Bedtime Stories Horror Novels & Stories

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.

It coiled my nerves and spine, weighing in the air like something tangible. I remembered Mom telling me stories when I was younger. Some were just simple bedtime stories to help me sleep, but others were scary ghost stories goaded on by Leo. Wanting to be brave like my older brother, I begged for them too. She was a silver-tongued narrator. Whether it was Goldilocks and the Three Bears or an old Italian ghost story, Mom painted pictures so vividly it was as if she’d experienced them firsthand. And I knew what she was about to tell me was a firsthand experience, and she was going to weave an image that would likely keep me up at night wondering if Mattia was going to appear standing over my b

“Yeah, I know. Monsters in the shadows, creepy noises that’ll scramble your brains. Honestly? I’m good. Let’s just sleep and move on tomorrow.” I snorted because I couldn’t help it. That’s not even where I was going with all this. But, I’ve heard the spooky bedtime tales too. Did I ever lose sleep over it? Not so much. “Maybe it’s just a bunch of old stories. Maybe not. Either way, I’m not in the mood to find out if it’s real tonight. Let’s just stay put.” Laurel nodded so hard I thought her head might fall off. She looked spooked.

In 1983 a Mrs Carson of New York was laid out in our coffin, presumed dead of hear disease. As mourners watched, she suddenly sat up, alive as you or I. Unfortunately her daughter dropped dead of fright on the spot. I don't own any of this stories. I found them in some creepy books. I'm thinking of writing my own scary stories, but not anytime soon. You can send me your short stories for a feature if you feel like it. Thanks for reading. Enjoy!I don't own any of this stories. I found them in some creepy books. I'm thinking of writing my own scary stories, but not anytime soon.

“Sa piling kasi ng mahal nila, doon nila nahahanap ang kanilang sarili.” “Ah…” “Blue…” “Hmm…” “May tanong pa ako sa’yo.” “Inatake na naman ang curiosity mo. Ako naman ang magtatanong sa’yo. Kung isasapeikula ang buhay natin, ano kaya ang magiging genre?” “Hmm… Romance?” “Mali.” “Eh ano?” “Horror. Ikaw ba naman may kasamang sleepwalker na tumatawa na parang mangkukulam gabi-gabi.”

1, edited by Joe Mynhardt Fear the Reaper, edited by Joe Mynhardt For the Night is Dark, edited by Ross Warren Short story collections: Dead Reckoning and Other Stories by Dino Parenti Things You Need by Kevin Lucia Frozen Shadows and Other Chilling Stories by Gene O’Neill Varying Distances by Darren Speegle The Ghost Club: Newly Found Tales of Victorian Terror by William Meikle Ugly Little Things: Collected Horrors by Todd Keisling Whispered Echoes by Paul F. Olson

he murmured, writing it like it was a mission objective. She watched him. Focused. Serious. Intent. Like a determined father trying to memorize a world he had missed. “And he likes stories before sleeping,” she added softly. Reid paused at that. “What kind?” “Adventures. Brave heroes. Silly monsters. Anything where someone protects someone else.” He nodded slowly and wrote: Bedtime stories – protective theme. The room felt different now. Not heavy. Not tense. But quiet. “You already had lists for me too?” she asked after a moment.

I hope I do not end up screaming so loudly that my baby decides to make an early entrance into the world. I have always preferred romance novels over any other genre. There is something comforting about them, even if they do not always reflect reality. Horror, on the other hand, fills me with dread. It gives me a wild imagination, and I often end up with nightmares after reading or watching anything scary. I remember the times in school when my roommates would roll their eyes at me during horror movies because I could not stop screaming. Eventually, they would kick me out of the room, and I would miss the rest of the movie. The memory makes me giggle, though it is tinged with a hint of nosta

] The little girl's appearance instantly sent the livestream chat into chaos. Meanwhile, my own conclusion scared me even more. I slowly raised a shaking finger at them. "Y-You... You two..." [Haha, she finally realized this is a horror game!] [I wanna see her completely lose it!] "Incest is disgusting! She's just a kid!" I couldn't believe this monster would go after his own daughter! Furious, I stepped over and pulled the little girl into my arms. "Sweetie, don't be scared. I'm here. Nobody's gonna bully you."

And on moonlit nights, when the wind carried whispers through the trees, the children would huddle close to their parents, grateful for the lessons learned from the chilling tale. And so, dear children, remember the story of 'The Whispering Shadows' when the moon is high and the wind carries secrets on its breath. For even the naughtiest of children may find themselves facing the eerie dance of shadows in the depths of the forest, a fate they can only escape by heeding the warnings of those who came before.