Novel & Cerita Best Haunted House Books

Uncle Roderick had always been very distracted. I reached for a picture of him and his brother with my mother. Both he and Papa had the same red hair that I had. My mother, on the other hand, always stood out from the family with her blond mane. I carefully ran my fingers over the photo. In the picture, the three looked so happy. At that time, none of them had known what horror would lurk in the future. Who would have expected to be killed by a couple of mutant dogs on their daughter's birthday?

I pointed back to Beth’s door while staring at Henry “what kind of cat shifter are you if you haven’t noticed the phantom that has been lurking around inside her bedroom?” “Phantom?” I whispered to myself, he’s right, I didn’t even notice, let alone think that there was one stalking around, that must explain why Beth would wake up in the middle of the night screaming with terror. It was feeding on her. Phantoms were known as little shadows that fed on misery and Beth had a lot of it. “you’re a poor excuse of a Protector, some big brother you are” Logan scuffed “It’s sad when I’m the only one that had noticed it”

“Well, at least tell me if I have one part right.” “You have always been so stubborn,” Raquel smirks. Putting his pointer finger into the air, he offers me hope. “Fine. I will give you only one fact.” “Yay!” I clap eagerly. Raquel covers his mouth. Almost as if he is attempting to hide a smile. “I said one, Katrina. Now, go on before I change my mind.” My mind filled with unique books I read, remembering that I read about different creatures from vampires to werewolves and demons to Fae. Then one, in particular, hits me. I can see it as clear as day.

Georgia - The silence in the cellar wasn’t real. It was alive—a cunning, creeping thing that licked at the walls like a living thing, testing for weakness. It wanted me to believe I was alone. That nothing existed beyond these damp stone walls and the single, rusted lock keeping me in this rectangular purgatory. But silence, like most everything else in this house, was a liar. If you were patient—if you sat in the darkness long enough, let your breathing slow to almost nothing, let your heartbeat settle into the rhythm of the dying—you would hear them.

He was lying face down, and face up, all at once. I live in that house now. I am the village "fixer." And every night, I listen to the scratching beneath the floorboards. I don't fear the ones that crawl. I fear the ones that wait. Because now I know that the most terrifying thing in the world isn't death—it’s a corpse that refuses to close its eyes.

I hoped the walls were soundproof, as I didn’t want to overhear any funny business between Silas and his girlfriend. Climbing onto my bed, I reached for my bedside drawer, pulling out a large book with thick pages and a brown cover. It was a book on vampire origins, and basically everything one needed to know about them. Bill had gifted it to my mom as a moving-in present, thinking she might need it living with two vampires under the same roof. If only he knew Mom didn’t read books. Even when I was a kid, she’d make up my bedtime stories on the spot. She found it funny to tell me horror stories before bed.

My wolf replied. I shook off the "what-ifs" that held me back and turned back to the towering oak shelves. My fingers traced the spines of leather-bound books, all of them layered in dust that made my nose itch. "Focus," I muttered to myself. "One monster at a time." I immediately admonished myself. I continued to look until I found the books my dad had recommended. I pulled the four heavy volumes from the shelves. The History of Shadow Entities, The Blood Rites of the Unseen, The Search for Shadows and one volume of Pack Lore and Ancient Threats. I carried them to a secluded corner of the library. The dust felt suffocating, but I wouldn't let anything stop me.

Nice porch with a rocking chair and a hammock on it. But just inside I noticed her. Kamari. Her hair was tucked back behind an ear. Feet propped up on the arm of the couch whilst she aimlessly leafed through a book. The title was a dark choice but one I had read before. The Haunting of Hill House. A twisted book that made you catch your breath at every turn. Behind her was the kitchen. Her father was standing there, kneading from what I could see. Nolan had only mentioned her address once. When he thought she would come here or to the cafe. I never realized I knew it by heart.

she gives me a warm smile and just shakes her head before she nods and turns back to placing the books on the shelves. I quickly come across a book on bonds, but it takes me ages to find one about demons. I search through every book and shelf until, finally, at the very top, I spot a small, extremely dusty book. Although it doesn’t explicitly say “demons,” its title, “Monsters of Our World,” is the closest I can find.

I left it charging, so they could use it for as long as they wanted, and if what ghost hunters said was true, they could also draw energy from the battery at the same time. Back to the kitchen, I put to cook, wondering what I could watch over dinner. YouTube kept suggesting me a compilation of the best paranormal evidence captured by the infamous Haunters. No matter how many times I tapped the option to not show it anymore, it kept popping up. So after checking there was nothing interesting to watch anywhere else, I decided I could always have a good laugh and sat to have dinner and watch the rockstars scream like little girls. The moment Brandon Price started his weird off-camera narration,