Bedtime Scary Stories Novels & Stories

As Skylar squatted down in bed, laughing at their tiredness, Andrew and Anna also sat up, resting on their pillows. She said, "Bedtime story, bedtime story. You love to listen to bedtime stories. Do you not?" For a moment, they both nodded their heads. I was standing by the doorstep, close to the point of unconsciousness. I was noticing Skylar guessing that I was still with them; I was quickly becoming lost in their gaze. It was a pleasure to have these adorable, intelligent kids around. I blushed as their lips moved gently, ready to question their mother, but Skylar asked them to remain quiet until she finished telling the bedtime story, sealing their lips with her fingers.

And the loudest warning of them all was; "Do not trust any friendly stranger with pretty eyes." It had been these way for decades, centuries even. Every single child in the town grew up hearing these stories. Unlike other cities where their bedtime stories centers on royal fantasies, and fairies, the bedtime stories they listened to was filled with horror. It was the stories of wolves with glowing eyes, and the shadowy figures that lured you into the trees, only for your screams to echo back hollow, and unanswered. Though the stories had believable theories, not everyone readily believed them. Some called them folklores wrapped in superstition. Some believed they were old stories, made up to

"I'm scared." The whispers called to me again, nudging me forward to the stairs leading to the attic. I hardly ever came up here and it felt almost unfamiliar to do so. Uncle Al told me a lot of ghoul stories to keep me away while my father always debunked them when I asked to spend the night in his bedroom. The fond childhood memories gradually inked into a nightmare. A nightmare?

The gentle light of the blue moon softly illuminated the room, creating a tranquil atmosphere. Stacy turned to the boys and said gently, “Now, lie down and close your eyes. Tomorrow will be a busy day; after all, we need to prepare the Halloween costumes, right?” The boys, despite their typical childhood energy, agreed and settled into their pillows. Stacy began telling a soothing story to help them relax, and soon the room was filled with dreams and promises of future adventures. The gentle glow of the blue moon continued to illuminate the space, accompanying the triplets as they fell asleep, embraced by the warmth of home and the care of their beloved babysitter, Stacy.

I wasn’t used to searching bedtime stories and didn’t really have an idea of what kids would like, so I chose the first story that came up on the internet, not really focusing on what it was about, but in the end, it did turn out to be an interesting story about friendship, as explained by two cute bunnies. "Did you enjoy the story?" I asked when I saw how drowsy Hayley looked. "I did…" Hayley said with sleepy eyes. I smiled, glad that reading her a bedtime story had been successful. I brushed her hair gently, making sure she was comfortable and warm. As her eyes started to droop, I turned off the light and whispered a goodnight prayer. "You'll sleep peacefully and with no fear. No monsters

No, I have a choice and I should turn back right now and go back to sleep. I sat down beside him. The warmth from his body made it seem as though we were in the afternoon. I suddenly became calm. He's the father of my kids, there's no reason to hide from him. "Having a bad night?" He asked "Yeah me too. Ella kept telling me to tell her story. So I told her a very scary one and she didn't even flinch, makes me wonder if this was the type of stories you tell them." I chuckled. "My kids are not afraid of scary stories or movies, they are only scared when they see it real. In a nutshell, they have trust issues."

The sounds of the night—crickets chirping, owls hooting, and leaves rustling—seemed to harmonize with his words, creating an eerie ambiance that sent tingles down my spine. One by one, the pack members took turns sharing their ghost stories. Each tale was filled with chilling twists and turns, evoking gasps and laughter from the listeners. As the stories got scarier, I noticed a few of the younger pack members huddling closer to their parents, seeking comfort and reassurance.

The evil ones. The kind of bedtime stories mothers whispered to keep their children from wandering past the watchtowers after nightfall. Stories I'd dismissed as folklore meant to frighten the young and gullible, nothing more than superstition wrapped in shadow. Yet here one stood, in my bedroom, as real as the floorboards beneath my feet.

When her mother was lulling her to sleep that night, she read the expression on her face and interpreted it right-Fear "What are you scared of?" She asked softly "What I'll see on the night before my birthday" she answered with a small voice. "Don't worry, it won't be bad this time, I'll pray for you" and then her mother prayed until she fell asleep.

The night was cold, and I feared they would catch a cold, but they began to cry out loud on the road. People began to stare, so I had gotten them the ice cream. When they got home, I prepared for them a nice warm shower, and dressed them, making them ready for bed. “I'm craving a bedtime story, Mommy.” Nadia said, as I tucked them in. “I'll tell you one tomorrow. I'm exhausted, okay? What do you think about two bedtime stories tomorrow?” I asked, as a bribe. “Oh yeah! I want Rapunzel and Sleeping Beauty.”