Anthony Horowitz Horror Books Novels & Stories

Anthony walked straight along the deserted literature department corridor. His steps were so calm and full of confidence. The smell of old books and dust filled his senses as he turned right towards the storage room. He pressed his palm against the rough surface of the door. His eyes moved to the right, feeling the presence of someone around him. At the count of three, Anthony turned quickly and ambushed his stalker before dragging her into a dusty old storage room. “You should take my words more seriously, Jane.”

"What's this?" "Go ahead, open it." Rosie carefully started unwrapping the gift to reveal a book. "I Go Quiet," she glanced up at Anthony, a gentle smile tugging on her lips. "I haven't heard of this one." Anthony shrugged nonchalantly, his heart pattering with anxiety. He was terrified to see her reaction, scared she would hate it. "I'm not much of a bookworm so it might just be the worst thing you've ever read. My grandmother helped pick it out."

Hansel and Gretel, except in this one, the witch didn’t perish in the oven. Instead, she turned the children into crows and fed them to her wolves. I flipped to the end, my heartbeat pounding. Every single tale was warped. Twisted. Happy endings devoured by shadows. I stared at the shelf, horror blooming inside me. Dozens of books, all telling the same message: Good will always lose. “Xareth,” I whispered aloud. That monster. That evening, I took my dinner plate and found Zevarion near the garden. I shared my food with him and told him what I’d discovered. His laughter came like a breeze in spring, light, sweet, and momentarily soothing.

The thought was so distasteful that he’d refused to truly consider it. A knock sounded on his door. When Anthony opened the door, there was no one there, except for a small package on his doorstep. Frowning, he picked up the package. There was no return address on it. Was someone trying to kill him with Anthrax? It was such an amusingly morbid thought that he chuckled under his breath. He opened the package, only to discover it was far from poison: it was a book. He began to flip through it, astonishment filling him.

"They have, ever since she was born." Cassandra set the little serpent among the piles of gold coins. The creature sagged in defeat and exhaustion after lying before that terrible fire. "There it is," Vasilisa's voice came from behind a mountain of walnut-sized raw rubies. It wasn't hard to find the book. It was placed on a golden stand in between two golden Sirin statues. The grimoire turned out to be the largest book Cassandra had ever seen, with pages made of parchment illuminated with tracery, and it was open to a page thickly covered with elegant, intricate writing.

I go to the library where I see Abner Brooks. “Ahh, young Morgan, I’m not surprised to see you here.” He gives me a genuine smile. “I came to look for books on word alchemy, I’m not sure what or if they have any here.” “They do,” He bobs his head in thought, “Not a whole ton but Bear Clans are very spiritual and keep many records of Witch Alchemy.” He leads me to a section in the back and shows me a bookshelf of old and dusty books that look like they haven’t been touched in centuries. If at all. “Knock yourself out, let me know if I can be of any help.”

But was it the happy ever after for the royal kingdom and people of Hamster? The dead body of Otaku was found by some Aghoris who passed by the way. They were experts in practice of black magic and sorcery. With their evil powers they brought Otaku alive. For the wickedness he nurtured in his body and blood, Otaku became a master in Tantrism. He is now no more a human who has life principled to birth and death but a vampire, a sex hungry beast and a lust filled addict who had mastered on sorcery.

They sat like that for a while, shoulders touching, diary open between them. Raven reached for the black tome she’d left on the nightstand the night before. She had been studying the final sections late into the previous evening—the most dangerous rites, the ones that bound not just flesh but will, not just bodies but souls. Pages filled with warnings written in silver ink that seemed to pulse faintly when she stared too long. Victoria watched her turn the pages, expression thoughtful. After a moment she took the diary again and wrote: *We have a vast library here.*