Best Horror Audiobook Novels & Stories

Suddenly, an explosion vibrated the ground and when I looked up, a black smoke emitted in the air toward the hamlet. “Randolph!” A gasp escaped my lips. Grabbing my dress, I darted back to the forest and ran. My feet flew over dead leaves and stones as I scouted for the hamlet, the branches of the trees whipped my face and tugged at my dress. My heart thumped behind my chest as I zigzagged through the sparsely darkened forest. Suddenly, I arrived at the hamlet and the scene before me almost crippled me. Before me were terrifying monsters from my nightmares; lycans; as my father would call them; they pounced and ripped apart the bodies of my father’s men who have also shifted into their wolve

Diego, Xavier, and Fiona cried together, their voices a raw symphony of terror and heartbreak. "No, Lyra. No, Henry. No one but I rules," I declared, my voice dripping with cold finality. But I was gone. Only darkness remained—thick, consuming, and alive with a sinister promise, a chilling maw whispering of endless torment, a hollow void pregnant with unseen horrors. The shadows seemed to pulse, as if breathing—watching—waiting. The air thickened with a cold, primal dread, as if the world itself recoiled from the encroaching abyss. And within it, something terrible stirred, unseen but felt—a promise of suffering yet to come.

Halloween always brought out the weirdos, but I didn’t expect to be one of them, out here alone in the middle of nowhere, the air thick with the scent of damp earth and decay. My boots crunched on the gravel path, the barn looming ahead, its weathered wood silhouetted against the crimson sky. The rumors called it haunted, a place where people vanished on Halloween night, but I figured it was just small-town nonsense. Still, my heart pounded, a mix of adrenaline and unease. The wind rustled the corn, whispering like it was alive, and I swore I heard something—a low growl, deep and primal, cutting through the night. I froze, camera dangling, my breath visible in the chilly air. The growl came

Each one radiated a hunger so ancient it made my magic recoil, slamming against the chains that bound me like a trapped storm. Nytherion wasn’t a myth. It was a wound. And I had torn it open. The first horror stepped fully into the world, its head twisting unnaturally, a maw opening across its chest instead of its face. The sound it made was laughter—but not the human kind. The laughter of something that had watched universes die and thought it was beautiful. Kael moved. Gods save us all, Kael moved like war incarnate.

But this wasn’t some ordinary alarm. The siren I’d installed was powerful enough to pierce through the entire district. Maybe not the whole city, but every zombie within this area could definitely hear it. Even standing atop the walls without binoculars, I could already see thousands upon thousands of zombies surging toward us like a tidal wave in the distance. As the horde drew closer, the people outside finally panicked. They pounded desperately against the gate, begging me to let them in, but I remained completely unmoved.

“Exactly, some groups have experienced more hardship than others. This happened in their backyards, literally, for many of them. When they stopped the events from happening. Gods, I wasn’t there but had it described to me. How do I describe this? Fine, it was like a horror movie. Some of them recognized body parts and saw what happened to their victims.” “How many victims as you call it were there?” “There’s no way to tell. For us, it might take years to find out and we’ll never have an accurate number. As for your people? We do not know and don’t have the evidence to find out. I saw the faces of the people that came back and I don’t think any of them were emotionally or mentally unaffected

But please just hear me out. ‘I won’t. Why must I listen to you? Do you want to narrate the gruesome details of your evil deeds? I refuse to listen to any more of your lies. And I’m not staying with you tonight. Just let me take my things.’ Anna sounded more frightened of me than angry. She was going on like I was some psychopathic retard with killer instinct.

After resting for a while, they walked around and saw a bookstore which they both agreed to enter. She was reading the back of Sense and Sensibility by Jane Austen when Jacob asked her. “What do you say let’s read horror books? Like the ones we watched today?” “Eh? I’m scared. You go read first, then give me a summary, then I’ll decide. Haha!” “Roger!” as he picked The Dunwich Horror and Others by H.P. Lovecraft and IT by Stephen King. They finished book shopping, it was around three in the afternoon when Jacob invited her to go somewhere else.

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.

Doing my best to keep my ears on the door and fully focused on Samuel's conversation, I simply could not take it anymore. I was shaking out of fear and anger, my heart pounding as each of his words ignited horror in me. His voice slithered into me like delaying poison, and the vein of awareness started giving off numbered cues of dread and horror.