice calling her name. But the worst part? The man from her dream had red eyes.
She sat up, clutching her sheets as her breaths came in sharp bursts. The image burned into her mind—a towering figure cloaked in shadows, crimson eyes gleaming like embers in the darkness. He had spoken, but she couldn’t recall the words.
She glanced at the clock. 3:17 AM.
Too late to sleep, too early to start the day.
With a deep exhale, she pushed herself up, swinging her legs over the side of the bed. The room was dimly lit by the streetlamp outside, casting faint silver beams through the window. Everything was as it should be—her bookshelf stacked with fantasy novels, the dreamcatcher swaying slightly above her bed, her small desk cluttered with sketches and unfinished assignments.
Yet, an unshakable feeling crept over her. Something was wrong.
Shoving her fingers through her tangled hair, she tried to slow her breathing. It was just a dream. A stupid, meaningless dream.
But lately, it didn’t feel like that.
For weeks, she had been seeing things—shadows moving in the corners of her vision, whispers curling through the air like invisible fingers. Twice now, she had glimpsed him—the man with red eyes.
And tonight, the dream had felt different. Real.
The kind of real that made her bones ache with something she couldn’t name.
Shaking off the lingering unease, she pushed herself to her feet and wandered to the window. The city stretched out before her—rows of old brick buildings, neon signs flickering against the darkness, the occasional car humming down the quiet street.
Her gaze dropped to the sidewalk below.
And froze.
A figure stood beneath the streetlamp, motionless, staring up at her window.
Alina’s breath hitched.
The figure was tall, dressed in dark clothing that seemed to melt into the night itself. His face was shadowed, but she could feel his gaze—heavy, unwavering, like a predator assessing its prey.
Her fingers tightened around the curtain.
Not real. This isn’t real.
But when she blinked, he was still there.
And then, in the span of a heartbeat—he was gone.
Vanished.
Alina stumbled back, her chest tightening.
What the hell was happening?
She pressed a trembling hand against her forehead. Maybe she was losing it. Maybe the sleepless nights were finally messing with her head.
She turned away from the window, willing herself to forget the stranger’s haunting presence.
But deep down, she knew.
This wasn’t her imagination.
And whoever he was…
He was watching her.
Alina barely made it through the next day.
She had spent most of the morning in a daze, the memory of the stranger lingering like a ghost in the back of her mind.
At work, she had nearly dropped an entire tray of drinks at the café. Twice. Her coworker, Jess, had given her a suspicious look, nudging her ribs as she wiped down the counter.
"Okay, spill. What’s up with you today?"
Alina hesitated. "Nothing. Just didn’t sleep well."
Jess raised an eyebrow. "Liar. You look like you saw a ghost."
If only it were that simple.
Alina forced a laugh. "I’m fine, seriously."
Jess didn’t look convinced, but thankfully, their shift got busy enough that she didn’t push the subject.
By the time Alina got home that evening, exhaustion was pulling at her limbs. She dropped her bag by the door and collapsed onto her bed, sighing heavily.
Maybe she just needed sleep. A full, dreamless night.
But sleep never came.
Because at exactly 3:17 AM, she woke with a start.
And this time, she wasn’t alone.
---
A chill swept through the room, raising the hairs on her arms.
Alina lay frozen, staring at the darkness. Something was different. The air felt heavier, charged with an unspoken tension.
Then—a whisper.
Low, almost inaudible, but definitely there.
Her throat tightened. She slowly turned her head, scanning the room. Nothing moved. The door was shut. The window was locked. Yet the feeling of being watched was stronger than ever.
Her fingers curled around her blanket.
Then—movement.
A flicker in the shadows near her closet.
Alina’s breath caught.
She wasn’t imagining this. Someone was here.
Heart hammering, she reached for her bedside lamp and flicked it on.
Nothing.
The room was empty.
But she swore, for just a second, she had seen a shape—tall, standing just at the edge of the light.
She sucked in a shaky breath. This isn’t normal. This isn’t just paranoia.
Something was wrong with her.
Or worse…
Something was coming for her.
- Writer
