A History Of Fear Novels & Stories

It smiled bitterly. “We were young enough to think sacrifice was simple.” Lucien looked troubled. Like pieces of forgotten history were suddenly rearranging themselves in his mind. “What happened?” The creature’s gaze dropped. “Fear.” Nobody spoke. Because fear was a believable answer. Fear ruined more things than monsters ever did. The creature continued softly. “People were afraid of losing themselves.” Its eyes found mine. “They wanted guarantees.” I swallowed. Because I understood that. Maybe more than I wanted to. The fear of becoming something you don’t recognize.

"That is why when we look at the dark and claim we see ghosts, it might just be the product of the human mind, right? Our brain manipulates images through fear." The girl jumped off the wall in front of him before grinning. She tiptoed before messing up with his hair. "Funny how you know such things and still get scared of the supernatural." Sane pouted. "Knowledge can't stop fear, Haniel, at least not every time. Like we are all aware, the longer the days we spend alive, the closer we are to our graves, but that awareness and knowledge still don't stop other people from fearing death." Sane peered his head to look at the houses of Nikolaj’s and Edmund’s as they passed by them. "And we can n

She knew she had seen the fear in the woman’s eyes earlier when she took her plate to the kitchen but now she had little to no fear. She just couldn’t understand it. She sighed, shaking her head before going back to her reading. She was reading a book on the history of the kingdom. She had already found many things were different in comparison to the history books she had read before and knew something was off but didn’t really pay mind to it.

"But the threatening quality — the full seeing — has become, through the years, the thing that reduces the fear rather than activating it. Because the full seeing has been consistently good. Consistently accepting. Consistently not using what it sees against me." "So the fear is learning," Dr. Farrow said. "Yes," Ernest said. "The fear is learning that the thing it was protecting against is not the threat it believed it was." "And the fear accepts this learning?" she said. "Slowly," Ernest said. "The episodic nature is the learning in progress. The fear surfaces, encounters the evidence, and retreats. Each time it retreats a little faster." "Each spring the foxgloves come up a little stronge

"The records are also clear that the evidence was spectral. That the accusers were young girls seeking attention. That the governor's wife was accused and suddenly the trials stopped." Sha's jaw tightened. "The council has verified the records." "The council has verified the records that support their version of history." The class was silent. Master Theron turned back to the board and picked up his chalk. "The Great Purge was not justice. It was fear. Fear of the unknown. Fear of the different. Fear of the powerful. The wolves abandoned their allies because they were scared. And they have been paying for that decision ever since." He wrote something on the board and the chalk squeaked and t

I hesitated, hand hovering over the handle. The king who had ruled for centuries suddenly felt afraid of one small, defiant woman. And that fear was the most terrifying thing I had felt in a thousand years.

Fenrir, whose courage had carried him through countless wars, found his hands trembling. "What..." His voice caught. "...was that?" The Moon Goddess kept her gaze fixed upon the crimson eclipse. "The First Fear." Killian frowned. "I don't understand." She took a slow breath. "You have learned where grief came from." She looked toward Lumen. "You have learned where loneliness came from." Her eyes drifted upward again. "But long before either existed... there was fear." The Book of Origins floated from Celestia's hands. Though its final page had been burned away, a new image appeared upon its cover. It showed an endless sea of silver light. Within that sea stood the Moon Goddess, alone, before

~ Rocco's POV ~ Fear isn’t an emotion for a Giordano, it’s a vital organ we needed to survive this God forsaken hell hole. It’s the very thing that keeps your heart beating when the world wants it to stop. For me, fear began with the scent of damp wool and the sound of my mother’s shallow breathing. I don’t remember her face clearly, just the way she used to hide me in the floorboards of our cramped, crumbling apartment whenever a black car rolled down the street. We lived in wreckage of a house and for five years, I thought we were hiding from monsters in the dark. Maybe we really were hiding from a monster….a very scary one at that.

“You’re just the most visible fault line.” I watched the water ripple. “I didn’t ask to be that.” “No,” he agreed. “But history rarely asks permission.” Silence stretched between us, not uncomfortable. “You don’t act like someone seeking influence,” Rowan said eventually. “I’ve had too much of it used against me,” I replied. He nodded slowly. “Then you understand why others fear it.” I turned to look at him. “Fear doesn’t justify control.” “No,” he said quietly. “But it explains it.”

She paused, letting that sink in, then added, “Perhaps more so. Hatred is direct—you know where it comes from, how it will strike. But fear… fear makes people unpredictable. Desperate. It makes them do things they wouldn’t otherwise consider, take risks they shouldn’t take, because they’re trying to eliminate the source of their terror before it can hurt them.” Her words hung in the air between us, pressing against me with the weight of truth, until I could hardly draw breath around them. Her words hung in the air between us, pressing against me with the weight of truth, until I could hardly draw breath around them.