Best Adult Horror Books Novels & Stories

Those books were older than any of the others in his office. The bottom shelf (the one he’d been searching when he’d first heard the cats playing in the hall) held his collection of horror anthologies. The famed Whispers series, edited by Stuart David Schiff, featuring the varied works of Ramsey Campbell, Stephen King, Charles Grant and so many others. The Mammoth Book of Best New Horror from England. The Shivers series, published by Cemetery Dance. Masques, Borderlands, Shadows, Stalkers, Dark Forces, October Dreams I & II, Corpse Blossoms, Horror Library Volumes 1-5, and Prime Evil. Classic horror anthologies jammed next to paperback collections of slightly lesser repute with titles to mat

The books here were faintly covered in dust. As he reached out to the top shelf, his eyes fell on a familiar thick black book lying on the floor. The Art Of The Body. Before he could stop himself, his eyes flicked up and locked with Scarlett. She didn't look away, but a deep blush gradually spread across her cheeks. That book brought back memories, and for a moment, he forgot the unspoken tension between them. He looked away finally and pulled out several dusty books from the shelf. Two were about old werewolves, one about vampires, and the last one was about witches.

Eyes the color of wet stone. He looked at me the way people look at something they have already decided to keep. “Elena Voss,” he said. “Come in.” The room smelled faintly of cedar. Two armchairs facing each other across a low table. A single lamp throwing warm light. Behind him, a wall of books with titles I recognized from my father’s study. Experimental hypnosis. Dissociative states. The ethics of suggestion. I sat. He sat. The silence stretched until my pulse felt loud.

Curiously I opened the book; the first page I saw, it had handwritten writing which looked very old and the pages were almost yellowish, it said “The sun will turn into darkness, and the moon into blood, before the great and dreadful day of the Lord’s arrival. He will come and claim what is his and the children of the night will bow down to it". I turned the page to read more but the book started to disappear from my hand. My vision went black and I posted back into my room with a pang of pain in my head I placed my hand on my head and my eyes opened wide. What does that mean? I thought. I opened the notes from my phone and type exactly what I read in the book. Children of night what does th

Cassandra muttered, "or worse...poisonous." There were some signs that people had wandered into the cellar before, but they wouldn't come as far as the deepest, darkest part of it. A few might have, but it was so dark and scary and damp that even the bravest of heart would turn right back. Besides the mansion was also rumored to be haunted. No doubt that the secret storeroom seemed to be the last place that remained the same. Their sense of triumph was tempered with awe at the sheer quantity of bottles that shone in the rays of the full moon through the windows.

Officers, security guards, press agents – the entire crowd parted ways. Humans are too easy to control, he thought. The slightest bit of mindbending, and they scurry out of the way like sheep. A vampire of the Blacktide Coven, Kyle had seen it all in his 3,000 plus years. He had been there when they killed Christ. He had witnessed the French Revolution. He had watched smallpox spread across Europe—and had even helped it spread. There was nothing left that could surprise them. But this night surprised him. And he did not like to be surprised.

These numbers were written on the drawn-out full moon on the bottle right of the book’s front page, and, being set beside each other in the formal order, the full moon glowed. What were the odds I’d find such books at a children’s store? The rude young lady at the store was right about one thing. These weren’t children’s storybooks; they appeared best suited for adults from the first chapter on. The only thing that made it seem like a child’s book were the sizes and drawings on them. Then it hit me. Everything wasn’t as it seemed. The older woman had gotten me these books from the inner room, only for the salesgirl to deny the books and the existence of the old woman at the store.

It made sense to him that Adrian had lost his mind and had murdered these innocent families, those children. “Okay look at these. I found them in my father’s house after his funeral,” Adrian said and handed Robert three old books, bound in leather. Robert opened the first book and began to read. It held accounts of wolf sightings, transformation ceremonies, councils, people with powers, how to kill a wolf and much more. There were detailed drawings and Robert could tell by the faded ink that the books were old indeed. Adrian knew the truth.

“No, you didn’t. I remember, and I appreciate that. But… you must know that with the lights on, even this small lamp, you’ll be able to see how hideous I truly am.” She’s shaking her head as if she can’t believe it, so I feel compelled to describe myself. “Have you ever read those children’s books, meant to horrify young people not to go into the woods at night, that talk about werewolves?” “Yes.” She sits up straight in her chair, leaning in.

Whatever it was, I didn't care but of course, I knew there was something more. I opened the book flipped through the old pages and dread settled thick within my heart. This wasn't just some quack book you could buy on A****n or any local book store. This was the real deal and I could feel the presence of evil as I bent over to examine the pages. There was a section on human sacrifices and spells. There were so many different sections about occult practices that were unspeakable and gruesome.