Baca Novel Horor Novels & Stories

After resting for a while, they walked around and saw a bookstore which they both agreed to enter. She was reading the back of Sense and Sensibility by Jane Austen when Jacob asked her. “What do you say let’s read horror books? Like the ones we watched today?” “Eh? I’m scared. You go read first, then give me a summary, then I’ll decide. Haha!” “Roger!” as he picked The Dunwich Horror and Others by H.P. Lovecraft and IT by Stephen King. They finished book shopping, it was around three in the afternoon when Jacob invited her to go somewhere else.

muttered Sumico excitedly. Sumico went on taking a look at Hanny’s other romance novels one by one until she reached a book – not a novel, but it got the similar size with a novel. The title was tickling, somewhat queer, strange, and scary. Sumico turned the book back to read the synopsis for a while.

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.”

The air suddenly turned cold. It felt as if someone’s presence had increased in the room. Then— Tap… tap… tap… Footsteps came from the third floor. Slow… heavy… and terrifying. Anusha was reading a book at that time. At first, she thought— “Maybe the caretaker is upstairs.” But the caretaker’s footsteps were always slow and dragging. These were different. These sounded like the steps of a young man. But there was nobody living upstairs. The footsteps stopped. And then—

The view outside the window is nothing special—just the usual hustle and bustle of the city—but it is enough to distract me from the strange mix of emotions swirling inside me. I lean back, letting out a long breath as I try to calm my racing thoughts. The bouquet is still on my mind, but I force myself to focus on the stack of books I brought home. There are ten of them, neatly piled on the table, and for the first time in my life, I have decided to try reading a horror novel. The idea makes me laugh a little, though it is a nervous laugh. I hope I do not end up screaming so loudly that my baby decides to make an early entrance into the world.

After two days of high temperatures and intense boredom, he remembered the three books. Sam pulled out the one with the Mummy on the cover, because it looked the most innocuous. It was entitled the Ninth Pan Book of Horror Stories. He wasn’t the least bit prepared for what he found inside. The first three stories involved emasculation, murder and burning at the stake. In his fevered state Sam felt he was not only watching the characters’ suffering, he was experiencing it along with them. He flung the book at the wall and then hid it again, wishing he could burn it like Jinnot, the young girl in the third story who was burned alive.

See? This was such a beautifully yet tear-jerking novel I have ever successfully crafted an idea with, a few months ago. But after I have encountered all the horrible occurrences for the past months, I came back to work and turned this sad and romantic novel into a mystery and horror novel, which made all my work colleagues and supervisor absolutely petrified. They have no idea that I was even more shocked and horrified when I have suddenly realized that my novel had suddenly become so dark and twisted. It was beautifully written, like a psychopath has written a novel for the very first time.

I thought but shook the thought away, they are the same women, lying creatures. Knowing that sleep is nothing near to my sight. I climb down the bed, wire my flip flop, and walk towards my study. I picked one of the old novels that always attracted me but each time I walked past it. I stretch forth my hand and grab the book looking at the title I cringe. "Agerina the rejected Omega", the story picked my interest and I walked towards one of my seats as I sat down, suddenly curious as to what happened in the book. I shakily opened it not knowing why my hands suddenly turned shaky, and my palms sweat. Maybe because I feel weird Hours later I'm done with the story and I can't help but get worked

At least with the trusty young librarian. “How about something scary?” I look at the mom before handing her the book we had already discussed while the child had been in class. “Is it too scary?” The girl pulls her hands back and turns to her mother. “Is just a little bit.” I place the book on the counter and wait for her to make the decision. “Or there’s a not scary one I think you’d like.” I watch amused as her forehead creases, she’s thinking hard and the smile as she takes the copy of Sam Wu is Not Afraid of Ghosts.