Bedtime Stories Supernatural Novels & Stories

“They say dusk is the witching hour—a supernatural time when demons and spirits hidden in the dark emerge. Some take human form, others possess people and walk among us. They might suddenly call your name, and if you answer… your soul gets devoured.” His deep, mellow voice, rich like liqueur-filled chocolate, drifted with the evening breeze, wrapping the tale in a mysterious, magical charm. Candice paused for three seconds, then gasped dramatically, “How scary~~~” “No need to be afraid, just a legend. I thought it was interesting, so I told it.” “It is interesting. But—does it only work if they call your name? What if, say, a kid calls out ‘Mom’? If the mom answers, does that count?”

Sensing my unease, he reached out and gently placed a weathered hand upon mine, offering reassurance. "Please, do not let the tales unnerve you, my dear. They are but figments of the past, remnants of a bygone era. Yet, there are those who still believe, who fear the night and its mysteries. For them, the mere mention of the vampire myth awakens primal fears." A mixture of curiosity and apprehension filled the air, and I found myself yearning for more. "Have you ever encountered anything supernatural, sir? Anything that has made you question the boundaries of reality?"

Suzan’s POV "After an exciting night of trick-or-treating with my brother's best friends—Jack, Beth, and Simon—I was ready to head home. As I rummaged through my bag for a piece of candy, hoping to savor the last moments of the night, Simon’s voice cut through the cool air like a blade, sending a chill down my spine." “Hey, what do you say we visit the witch’s cabin?” he asked, flashing that mischievous grin I hated. “I heard she’s more active on Halloween. If you knock three times on her front door and one of her windows shatters, that means she’s home. Wouldn’t that make tonight way more interesting?” My blood ran cold at the mention of the cabin. I was only eleven, and the rumors about th

I wish I could somehow make him better. "When I was a little girl, every night at bedtime you used to tell me stories about supernatural beings, the witches, ware wolves, Lycans and other mystical creatures. Do you remember that?" I asked with a smile. "Ahh, I do remember that. You did not want stories of princes and princesses living happily ever after. Instead, you wanted me to make up stories about badass mythical creatures defeating enemies and ruling their kingdoms justly," he said, chuckling.

Patty is truly a saint. After my shift, I go to gather Maddie up. She moved upstairs to Patty’s apartment hours ago and fell asleep on the couch while reading a supernatural thriller. I don’t know how she reads those books and not have nightmares, but she doesn’t. She loves the stories of all the crazy fictional creatures, ghosts, vampires, witches, fairies and even werewolves.

Bad things happen on her birthdays and they were usually the dreams she had a night before, coming to reality. They were usually slight occurrences that didn't involve death but they were still bad. The worst thing about these nightmares was that it seemed there was nothing that could stop them from happening. They were bound to happen and Juana called it her curse. But her dad and granny thought it was fun or magic. Even if it was evil. "It'll let us know what to do and what not to do" Granny said but the evil still happened anyway no matter how careful they were in trying to prevent it.

I want to whisper his name and pull him out of whatever dark place his mind has wandered into. But the blanket is there. Everyone knows, monsters can't touch you when you are under the blanket. I have tried before. On the twelfth night, I extended my hand. My fingers hovered an inch above the duvet. The air there was cold—colder than the room, colder than the grave. Something whispered to me from beneath the bed. Not yet, it said. Wait. He will come to you. I pulled back. The boy stirred but did not wake.

Why the vampire felt the need to gorge himself in a substance that neither affects nor sustains him, Rose didn't know. "Father Benedict didn't say---I mean, why...why so early? What made him change his mind?" Hunter continued to ramble, scratching at his bald head. He gasped, "Oh, God. Don't tell me...the world is ending, isn't it?" Taking a deep breath, Rose scoffed at the vampire, "What gave that away? The meteors that will hit this place in an hour?" "No, I mean. This time, it's really ending, right? Like...whoosh...one big end."

Later that evening. It was already late at night but Mariya still couldn't sleep. Her previous conversation with the Mother Supervisor keeps on replaying on her mind. "This is a once in a lifetime chance for you to find your father again..." the old nun told her earlier. Mariya carefully got up from her bed. Since she's having a hard time sleeping, she decided to take an evening walk to breathe in some fresh air and to clear her head... After a few minutes, Mariya is now at the orphanage's playground, and she's currently sitting on a swing while admiring the round, bright moon...

My composure was quite unreal and alarming. "For the last time, Mary, I don't know what you're talking about," I said firmly. She stood from the bed and approached the table in the far corner. She did silently, which started to creep me out. "I was told stories about creatures of the night by my mum when I was little," she began." Creatures with impossible abilities which lusted for blood."