The Nightmare Inflictor (5 page)

“You’re a monster,” Lydia says.

I press my lips together and my heart races. Even though I know she’s not talking about the real me, it still gets under my skin.

My resolve snaps and I pull myself from Lydia’s dream. I can’t do it. I can’t be who I am. Inflicting nightmares on people makes me a monster and if I don’t do it, I may have a chance to save my humanity.

I rush from the guest apartment building and fall onto the dewy grass. I roll over and stare at the glittery night sky. I’ll have to get used to the dark if I want to resist my nightmare inflicting side. I’m willing to sacrifice everything I enjoy to not be a monster though. I’ll hate myself less. I just need to have control over who I am. It’s the only way to stop feeling guilty about my ability.

“Nadia?”

I shift to my side and meet Alyssa’s gaze. Her red hair is loose down her back and she’s wearing pajamas with a blanket slung over her shoulders. She yawns as she shuffles closer and then she plops down on the grass next to me.

She pulls her knees to her chest. “Is everything okay?”

I turn away from her and stare at the sliver of moon. “Why wouldn’t it be?”

I can’t tell her the truth. She’d never understand. She’s not a monster like me. I don’t meet her gaze even though I feel her eyes on my back. If I ignore her long enough, maybe she’ll return to her room and leave me alone. It’s all I want right now.

“I saw...” Her voice trails off. After a moment she touches my shoulder. “I’m here for you, Nadia. Don’t shut me out.”

“I’m not, Lys. I just had a bad night—a bad week actually. The last few nightmares have made me feel like such a monster.” I rub my temples.

Alyssa tugs my arm until I roll over to face her. “How many times do I have to tell you that you’re not a monster?”

I smile. “A billion.” I sit up and lean on my elbows. “And you’re right. I’m not a monster.”
Not anymore,
I think.

If the only way for me to not feel like a monster is to stop invading dreams, then it’s what I have to do. I have to at least try. I want to control my nightmare inflictor side and I refuse to give my inner monster the power to define me. Starting today, I’m Nadia Petrov, half-human, not Nadia Petrov, the nightmare inflictor.

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

I would not be where I am today without so many people in my life. I’d like to thank those who helped me get The Nightmare Inflictor into my reader’s hands. I’d like to thank Jamie Hall, my sister-in-law and my most excited cheerleader, for the time she spent discussing my ideas and also for her enthusiasm over every project I send her way. Thanks to Jan Moran, my mother-in-law and writing partner, for helping me improve my craft and laughing at hilarious typos with me.

Thanks to my parents and the rest of my family, and also my friends. Without you, my world wouldn’t be as bright.

Lastly, thanks to my readers. It’s your enthusiasm and positivity that makes me love writing.

ABOUT GINNA MORAN

Ginna Moran is a writer living in San Diego, California. She started writing poetry as a teenager in a spiral notebook that she still has tucked away on her desk today. Her love of writing grew after she graduated high school and she completed her first unpublished manuscript at age eighteen.

When she realized her love of writing was her life’s passion, she studied literature at Mira Costa College in Northern San Diego. Besides writing novels, she was senior editor, content manager, and image coordinator for Crescent House Publishing Inc. for four years.

Ginna is now the Co-Founder of Silver Starlight Designs, where she took her passion of reading, writing, and design and co-created a company that provides design services for authors.

Aside from Ginna’s professional life, she enjoys binge watching television shows, playing pretend with her daughter, and cuddling with her dogs. Some of her favorite things include chocolate, anything that glitters, cheesy jokes, and organizing her bookshelf.

Ginna Moran loves to hear from readers so visit her online at www.GinnaMoran.com. You can also find her on Facebook, Twitter, and Pinterest. If you loved
The Nightmare Inflictor
, leave a positive review online for fellow readers.

Ginna Moran is currently hard at work on her next novel.

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1
. A TERRIBLE HOST

NADIA

The room spins and my stomach lurches. I feel so sick from hunger that I can barely stand. I grip the small wooden table in the hallway and blink until my vision restores.

My chest tightens and I drag my feet forward. The lobby to the dormitory is empty this time of night and the only light glows from a flat screen television that was accidentally left on.

I keep my feet moving. If I stay out here any longer, I won’t make it back to my room at all. I cross through the lobby and a glass door slides open into another hallway. The ceiling is much lower and the air is stuffy.

“Twenty more feet,” I say out loud. “Keep walking. You can make it. You’re not hungry. You’re not hungry. You’re not hungry.” I chant the words over and over like an anthem, but it doesn’t help.

I’m starving.

I stop at my closed door and touch my hand to the doorknob. I don’t twist to open it, but instead turn to face the closed door behind me. A small whiteboard is nailed to the wooden door. A red heart is drawn on the whiteboard and the name Alyssa is written across the heart in black block letters.
Just go in quietly. Alyssa said you could use her anytime you needed.

I wish Alyssa never made the offer in the first place. She doesn’t understand what I’ll do to her. She’s going to despise me for it. I hate that I let my hunger get so out of control that I’m outside my best friend’s dorm, dying to give her nightmares. Creating nightmares is my sustenance.

I run my finger along the door and count to myself. I stare at my plaster white fingers. My long nails are tinted blue and dark purple veins pulse on my wrist. I haven’t been outside in daylight in weeks, and it shows. I’m bound to the night the longer I resist. But it’s okay; I love the night.
You’re lying.

The door swings open.

A small nightlight shines from below her desk and casts shadows across the wall and her bed. She doesn’t stir when I click the door shut.

I swallow hard. Alyssa is hidden under her dark brown comforter. On her night table is a stack of books and a small reading lamp. Tacked to her walls are hundreds of sketches. They’re so full of detail and accuracy that the drawings could be mistaken for black and white photographs.

I glide across the room, my feet above the threadbare carpet, and run my fingers over a drawing of a moon setting on water. Below the glittering path of moonlight, a body lies in the sand and a giant fishtail cuts through the waves. It’s surreal and magical, and I’m not sure if it was a vision or her imagination.

I plant my boots on the carpet. I’d give anything to leave the Creature Council’s compound. If my father didn’t work here, I’d go somewhere else far from this place. But, he’d never let me leave. It’s his way of protecting me. He doesn’t want to lose me like he lost my mother. The images Alyssa sketches will always be of faraway places to me. Places I will only ever see in dreams.

I look away from the wall. I can’t torture myself anymore with ideas of the outside world. This, standing in Alyssa’s room while she sleeps, is my world. I just wish I didn’t hate it so much.

I kneel next to Alyssa’s bed and tuck my white hair behind my ears. It’s lost all its pigmentation during my failed attempt at a hunger strike. When I don’t create nightmares, it reveals me as the monster I am. I’m frightening enough at the moment that everyone in the compound is uneasy around me. Once I eat, I’ll look more human again.

I pull back the dark brown comforter just enough to see Alyssa’s gorgeous red hair sprawling over her pillow. Her creamy complexion is flawless and she looks as beautiful asleep as she does awake. She’s so alive and full of life compared to me, with my withered, stringy hair and gaunt figure.
You’ll look less like a nightmare inflictor soon.

But I am a nightmare inflictor—just like my father.

I run my hands over Alyssa’s hair and press my thumbs to her temples and rest my fingers on her scalp. My vision fades despite my open eyes. My whole body trembles as I force my way into her head.

I’m overwhelmed by a falling sensation as I manifest myself into Alyssa’s dream world. Gray fog swirls around me and I wave my hand, blowing it away. As it clears, my eyes widen in wonder. Dreams are always so magnificent and breathtaking. I wish I could dream on my own.

I stand in the center of a vibrant valley speckled with red, yellow, and orange poppies. A crystalline waterfall rushes over a black rock cliff and into a translucent lake. I glide to the pebbly shoreline and peer at glittering silver fish swimming with a gracefulness I wish I had.

Stop messing around.

I pull my hands from my pockets. This is the part I love and hate the most. It’s why I’m called a nightmare inflictor—because I ruin the best dreams. I destroy them and devour them.

I shift and force my feet to touch the ground. I’m no longer an observer to Alyssa’s dream, but a participant, and by the time I’m through, she’ll regret her offer. Even the toughest people can be frightened by their dreams.

My cracked lips curve into a smile. I taste the sweet chocolate flavor dripping onto my tongue just from breathing the air. Every dream tastes differently, but they’re all mouthwatering and fulfilling. The deep, insatiable hunger starts to subside the moment I run my hand over the crystal clear lake.

The water churns and darkens and the fish pop up to the surface. Their dead bodies smell rancid and I turn away toward the field of poppies.

Each step I take leaves an oily footprint that seeps into the vibrant green grass, killing it. I bend over and tap the blossoming flowers and they shrivel up and disintegrate. Everything I touch rots and decays, turning this beautiful paradise into a hellish place fit for monsters like me.

Laughter echoes through the air and I jerk my head in its direction. I crave the very noise I’m hearing and it cuts short, leaving me in deadening silence. I stomp up the hillside and smile as every plant dies around me. The azure sky darkens as gray clouds roll in. Thunder booms and I lick my lips, sensing a tinge of fear coursing through the air. I breathe deeply, sucking it into my soul.

“We have to run for cover, love,” a deep, masculine voice says.

I reach the top of the hill and peer into a forest of tall redwood trees. The trees are taller than the hill I’m standing on and yet I didn’t see them from the valley.
Stop getting distracted. Find the dreamer and leave.

I follow the voices deep into the forest. My boots crunch on dried leaves, turning them to mush. I smack my hands against the reddish-brown tree trunks as I pass. They dry and crack, and dead leaves rain down as if I were standing amid a raging storm.

I pause, leaning against a dying tree trunk wider than a car, and stare through the thick greenery at a couple sitting on a red blanket. Between them lies a wooden picnic basket with a baguette protruding from it. The boy drops a green glass bottle and it clatters to the ground, shattering into a million sparkling green pieces. His mouth gapes open, but he doesn’t scream. Instead, he reaches over and picks up the neck of the broken bottle and points it at me.

I can’t help smiling at his bravery.

He jumps to his feet and steps in front of Alyssa who doesn’t move. She stares at me without emotion. In this dream world, I’m not Nadia Petrov. I’m Alyssa’s worst nightmare. I stop ten feet away and cock my head to the side.

Alyssa’s dream boy is perfect. His dark brown hair is cut short on the sides and is styled neatly with hair gel. His almond shaped, coffee brown eyes narrow as he glares at me and his jaw twitches as he twists his mouth into a scowl. He’s tall, over six feet, and tan from hours outside.

The veins in his muscular arms swell as he squeezes the broken bottle and he rolls his shoulders, preparing for a fight he can’t win. Alyssa stares between us and reaches out to touch the boy’s leg. He turns his head to glance over his shoulder, then turns back to me.

I don’t move.

Alyssa clears her throat. “You should leave, Lucas.” She stands and grabs his shoulder.

He tenses. “I’m not leaving you. Can’t you see you’re in danger?”

She smiles softly. “You’re mistaken, babe. It’s not me he’s after.”

Alyssa is afraid of someone—a man. Without mirrors to see myself in the dream world, I don’t know who I appear to be, but since they didn’t run away screaming, I’m guessing I’m not a hideous monster. Alyssa isn’t afraid of monsters—she’s terrified of a man.
I wonder who...

Before he can question her, I glide over the dried leaves and cup his face in my hands. He explodes into a cloud of black dust and I suck in breath after breath of his essence.

My hunger dissipates and I’m left facing Alyssa. She doesn’t run, but just stands there with tears gleaming in her eyes. Her red hair blows in a breeze and she stares at the ground where remnants of her dream boy lie mixed with rotting leaves.

She covers her mouth with her hand. “You killed him.”

My mouth drops open. Things are clearer now that I’m not starving, and a horrible pit settles in my stomach. I can’t believe I’m standing here destroying Alyssa’s dream. I need to leave, and the only way out is to finish off the dreamer and consume the nightmare.