Babysitting Horror Stories Novels & Stories

It was late autumn when they arrived — the trees skeletal, the air thick with a kind of oppressive stillness that seemed to hum beneath the surface of the world. Emily Carter, a graduate student in folklore and urban legends, had heard the whispers about WildWood all her life. She had grown up just a few towns over and had spent years gathering the old stories: tales of the “vanishing patients,” the “howling trees,” and the “night doctors” said to stalk the forest paths. Determined to separate fact from myth, Emily organized an expedition for her thesis, enlisting a few brave companions:

Entering the bedroom, she found Assunta standing in a hastily drawn on a robe with Ariana in her arms, the little body stretching and writhing, her screams enough to turn blood to ice. “What happened?” Hailee was near the baby in seconds, her arms reaching for Ariana, folding her close, her voice murmuring those soft, soothing sounds mothers instinctively murmured, while the little girl's screams changed to aching sobs. “Bad man came, mummy,” the baby girl sobbed. “Bad man came to take me away!” White-faced, Hailee glanced questioningly at an equally white-faced Assunta who was shaking her head. “A nightmare…” she whispered. “She has them occasionally.”

For me, it's enough for me to leave my baby once and I won't do it again until I'm sure they're adults. Today I was surprised again when the babysitter at my house also screamed. She said she saw Ferdinand change into a wolf while he was sleeping. Indeed, that rarely happens. Maybe it was because Ferdinand was too tired and thinking about too many things, so he was like that. I was also even more shocked when the babysitter said that her hometown was destroyed and destroyed when a group from the Blue Moon Pack forcibly took their place and mowed down the people there. I feel that they are very sadistic. And only my babysitter is left because she pretended to be dead. Even though she was very

A subdued silence enveloped the fireplace after Shango’s story, interrupted only by the occasional chirping of the night crickets. “That does not count as a bedtime story,’’ Babybaby finally found her voice. “It is child,’’ the thunder god answered. “No it’s not’’ Babybaby insisted quite stubbornly. “bedtime stories are supposed to be a nice tales with happy ending, all bedtime fairytales are, like the ones Amaka used to read to me, this one is a stupid story.’’

I don't know what would I react. After we had our dinner, I decided to check Royal's room. While taking up the stairs, I feel like I'm in a horror movie. I try to remain my sanity even though my heart is pounding and my feet are wobbling. Every step I make is like a deep hole. I have to be careful 'cause I might fall. "There's no ghost inside my room, Alpha. Stop quiverring." I heard Royal's voice from behind. I blindly whirled around and immediately caught his playful eyes. "And no scandalous stuffs." He added and let out a breathy smile.

When I come out, in my sleeping clothes, I see the hotel sheets on the balcony, being stepped on by pillows and others hanging by shoelaces. Confused, I approach this one and when I open the door, the three of them scream in fright to the point of putting down the small flashlight that Aitana had in her hands. "You scared us to death" complains Aitana and the children look agitated. "What are you guys supposed to be doing?" I ask confused. "Being in China, we were doing this with nice stories, but, today the kids decided it was time to turn the page and get us into scary stories" says Aitana and I fold my arms.

I left the sealed research institute to attend my daughter's graduation, only to stumble upon a scene that froze my blood—my husband's nanny humiliating my daughter in front of everyone. She sneered and declared, "Austin Grant rules over Bexley City." I smiled. "Well, I think that's about to change." … What I couldn't understand was how, during all the years I'd been gone, Austin could let something like this happen. How could he allow a mere nanny to bully my precious daughter?

Hours later, we were still talking. Well, mostly she talked, and I stuffed very tiny honey biscuits into my face like a starved cavewoman. (No sass here. Just crumbs. So many crumbs.) Barbie—thirteen thousand freakin’ years old—sat on a branch like some ancient history professor in sequins and gave me the crash course of my nightmares. She told me about the ASA—Anti-Supernatural Agency. Humans with labs, syringes, and no chill. People who kidnapped supernaturals, drained their blood, and experimented to get powers, immortality, or whatever else their fragile egos demanded.

She was last seen hitching along Bassler Road, toward the interstate. Will I read a story about her next? Or maybe a twisted tale about how my next door neighbor—a gentle, seventy year-old retired nurse named Maude—is really a dedicated Satan-worshiper who dines on the flesh of cooked babies and also likes to have orgies with the town librarian and the Ladies Auxiliary. The idea is insane. Ludicrous. Far-fetched. So why can’t I get it out of my head? “This story,” I say, rubbing my eyes with the heel of my palm, “this is when things started getting weird.”

In fact, I'm still their shipper. I followed my head swaying. When it was Bella's turn to sit in the warm-up chair. "Never have I ever slept with someone on the first date." I immediately covered my mouth with that question. I've had that unlucky thing, sleeping with a stranger whose his name I can't even remember. "Uhm... Never!" The cheers were starting to get louder, they couldn't believe it, but Bella was reassuring. "But, I lied. Let's have some fun!" Bella screamed and pulled out the glass of cocktails. It's getting hotter, colder, and the nights are getting late.