Analog Horror Books Novels & Stories

The logical part of my brain, the part that liked neatly restored paintings and clean brushes and answers, was having a very bad month. The occult section was tucked in the farthest corner, behind a dusty pillar and next to a broken radiator that hissed like a snake. The books looked untouched, mostly oversized hardcovers with cracked spines and spooky fonts. I traced my fingers over them, unsure what I was looking for until something sharp pricked my index finger. I jerked back, hissing. One of the books had a tiny iron spike sticking from its spine, like it didn’t want to be opened. I stared at the title.

I had this unsettling feeling that they were going to attack, but where, when and who were uncertain. When I got home, I ran over to an old, Victorian cabinet that was passed down through the generations in my family. It was cherry oak and curved out in the middle; the Victorian designs were chipped but didn’t deny that it was a formidable antique. I walked up to it with my set of keys, found the right key and unlocked it. I took out my book of creatures and opened it. It was an old, leather bound book passed down from century to century, with my ancestors adding to it as new creatures revealed themselves. The faded letters in the middle of the cover said “Demonology” in Irish text. The page

I moved my flashlight to where I saw a row of old armor lined up against the wall, there were some rusty swords and shields that I couldn't help but think that these shields had been here way before the Lycan King had even been born, there must have been used for a battle a hundred years ago or even more. There was a large desk in the corner with an antique-looking lamp on top, the bulb seemed to be lit but not on, there were strange-looking books, some with leather covers, others paper, some old, some brand new with pages that fell open and wrinkled under my fingers. There were even some books with gold writing on the cover but none of them looked like they were readable, I picked up the ne

"I will kill all the members of your family if you do not offer yourself to me. I will bring you to the situation when you will intentionally come to me and plead to save your family members by offering yourself to me." Amara walked helpless towards the haunted mansion. She felt numb and lifeless for the happenings around her. The words of the sage begin to ring in her ears. "It will be the dark night without the moon, the onset of heavy storm and the shrill howls of dogs. There will be an unfathomable clamor present in the atmosphere, the unwelcoming cries of the eagles and the uproar of tumult yowls from everywhere around will be the indication to alert you it was the one and only day in y

“You surely will.’ He whispers as the familiar hue of lights awaits them both in the middle of the path they are taking. Knowing what it is as they are aware of what draws it in front of them. Daniela raise her hand as the lights came down and surrounds her. One by one and with a click of her hand, it turns into the books that make the entirety of these dark and dreadful charades. With that, she names the books one by one that open and presented their heart, but only the clear four can be heard at that moment as it rings. “Blood Resonance. The Call of Death. Death Reincarnate. Shinzo Dimension.” As the book opens along with its prominent hue that also represents the prominent sins that are t

Their explanation of tantra was truthful, if a little oversimplified. I squeeze my eyes shut and rub my temples. I need coffee, and by now the kids might have something for me, so I head back down to Chinatown, taking a detour into The Magickal Childe bookshop on West 33rd on the way. Of the stack of books I’ve spent my morning with at the library, the one title I’m fascinated by is the infamous Tibetan Book of the Dead, and now I wanta copy I can mark up. The shop is a cramped little hole in the wall that reeks of voodoo oils and herbs. Ceremonial swords and shelves of dusty glass jars cover the walls. A leather-bound copy of the Necronomicon takes pride of place in the display window and a

Octopus Head had cut off one of his own tentacles, handing it toward us with its other tentacles. "Apology. Eat." The still-writhing, bloodied tentacle made Anna and the others retch instantly. At that moment, the village chief took out a handbook bound in human skin, with the words Villager's Code of Conduct written in blood. He smiled, revealing a mouth full of sharp teeth. "Once you've eaten your fill, you can learn about the rules in our humble village."

The section where books on lore and the supernatural appeared the most disturbed. “Well, that confirms it. Someone, I presume Professor Digby, has gone through all the books on anything that refers to the supernatural. Ghost, fairies, and witchcraft. None of the books appear marked by use as far as I can see and there're no spaces where there might be a book missing. Before you ask, no, there’s no grimoire, and nothing wrapped in human skin as far as I can tell.”

They were monsters, created to plant nightmares in people's heads and this sight would cause Maddox again one or two sleepless nights, because before someone had put a bullet in this Iuba, he had ripped the blond woman's throat out . Maddox gritted his teeth and jumped over them outside into the garden and into a bloody hell. There were screams, wails, and sounds of pain. The Iubas growl and bite filled the air. There were so many that at first glance he couldn't see them all, but what he saw were the two little, red-haired girls on the hedge in front of the fence. And also the big Iuba, who jumped straight at her.

he says grimly, “curses are caused by a terribly evil form of black magic. Their history is fraught with death and gore. I’m not so positive that Lycan Atwood would be pleased with such horrors filling your young mind.” I push my chair back and stand without entirely meaning to. “Please,” I say quietly. “It’s really important to me.” Robert sighs, passing his thin hand over his face before nodding wearily and crossing the room to a locked cabinet with rows of books behind thick glass. He pulls a key out of his pocket and unlocks the cabinet, pulling out one of the books and walking back over to me. He hands it to me, and I read the cover as he walks back to the chalkboard.