"The Man in My Nightmares Brings Me Flowers" Every night, she dreams of a man who murders her in different ways — always calm, always intima...

The Man in My Nightmares Brings Me Flowers It started like any nightmare — the kind you shake off in the morning.

He'd be waiting in a different place every night. A train station. A hotel hallway. A cemetery soaked in moonlight. He’d smile. Whisper something. Then he'd kill her. Slowly. Gently. Always with devotion in his eyes.

She began to fear sleep. Until she noticed… bruises on her neck. A cut on her arm. Real.

And then the flowers came.

Fresh black dahlias in a glass vase on her windowsill. A note in looping script: “You looked so beautiful when you stopped breathing.”

No one believed her. So she stopped telling them.

Last night, she didn’t wake up screaming. She woke up calm. With a voice in her ear.

“You’re getting used to me,” he murmured, spooning her like a lover. “And soon… you won’t want to wake up at all.”