Welcome To The Nightmare by S.K Nuanes (classic books for 10 year olds TXT) 📕

Dear Journal…
8/3/2013
“When I first walked onto this earth, into this life, a kind of life in where we regret, most of us desire to escape. This nightmare we can never wake up from. Yet some claim there is small lights of hope and faith.
All but merely just lies that will never become a reality to them.
They only exist in your mind.
Some say its better to love, then never loved at all.
Love is a feeling, that doesn’t exist; it is made up an outlet for some humans who can’t contain these mixed feelings. They receive from being in such an intense life. So they claim to love another. When they know there is no such thing as love.

Aren’t we all damned forever, in some way?
Whether an addiction, abuse, desiring someone you can never have or something. We are all in misery.
Some can hide it better then other people. Or deny it.

Now the darkness that is slowly decaying everything, that was once apart of my human existence.
The heart that once pumped blood is nothing but a slowly dying firefly, which is slowly, being consumed by darkness.
My lungs, which would use air they would need to keep me alive.
Yet they were filed with smoke, of sins.

The ghosts of the graveyard were grieving at their tombstones.
Others were begging the Dark One to allow them to return to the Human World, one last chance. One last chance to let them see the ones they once knew.
There was cruel unwelcoming wind that blew across the cold world.
Shadows seemed to come to life, as if they were dancers dancing in the dark.
When you looked up you could see the moon, and the stars yet you never saw the sun.
The world was trapped in a night that lasts forever.
Meaning predators of the night ran wild; no hiding for them, only for the weaker prey would have to hide forever.
Underground ran a long tunnel, with glass walls on each side, in the rooms, where the most tragic deaths ever.
The victims were trapped in there, suffering over and over.
The glass was sound proof so, by-passers could enjoy their misery.
Down few flights of stairs deeper into the earth, there was a dark looking portal; through it was into a throne room, this one was different from Satan’s Throne Room.
This one had dark purple curtains on long narrow windows, which over looked a sea of fire.
There was a long narrow dark blue rug leading from the wrap gate, to two thrones.
One was taller, it was a dark red, it looked like it was made from a dark black metal, the top had spikes on it.
The one next to it was tall, but it wasn’t as big as the first one, the cushions were a dark purple, there were no spikes on it, it let there were curves that went out to the sides.
The ceiling was a like a dome, long fire pits that ran on the side of the walkway.
A dark ghostly figured drifted down the isle, as it robe was gently blowing there were soft screams coming from it.
The face was hidden; it sat down in the main throne.
“You may enter.” The figure commanded.
Dark leather boots walked down the rug, he had dark pants with a chain on them, his shirt was white but it was covered in blood, his skin was glowing, his eyes were sharp and had a lust to them.
His black hair was a mess, yet it looked soft as sheep wool.
“Hello Mastema.” The Reaper said, in a bloodthirsty voice.
Also known as Dmitri.
“Hello Master, what summons me today?” Mastema asked.
Reaper then appeared to be thinking then he spoke, “How is the Devil's plan, going?"
"Not well, he needs his son to be on his side. Plus the five crystals of purity."
The Reaper smiled then chuckled, "Well then, we should work and get Prince Stubborn to give in."
Dmitri smiled evilly and bowed, "As you wish, master."
"Since I should help my brother, in what he wants. Besides I haven't met my nephew." Reaper chuckled.

The ceiling fan slowly spun around, I didn’t feel even like lifting my head, or turning my head to check the time.
It felt as if time hadn’t passed as I laid in my bed, it felt as if all my limbs were being held down by pounds of plutonium. Crushing my bones, not allowing myself to move. Maybe it was cause I didn’t want to do anything, or was I going to die soon?
So many questions, so few answers.
The light was trying to creep into the room; the dark blue curtains were keeping the light out. There was a familiar scent that filled the room; it was the smell of breakfast.
Bacon, pancakes and the sound of coffee was brewing in the kitchen, I never ate breakfast.
Who was in the kitchen? Or was I loosing it?

I managed to push myself out of bed, and looked outside it was raining, the dark clouds covered the sky.
The dark woods were filled with fog, the fog was very thick, you could cut it with a knife.
Not a single car was on the road, as if everyone was killed off last night.
It didn’t seem as if the fog was going to clear anytime soon.
I didn’t think about going downstairs, I felt as if I had taken a bath in blood, the feeling of warm blood consumed my skin.
It felt as if it was running off, but although a wound kept letting blood out.
A never-ending flow of blood, almost similar to the guilt I had brought upon my shoulders.
I couldn’t throw the guilt off of me, unless I gave in.
Give into the killer inside of me, after years of watching humans. I have figured out something.
Humans are just as cruel as a demon.
Some deny it, or they keep it locked away. As if they are afraid to let it out and hurt someone.
Keeping the pain and anger locked inside of you, is like someone suffocating you.
You are torturing yourself from the inside.
Rather being in pain, then causing it.
Imagine being in an ocean of blood and everything you kept inside. Putting yourself through that, trying to swim up to the surface, but having stone blocks of hate tied to your feet, pulling you under.
While everyone watches you drown from the other side. Watching what a disgrace, you have become.
Most of the time, humans can’t stand it and they snap.
The ones who bottle things up inside always snap the worse.
I have suffered for six hundred and four years, and haven’t snapped yet.
Although question is how long can someone last, until they loose it?


I walked into the bathroom, which was large, the tile was large and white, the mirror was large, there were few plants in there, there were two round sinks set into the counter which was marble.
There was a large deep tub, a shower in the corner, the shower had black tiles, and there were shampoo and conditioner. Soap everything for showering.
In the mirror was my reflection, I hadn't changed one bit, I still had my short dark brown hair which I kept in the style known as Diadema, it layered, short on the sides.
I slid off my grey sweat pants, along with my boxers; I stepped into the shower, and turned on the water.
I turned the handle to the hottest temperature it could go to.
It only took few seconds for it to warm up, I looked down as the water was waking me up. It felt as if the blood was apart of my skin, an extra layer of skin I could never wash off.

After an hour I stepped out of the shower, and grabbed a red towel and wrapped it around my waist, and walked into my bedroom the TV was on and the news was on.
The news reporter had short brown hair; it looked like it hadn’t been washed in weeks.
She had on a white suit, with a purple under shirt, on she had papers in front of her.
“Good morning, last night there was a man who was found dead at the bottom of his apartment stairs.
A witness said it looked like a successful suicide.
The victim was sixteen year old, Ryan Duce. His family asked not to be disturbed.”
Was it a real suicide case, or was he being possessed?
I stood there listening to more of the story; sometimes demons used a body then toss them and their host into death’s arms.
I seen it many times, right before the body hits the ground. The demon leaves the host and, the human sees right the last moment before they die. That is how must possessions end, sometimes the demon, will get their host sent to jail.
I turned off the TV, and got on dark blue jeans. Then grabbed a black v-neck shirt and slipped it on.
I grabbed a small towel and dried my hair, and then there was a knock at the front door.
I stood there trying to figure out who it was; I couldn’t pick up a scent. Then they rang the doorbell, which made its typical ding-dong. Which lasted for a few seconds, I made my way down the hall and looked over the balcony, which over looked an entryway, I jumped over the railing. Then I looked at the door, which was double door, a dark brown with no windows, but a peephole. I opened the door,
a bullet ripped into my shoulder, knocking me off my feet, there stood a Demon Hunter. He had short light brown hair; he hadn’t shaved so he had a scruffy look to his face, he had on a windbreaker jacket on, which was a dark navy. His shirt was a light yellow; he had on black sweats on. He looked about twenty-five.
“Ayperos Hellure?” The hunter asked.
I stood up and ripped the bullet out, “And I just got cleaned up.” I groaned annoyed, then exhaled rolling my eyes, “what do you want?”
The hunter reached into his jacket and pulled out a scroll, then said, “You have murdered Katherine Sapphire Gray, for that murder you have to pay.”
I forgot if you kill a high ranked Demon Hunter, and if they find out how they die. That demon can be executed or be trapped in their head quarters, and be tortured until the end of time.
The hunter grabbed a knife and then ran at me, I jumped up and landed behind him.
There were only two options, one to kill him. Or two let him kill me.
I grabbed him by the neck then growled low, “How did you find me?"
The hunter narrowed his eyes at me, “There are ways, to find the demons that hide in the shadows.”
“Give me an answer, if you won’t I will kill you.” I growled low.
The hunter narrowed his eyes at me then said, “I find it shocking that Katherine loved you. Maybe it was an act out of pity.”
My hand gripped tighter around his neck, his soul was resting right inside of him, and I could easily take it. His expression spoke fearless, his soul spoke fearful.
We all speak two expressions, an interior expression and an exterior expression.
We show the exterior expression to others, and hide