Camp Horror Stories Novels & Stories

Jessica's voice went dead serious. "This manor has thirty floors. The monsters on the lower floors? They're simple. Predictable. They work on pure instinct. Learn their patterns, and you can survive. Treat them like traps. But the higher you go... the ones at the top are a different breed entirely. They won't just kill you. They'll shatter your sanity in seconds. They'll show you what true terror really is." "She's right," Brad chimed in, his smile turning predatory.

Tired of him judging my interests, I walked towards him and snatched the book away. "Why are you here?" I put the book back in its rightful place. "I will have to keep an even closer eye on you tonight because of that shapeshifter you saw earlier." "So it was a shapeshifter." "Yes, it was. You better get your powers soon if you don't want to get attacked even more. They all know you have possession of the book, they're just waiting for the right moment to take it. They're observing you and they won't stop until you find your powers." What he said gave me the chills. Just knowing that those ugly creatures were observing my every move was unsettling. It's kinda similar to what Damon was doing

Epilogue: Now that I have written several of these stories, I find that my old ghosts have started to haunt my dreams yet again. It is amazing that once things are written down, they begin to take on a life of their own. Just remember, if you don’t want things to go bump in the night, don’t tell anyone else about them.

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.

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.

"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

The only light now came from the thin gap under the door—faint hallway glow that slowly dimmed as Lily turned off the lights upstairs. Hours passed. Or maybe minutes. Time dissolved in the black. I sat on the cold floor, back against the unyielding door, whispering her name like a prayer. My mind raced through every horror movie I’d ever seen, but none prepared me for this: the monster didn’t look like a beast. It looked like me. It sounded like me. And my daughter had believed it. I thought about the “C9” boxes—Christmas decorations, year 2009 or something trivial. Now the label felt like a mocking code. C9. The Monster In The Basement.

I darted my eyes away quickly-- "You promised," Al said all of a sudden. "What?" I paused in surprise. "No question asked," Al smirked, holding out his hand to me. I was grateful that he didn't ask into it. Night fell. So the thing about horror stories is that-- The fear kicks in only at dark nights when you are alone, not when you are at the crowded theater or on the bright street. Meaning-- I couldn't fall asleep that night. Turns out it's a bit hard to fall asleep when you don't close your eyes because you feel the need to stare at everything with alert.

“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

Sookie Stackhouse is a mind-reading waitress who falls in love with Bill Compton, a vampire who was turned after the Civil War. 14-15. A Touch Of Dead BY CHARLAINE HARRIS A Touch of Dead contains the complete Stackhouse short stories; a short-story volume, Many Bloody Returns, also has a Stackhouse story. 16-18. The Hunger, The Last Vampire, Lilith's Dream BY WHITLEY STRIEBER