Appalachian Mountain Scary Stories Novels & Stories

"Oh, not to her face of course, but I thought her so old and superstitious. I'd heard the stories of the mountains. We lived in Peru and some of the older people in our village still whispered about the great evil that came before the Incas and could not be driven away, not even by their most fierce warriors. Stories. Dreadful, frightening stories handed down for generations. I thought the stories had been passed down mostly to scare the children and keep them from roaming too far from the protection of the village, but I learned better after my mother died. Something is there, Emma, in the mountain. Something evil, and it's our job to contain it." Emma wanted to believe her friend was delir

'Ten Mini City Blue Hill is the closest to Moon Valley the land was once owned by the werewolves clan called Bloodline. Blue hill was once a beautiful land with green plants and animals but when the goblins took over the land. It became a wasteland Because of the goblin's toxic blood. The land is filled with hard rocks weird shaped. The air Is filled with poison gas dark cloud gloom over the land the smell of a dead decaying body also lingers in the air. Skelton's bone is stack on top of one another. The bones are from the creature that the goblins ate.

"Go to the cellar. Fetch the heavy salt and the iron nails. We are boarding the windows tonight." "Who was she, Grandpa?" I asked, my voice trembling. "She wasn't a 'who'," he replied, his eyes dark. "She was the Mountain's Hunger. When the snow seals the peaks, the old things that sleep in the caves get restless. They come down to trade. If you give them what they ask for, they pass you by. If you refuse..." He didn't finish the sentence. That night, the scratching began.

My father's eyes darted from him to the window, then to the sword leaning against the doorframe. “No,” he whispered. “It’s too soon.” he muttered to my mother who had clung me to herself. I could hear my heart racing, I knew what that sound was. I thought about the stories I’d heard as a child, of werewolves, of the cursed ones who lived in the mountains. Of humans who never survived the bite. All that whole time it had seemed to me as feeble but this time it felt real, too surreal. Another howl came this time louder and closer and then the screams, screams that made your blood run cold.

Although Kaiden's left shoulder was wrapped in thick bandages and his face was pale, he was gradually recovering. We were all alive and well. The relief of our survival made the once-arduous trek feel effortless. Even the thin mountain air seemed to smell of freedom. As night fell, we made camp on the leeward side of Moon Goddess Peak. The campfire crackled, sending sparks flying into the deep night sky. Clara, ever the troublemaker, suggested we tell ghost stories. "I heard this mountain used to be the hunting ground of the 'Heartless Phantoms,' who preyed on lone pups..."

Not tonight. The mountains were still miles away. I kept myself occupied as I thought of the stories the warriors used to tell around the fire to scare us when I was little. Of the treacherous cliffs and the shadows that moved within the caves. Some said the herbs that grew around there were the offspring of blood that had been spilled there long ago, of children that demanded sacrifice in return. I listened then with wide eyes, never picturing myself on that mountain. And yet, here I was, walking towards it.

Miranda asked. “On the Mystic Mountain,” Lazarus answered. “Nope. Oh, no, no no! I am not going to that place,” Valko hissed. “There must be another place we can go, maybe hell even?” For centuries, stories of that place have been told by the elders and nothing about those stories were of the fairytale variety. That place was even worse than the Bloodshed Woods. “Shut up, Valko,” Velma grunted. “Are you sure we can find one up there?” Velma asked Lazarus.

I looked around and noticed we were still in the forest but it looked different, thicker, more dense. "Where are we?" I asked, my voice barely audible, "your new home" she said with a smile that held sympathy. Home? Out here in the middles of the forest? How did we even get here? She must have noticed the confusion on my face because she chuckled and started walking towards a part of the forest that looked like it was edited right out of a horror movie, the Appalachian mountains to be exact. A chill raced down my spine, making my knees buckle beneath me. Lucky for me, the two strong gentlemen that had been holding me up were still acting as beams of support, thank goddess for them.

So that is how the monsters could pass into that opening despite not having any wings! “Did you see something, Miss Sapphire?” Sherman asked after he saw the frown on my face. Should I tell them that it’s dangerous to go up there? Every angle I see on the way to the top of the mountain is infested with monsters and wyverns. Before we can get to the top, we have to endure and fight those one by one! I wonder if Xeno and the others have already known about this and are just worried to tell Sherman and the other four.

Chapter 033 The Blood Tree The forest didn’t look the same at night. It pressed in on you, all shadows and whispers, the cold seeping into your bones until you couldn’t tell if the shiver was fear or the air itself. I’d been here before the ridge line that curved toward the deeper heart of the Appalachian wild but never this far. My mother had once warned me: Some places werewolves avoid for a reason. Tonight, I was going to walk into one.