Best Horror Sci Fi Books Novels & Stories

I tightened my grip on the shelf, my sweat-slick fingers not making it easy to hold on. Behind where the Erelim were clutching onto the staircase, the air tore apart, opening up a dark void as tall as a London double-decker, that seemed to snap and chomp like a great, toothless mouth. The scrolls began to fly off the shelves, dislodging centuries-old dust and God knows what else that had made its home in the gloomy sanctity of the Vaults – although I noted many wriggling bodies with too many legs and too many eyes - and I watched as it was all sucked into the blackhole, everything starting to disappear into whatever dimension Ethan was sending it. With ear-splitting screams and howls of rage

Why the vampire felt the need to gorge himself in a substance that neither affects nor sustains him, Rose didn't know. "Father Benedict didn't say---I mean, why...why so early? What made him change his mind?" Hunter continued to ramble, scratching at his bald head. He gasped, "Oh, God. Don't tell me...the world is ending, isn't it?" Taking a deep breath, Rose scoffed at the vampire, "What gave that away? The meteors that will hit this place in an hour?" "No, I mean. This time, it's really ending, right? Like...whoosh...one big end."

It was an image of Scarlet’s face. Caitlin felt her stomach roll with anguish. How had her daughter’s face come to be on this ancient text in a lost vampire library? Once again, she thought of destiny. It was as though everything had already been decided. No, it was more than that. If felt as though everything that was happening now had already happened before, as if they were living in a constant loop with history swirling round and round, repeating ad infinitum. The life she was living was just one cycle, one in which the outcome had been predicted before, but was not set in stone. She could change the premonitions and prophecies. Whatever was supposed to happen, she still had control over

“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.

I wanted to read it at that moment but something was telling me otherwise. I badly wanted to read it but there was no way I could do that, it was just too complicated. Calming my nervous self I opened the book hoping he wouldn't see something that would scare the hell out of me. But who was I for the moon goddess that listened to my prayers? She had never listened to my prayers and I was sure of it. The first sentence I saw inside the book was no less horrifying than the first one. I would say it was on the same level and I was even more scared when I saw it.

"Don’t worry. We have many other bedrooms." "Then-" and once again he cut me off. "Because I don't trust that everyone in this house has fed. I won't risk it..." He said. And with that he turned and left. Leaving me in his room...alone. I had to admit that his room was very simple. The duvets were black and white. The carpet was dark blue and the curtains dark red. He had a large desk in the corner which was stacked with the most unexpected things. Reading books! Actual leisure READING books. They ranged from horror to sci-fi. Most of them were written by a famous hunter author named Vladimir Rodriguez. Those books were mainly the "fiction" ones. They were fiction to humans, but all too real

but before he could make any conclusions, the book was opened by itself, the dark pages kept on flipping none stop as if they were being blown by the wind, only that the room was completely closed with no openings for any wind. Both Sara and the priest were petrified. and in a second, she felt his grip loosen over her hair, followed by the rest of his body collapsing, Sara took a step away from him, not knowing what scared her most, the dark book, or the vicious priest who was lying motionless on the ground with his wide lifeless eyes completely white. he was dead, Sara thought. ripping her eyes off him, she looked at the book which pages were not flipping anymore, taking cautious steps towa

In 1983 a Mrs Carson of New York was laid out in our coffin, presumed dead of hear disease. As mourners watched, she suddenly sat up, alive as you or I. Unfortunately her daughter dropped dead of fright on the spot. I don't own any of this stories. I found them in some creepy books. I'm thinking of writing my own scary stories, but not anytime soon. You can send me your short stories for a feature if you feel like it. Thanks for reading. Enjoy!I don't own any of this stories. I found them in some creepy books. I'm thinking of writing my own scary stories, but not anytime soon.

His wrinkled face looked like it was crawling with countless wriggling worms. I shuddered and stepped back, whispering to Silvia, "Good thing I've got you. This place is terrifying." She snorted and suddenly shoved me forward, straight toward George. With an icy laugh, she said, "This pretty boy will make a great offering. You're going to love him." Before I could react, George gestured, and several eerie puppets stepped forward to pin me down and drain my blood. A sharp bell rang out, echoing through the night.

But still, my eyelids are absolutely reluctant to close. As I lay there staring blankly at the ceiling, I suddenly remembered Javier’s collection of horror books. That’s right. A while back, I’d idly picked up one of his scary stories. Since I’m actually a scaredy-cat, every time I read one of those horror stories, I’d immediately be scared out of my wits and end up falling asleep from emotional exhaustion.