Analog Horror Ideas Novels & Stories

You guys are the best! Another thing... I am thinking of changing the title and the cover of my story so it will look more of horror-romace than pure horror. What do you think? What do you think can boost my views? Your contributions are appreciated.

With a choir, singing in her living room! “Beth,”Emma said ever so sweetly,“honey,are you totally sure you weren't having a dream?You must realize how this sounds!All this talk of caskets and corn children giving you ominous warnings….did you watch a horror movie before bed?You know how those upset you.” Beth composed herself as best she could.”No, I didn't watch a horror movie Em.I came downstairs thinking I’d left the telly on and there in my living room was a casket with me in it!And a choir of children.”

No more wails to be had— The feminine form touches herself and shudders deliciously upon her sculpted throne of mortar and bones. She knows the girl can see other worlds; observing them even as they observe back. Knows the immense threat the girl poses. She stretches and stands, urinates down bare legs. Dripping in exhilaration, this creature’s wildish floor-length hair lifts and swirls about her as she begins her scheming. Holding intercourse with the dead. She calls on something then, calls it forth from some ink-black place into birth, and listens with leering smile as it shrieks out miserably at its own hopeless fate in the darkness of the ruin’s attic above.

“It wasn’t just the spook. Off in the woods where I went for safety there were things. Things old and awakened. Things waiting for the end of the world and becoming impatient. They got senioritis, because it’s soon to happen.” Jon remembered. He remembered the sensations of doom emanating from the cemetery visions. There was no arguing it away. “What kind of things?” he asked. “Things with ragged shapes, like half-torn shadows puffed up with poisonous gas and sickly yellow spots of light puncturing through. That’s all I could see. There was more to them, I could feel it, but my eyes couldn’t take it in.” His head shook compulsively as he spoke. As if he were fighting some primeval instinct t

It infuriated Cassy more—with the night that’s the homecoming of the ghosts and horrors. A wicked laugh itched to be out, instead, she scrutinized the height. The distance between her and the ground did not harrow her. It amazed her at how different she’s lurking around where the normal people might not even stare without a wave of nausea washing over them. An urge to smoke-filled her; she fetched a pack from the inside pocket of her dark blue jacket; ignited the flame, mumbling, “Every legendary story is a pent-up frustration of human beings to invoke fear in the minds of those whom they hate. Several against one or one against many.”

--- In the system lobby. The broadcast screen lit up with a new announcement. [S-Rank Dungeon “Mental Asylum” is now permanently sealed.] On the forums, players were already snickering. [Knew it.] [What is wrong with this girl? Every dungeon she clears gets locked afterward.] [She’s basically Conan in an infinite-world novel. Every horror dungeon’s worst nightmare.] [I still don’t get why that anomaly said “sorry” to her at the end.] [Forget sorry—how did he even know about Rose Manor?!]