Best Horror Novel Novels & Stories

"I will kill all the members of your family if you do not offer yourself to me. I will bring you to the situation when you will intentionally come to me and plead to save your family members by offering yourself to me." Amara walked helpless towards the haunted mansion. She felt numb and lifeless for the happenings around her. The words of the sage begin to ring in her ears. "It will be the dark night without the moon, the onset of heavy storm and the shrill howls of dogs. There will be an unfathomable clamor present in the atmosphere, the unwelcoming cries of the eagles and the uproar of tumult yowls from everywhere around will be the indication to alert you it was the one and only day in y

I steeled myself and opened the door. The hallway was awash in red. Smears and spatters of bright and dark blood covered the walls, the floor, and my door. My head reeled. What the hell happened? Why was there so much blood outside my door? Hadn't the guy in 603 seen it through his peephole? I couldn't help looking toward apartment 603. To my surprise, the door stood half-open, and it was dead quiet inside. I picked my way past the bloodstains and made my way to apartment 603.

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.

“Maybe killing too quickly got boring. He probably wants to try a new game this time. These players might end up dying worse than the others.” “The boss has such an insane presence. You can tell he’s ridiculously handsome even through the mask!” “Stop simping already. That’s a literal psychopath! He’s the cruelest and most ruthless boss in the entire game!” … Once we hid inside one of the guest rooms, everyone finally let out a breath of relief. The skinny guy looked guilty. “I’m sorry. I couldn’t hold it in back there and almost got you all killed.” I patted his shoulder to comfort him. “Horror games are a survival hell. It’s not your fault. But from now on, we need to focus on finding clue

As he made his way across the room, he glanced at the bookshelves he passed but saw no books here that were turned upside down. Upstairs, he placed the book on an entry table in the hallway then paused, ears alert for any sounds like he’d heard this morning. Despite his love of horror, or perhaps because of it, Brad had never been easily unnerved. Scary movies, haunted trails and spook houses, most had little effect on him, and as for real life, he reserved his fear for things like disease, natural disasters, catastrophic accidents. It took more than an empty house to give him the creeps. Usually.

After two days of high temperatures and intense boredom, he remembered the three books. Sam pulled out the one with the Mummy on the cover, because it looked the most innocuous. It was entitled the Ninth Pan Book of Horror Stories. He wasn’t the least bit prepared for what he found inside. The first three stories involved emasculation, murder and burning at the stake. In his fevered state Sam felt he was not only watching the characters’ suffering, he was experiencing it along with them. He flung the book at the wall and then hid it again, wishing he could burn it like Jinnot, the young girl in the third story who was burned alive.

The campsite suddenly filled with a repugnant smell, like rotting flesh. Nathan leaped forward just as the creatures burst from the shadows. They were tall and bulky, twice the height of Nathan, with dangling arms, wide hands, thin bony fingers, vicious claws, and protruded fangs shining with poison. It was like seeing a vampire experience death over and over again, unwilling to die. I stared in horror, a blood lust and anger evident in their faces. I lost my balance, collapsing in panic. Everything became a bur. Junto was flung aside by one of the beast's pale hands. Then it dove after the Shape Shifter with jaws the size of a bear trap.

I grinned. Rina snorted. “I’m a little annoyed by people trying to turn classic literature into horror shit.” Kimi and I looked at her in surprise. “So, you prefer pure horror?” I asked. Rina rolled her eyes. “Have you met your sister? She’s all about the jump scares and psychological thrillers.” I wrinkled my nose. “So is your brother. I’m not going to lie, Blood and Chocolate and Warm Bodies were a compromise. As was Shaun of the Dead.”

She opened it—pages parting easily now, as though the book recognized her exhaustion and offered no resistance. She flipped past the early chapters she had already memorized. Deeper. To the sections she had only skimmed before, too afraid to linger. *Control of the Undead* The script here was denser, colder. Diagrams of binding circles, sigils of domination, lists of names for the restless dead. Zombies—simple thralls of flesh, bound by will alone. Ghouls—carrion-eaters, drawn by hunger, controlled through offerings of meat and bone.

"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.