Can A Horror Story App Adapt Classic Ghost Tales For Mobile?

Seven Classic Faery Tales are given a very adult makeover. You are entering a world of myth, magic, and Immortals. Throw in the humans for the added spice of erotica and violence. Mix together and you have dark adult faery tales ........ Do not read if easily offended!

I was always sick as a kid. My parents were desperate. They’d try anything. So they got me a bunch of "guardian angels." Next thing I know, I'm set up and tossed into a horror game. Turns out, Medusa is my godmother. The ghost girl? My childhood playmate. And the final boss, a vampire? He's my fiancé. The first time we met, I was in a blind panic. I tripped and fell right onto his chiseled chest. "Oh—I'm so sorry! I wasn't looking—" I gasped, looking up at him. The words tumbled out in a rush. "And you're really handsome—but I didn't mean to fall on you! I have a heart condition!" The boss let out a laugh. He wiped the blood from his hands and swept me up into his arms. "Don't you worry," he purred, his voice dangerously smooth. "As your fiancé, I promise... I'll fix you right up."

When my boyfriend claimed he was the final boss of a horror game, I laughed it off. What kind of terrifying final boss spends every day at home doing laundry, cooking meals, handing over all his money, and constantly clinging to his wife for affection? Then, one day, I entered the horror game myself. The infamous final boss, the one every player feared, pinned me against the headboard, slowly testing the limits of my body. He leaned close to my ear and whispered, “So? Do you believe me now?”

I found an old quill in an antique shop and decided to buy it since I have always wanted to write with quills. However, as soon as I touched the quill to the paper, I was transported into the book. I wasn't the only one there, though three males who always hide their identities behind masks were in the book with me. They claim the quill belongs to them, and I must return it. Since I refuse, they follow me into every book I go into. One day, I was debating which of my mature books to write when I accidentally spilled the ink onto my book, 1001 Dark Tales. The only way they'll help me out of the book is if I give the quill back, and there is now a fourth. As I go through more of the book with them, I start noticing things. Things I had never planned for in my book, and it concerned me because even though I hadn't written those parts yet, none of the other stories I had used the quill on had ever gone that off track. However, when we tried to leave the book, it wouldn't let us back out. It seems we're stuck in the book until we finish all 1001 Dark Tales.

I had a perception disorder that messed with how I saw and felt stuff. So when I got dropped into a horror game, everyone else freaked out trying to survive— Me? I thought I was in a dating sim. I raised a young fae like she was my kid, fell for the vampire count, and treated the undead like my in-laws. The first time I saw the vampire—face torn up, soaked in blood—I straight-up blushed. "You're really handsome." He froze. Then, low and uncertain: "Am I... really handsome?"

I was a housewife with severe OCD and a serious cleanliness obsession. I accidentally entered what I thought was a wholesome parenting game where I beat the crap out of my rebellious son, smothered my adorable daughter with love, and ripped out the corpse-stitching on my husband to sew him back up. On the day I cleared the game, the three of them tearfully sent me off. Only during the final settlement did I learn the truth: my husband was the ultimate boss of the horror game. My son was an infamous demon who left no players alive, and my daughter had crushed the skulls of a hundred players. Wasn't this supposed to be a parenting game? Turns out, I had walked straight into a horror game.