Best Haunted House Novels 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

She doubted a zombie would be able to locate her there, even an advanced zombie. One of the things about zombies that stayed with them, no matter how much of their thinking and motor skills returned was the fact that they had poor night vision, depth perception, and were color blind. Those factors went in her favor since the opening to the root cellar was beneath a very realistic looking shrub that was attached to the trap door. Its coloring varied from those it was amongst only by the slightest degree and, unless you ran your hand over it, you’d never guess it wasn’t real. Combine that to the fact that it was nighttime, and she felt safe in her selection of hiding places.

She folded her arms against her chest. “It’s only dressed as a haunted house at Halloween,” Christian clarified. “Oh, good,” Meagan sighed. “But it’s one of the most haunted places in the world,” Christian continued, a devious twinkle in his eyes that made me shiver a little bit, and I wasn’t even there. “Oh, crap,” Meagan said, returning to her former disposition. “You hunt Vampires for a living, Meag,” Aurora reminded her. “How can you possibly be scared of ghosts?”

It was a journal - but whose? "Open it," The Shadow urged. "You'll find all the answers you seek within its pages." Celess hesitated for a moment before flipping open the book. What she saw inside made her blood run cold. It was her father's journal. Celess's heart raced as she flipped through the pages of her father's journal. Memories flooded back to her as she read about her father's struggles with being a vampire, his innermost thoughts and feelings about their kind and their place in the world.

I asked. A slow smile curved Drake’s lips as his gaze swept over to me. “If memory serves from our tour the other day, Hannah, Nightcrest is in possession of a rather famous haunted attraction, isn’t it? What was it called again? The Emily House?” My brows hiked upward as realization dawned on me; the Emily House was an attraction in Nightcrest seated at the top of a tall hill; an old mansion that was said to have been haunted by a spirit named Emily. Supposedly, a family had stayed there in the 80s and were terrorized by Emily until they ultimately just upped and left in the night, leaving all of their belongings behind.

"Reading novels seems better!" A profound silence reigned in the downstairs room where Miranda stayed, broken only by the rhythmic cadence of her breathing as she sat on the wide bed, propped up against soft pillows, a famous horror novel open in her hands. The words danced before her eyes under the warm glow of the golden bedside lamp, drawing her deeper and deeper into their dark worlds, until it seemed as if she were slipping into her haunted depths.

I marched straight to the house where the Swans were staying and pounded on the door. They opened the door, annoyance written all over their faces. "Spit it out!" "Where's my handbook?" I questioned. "What does that have to do with us?" Afro and the others lived just next door, and they watched us with interest. It wasn't hard to guess that they had already joined forces. They wanted to see whether losing the handbook would be the trigger that would cause any monsters to appear and devour me. That way, they could figure out how to complete the final objective of defeating the final boss.

“Yeah…maybe lay off, Louise. You know Sarah. Fickle moods, and she’s even more fickle about what she talks about. And he’s not her type anyway. She’s into that guy who works in the shoe shop.” Louise, as it seemed, was her name, shrugged. “Dunno why. Having an interesting family would be awesome. But,” she looked over her shoulder at me, her eyes alight with an unpleasant gleam. “Having a haunted house would be even better. Best watch out; not many people last there. The owners before you were lucky; they jumped before they were pushed, so to speak.” “Haunted? Right.” I folded my arms. “Look, I might be unsure about things, but that’s one step too far.”

Just hearing it made the trees outside the window blur like home was hiding behind them. “Give me the rundown again,” William said, eyes still on the road. Alexandra reached for the wrinkled sheet of paper on the dash. “So, about a month ago, this group of teenagers decided to go poking around this supposedly haunted house on the edge of town—” William cut her off. “Haunted by what?” “Allegedly,” she said, “by a spirit who hates women. Legend says it targets girls—hangs them in the rafters.” “Oh,” I said dryly. “Awesome.”

“Were these any help, detective?” “I’m afraid not,” I said, defeated. I was in a bit of a daze after staring at projected newsprint on the dim screen. I leaned on the desk and looked around the building absentmindedly until my eyes finally settled on a small sign hanging on a table covered with a neat stack of books. “Warning: The Library is Not Responsible for Nightmares!” I read out loud, walking over to look at the books. Well-worn volumes with pink skulls grinning back at me from stickers on their spines. Dracula. Frankenstein. The Invisible Man.