Bedtime Stories Horror Novels & Stories

Then, in a stage whisper: “I bet you won’t touch the haunted chair.” “What haunted chair?” came Max’s terrified voice. “The one in the corner,” Eddie answered dramatically. There was no haunted chair. It was a perfectly innocent armchair. But this is how sleepovers go from cute to creepy in record time. “Go to sleep,” I warned. “Sorry, Mom,” Eddie called. 9:45 p.m. Claire left, after swearing I owed her a margarita for the trauma she’d witnessed. 10:30 p.m. I heard hushed voices.

She finally blinked, turning away from me to grab the broom from the corner of the kitchen without making eye contact. “It's a myth,” she muttered, her back still turned. “A myth,” I repeated, not buying it for a second. “An old one.” She swept the broken glass into a neat pile, her movements tight and forced. “The elders used to tell it to the pups to keep them from wandering out into the woods at night. A scary name, a scary story. That's all it is.” “So I just happened to have a horrific nightmare about a bedtime story I've never even heard before?”

“What else have you heard?” Too much. Too much poison dressed up as bedtime stories. Garrett Monroe—my father, the only family I had left—used to slur those horror tales into my ears whenever he was drunk. Stories about sharp-toothed beasts who dragged children from their beds and devoured them whole. Creatures who wore human skin by day but hunted by moonlight. At the time, I thought he was warning me. Trying to protect me in his own twisted, broken way. But now? Now I don’t know.

After I was done peeling the apple, I munched on it and began chatting with her, seemingly nonchalantly, like I was just talking about the weather, while telling her everything that had happened in my past life. Lacey's eyes were first filled with terror, then confusion, then shock. When I was done with my story, Lacey said with much difficulty, "Impossible… You couldn't have had a past life… That's all bullshit! "I'd never have killed you… I'd never… You shouldn't believe it… You're making a stupid mistake!" I threw the apple core into the trash can and wiped my hands clean. "Don't be stupid. Why would I ever kill you? Your boyfriend will do the job instead.

The couch could be adjusted into a bed, but I didn’t bother, knowing we weren’t planning to sleep there. “Okay, Poppy. But what kind of movie? Drama? Comedy? Horror?” She furrowed her brow in thought. “What’s horror?” “Scary,” I explained. A mischievous grin spread across her face. “Let’s go with that one.” I glanced at her. "Are you sure? It’s already late. You might not be able to sleep later if you watch a horror movie." "I'm fine. I'm used to being alone at night."

As Richard kept talking, Haley’s expression grew stranger and stranger. A sharp, eerie intensity crept into her gaze, her features unreadable. “Sis?” Richard finally noticed her reaction. “What’s wrong?” Haley’s eyes were dark as ink, impossible to read. Her voice was low and emotionless. “You sure like telling gruesome stories at night. Not afraid you’ll have nightmares?” “Nightmares?” Richard scratched his head, confused. Why would a story like this give him nightmares? Their family had lived on the edge of darkness for years. Wasn’t this just everyday stuff?

Suddenly, the sea wind picked up, the trees throughout the village creaking and groaning in the darkness. Bird calls filled the night air, along with the sound of what seemed to be countless birds flapping their wings all at once. The players didn't even sleep a wink as they gathered, discussing what was going on. "We were correct! Those human bones were left behind by players who'd lost their handbooks and got eaten by birds!" "For the rest of our time here, all we need to do is help the villagers out, earn enough coin, and clear the levels by dealing with those birds!"

Once setting the firewood in place, making the dark room glowed through the orange flame and prepared enough heat to keep the small cabin warm all through the night, she sat by his only son, making herself and her rounded belly comfortable in the soft bed. "My son, it is time to go to sleep. Now, what stories do you wish me to tell you? I have many already prepared for you. Is it about a king? Or how vampires or the werewolves come to exist? Or a princess who falls into a deep slip after being prick by a cursed needle? Which one would you like to hear, my love?" The young boy looked like he was thinking rather hard and his eyebrow scrunched, figuring what stories would be good. After a few m

She did lie quite well because the boy never doubted for a second that there was no gramps on board. - Well, and what are they doing? - Bia was just waiting for this question. So, when he did it, she tightened her red bow on her head and said with a smile that she went from ear to ear: - Dad is at the cemetery and Mom went to buy more sweets, Grandpa is taking care of the boy that Grandma is going to cook. I have to behave myself, or the witch will come and get me too, do you want a candy? - You might see this as a very creepy story, but you must consider that there was news in the port. About a witch that attracts children with sweets to cook for them and then bury her bones in the cemete

I don't even have his number! "Hello? Who's there?" I whispered. It was like a horror movie. The girl in the forest screaming and running for her dear life. Maybe it is Jordan. He is a douchebag but can he pull such a stunt just to scare me? One thing I learned from the horror movies I watch is never to scream and run so I backed away and tried to be in the shade because the moon was up and bright. I don't want to be spotted or watched by who may or may not be my predator.