A History Of Fear Novels & Stories

But I can’t shake off this fear, this cold feeling that something terrible is coming. Because I know what I saw in that Gustavo mansion seventeen years ago. And God help us… if history dares to repeat itself.

I had been compelled to silence, gripped by the irrational fear that somehow even after all of those years, should I speak of it, that those things would seek me out and once again wreak havoc in my life. It has eaten my whole personality and I can’t help myself. I’ve been terrorized with those hallucinations and as time goes by it becomes vicious and dangerous. I confronted those fears and set out to vanquish those tormented memories once and for all by not sharing them with others, the delusions of a troubled child. I have held on to my scepticism and rationality for dear life. I have allowed them to define me. I have been plagued by an overwhelming sense of unease. I attributed this to th

That's how I knew there was more to the story that he wasn't telling me. "Is Lucy really alright? Or is there anything I should know?" "honestly, Killian, just ask her. If she wants you to know, she will tell you. All I am going to say is. She is not as tough as she puts on. Her fear is real, and it can take control. You'll know when it happens because Astrid is really protective of her and will take control when Lucy is falling apart when we were kids before we even had our wolves. Lucy used to look like she was having a panic attack when she was feeling an emotion too big for her. The first time I ever met Lucy, she was sitting on a swing, and she was breathing super heavily. I thought she

Carleton smirks at me, while I give him the finger and plop down beside Carrie. She climbs into my lap and pulls the book in front of her. We start reading through the material. There were a lot of details about hybrid wolves. I had no idea we had such a rich history. There used to be more hybrid wolves, but the fear of their powers caused many to be destroyed by their own Pack. The fear that they would take over the wolf Pack and destroy its resources was a big fear.

Caught in the grip of fear, Adrian started to move backward. Unfortunately, there was a wall behind him, leaving him cornered and trembling. Strangely, he felt an overwhelming sense of fear now. In the past, he could handle any situation with composure. Even when he was at his wit's end, he had never felt this scared. The man kept coming closer. Adrian's heart raced, and he nervously closed his eyes. Suddenly, the fear disappeared, but he hesitated to open his eyes. In the dark, it felt like he was reliving his entire life, from birth to growing up.

His voice carried across the city, across the kingdom, and across history itself—a single sentence, a single regret, a single truth. "I was afraid too." The cult leader fell to his knees. The wound shuddered violently, not with anger, but with understanding. The realization struck me suddenly: the wound had never been rage, never hatred, and never evil. It was unresolved fear—fear given form, fear passed down through generations, and fear nobody had ever confronted until now. The fracture began closing, slowly and painfully. The darkness receded from the sky, and the city gasped. People pointed upward as hope spread like wildfire. The wound was healing—actually healing.

Sharper. Not fear. Something closer to calculation.

but I can't finish my sentence. Before I get the chance, I see his body stiffen and his eyes widen with fear. And out of a reflex I turn around with a jerk to see what makes him so scared. History is gaining momentum in repetition. The rowboat loses its balance again from my too violent movement and starts to rock. I feel powerless, frozen by an enormous fear. It's not the fall overboard, but the end of this horror that I fear. I stiffen, this time unable to act. My trauma and my grief has been rekindled. All I can do is close my eyes. I don't want to experience it again. I can't bear to lose him again in front of my eyes.

Turning to the functioning laptop beside him ,he stole a glance at the sound buttons before he began to type. ¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶ Fear, that horrid emotion that weakens one, subjects one to levels below that one would never have succumbed to. It was surprising how it was easily acquired;by the loudest of sounds, by the slightest of sounds and by even no sound at all. It had stunned the children, shaken them to their bone marrows.

I had been afraid only once in my life, but that was exceedingly a long time ago. Unfortunately, my fear was born from it. The fear of fangs. I called it fangtophobia. Weird, I know. Scientifically speaking, that fear didn't exist. Or to be more accurate, that nomenclature didn't exist. But my fear of fangs though, for me, breathed and lived inside my entire being. Inside my blood, my nerve endings and synapses. It had haunted me always, day and night. It gave me no rest.