Cemetery Horror Novels & Stories

"It felt like fingers." Zane moved closer, his body tense and alert. "Ghost fingers?" "I don't know! Maybe?" "Or maybe you're just freaking yourself out," he replied with a gentle tone. "This place is creepy so I get it." I wasn't just imagining things but I had no proof so I kept quiet. He might be right after all. The ancient werewolf cemetery was exactly as horrifying as Alerion had promised, maybe worse. And I was absolutely, completely, one hundred percent convinced that something was watching us.

The town feels unnaturally quiet despite the early hour, the curfew and growing fear keeping people locked in their homes. Occasional flashes of strange light pulse in the fog—blues and purples that move in patterns too deliberate to be natural, too fluid to be mechanical. Twice we pause to avoid patrol cars, the sheriff's department working overtime to maintain a semblance of normalcy in a town slipping toward chaos. We reach the cemetery just before 9 PM, the fog now so thick that headstones loom out of the whiteness like ships at sea. The Blackwood crypt appears untouched, its iron gate still secured with the ancient lock that responds to Cain's key.

“It wasn’t just the spook. Off in the woods where I went for safety there were things. Things old and awakened. Things waiting for the end of the world and becoming impatient. They got senioritis, because it’s soon to happen.” Jon remembered. He remembered the sensations of doom emanating from the cemetery visions. There was no arguing it away. “What kind of things?” he asked. “Things with ragged shapes, like half-torn shadows puffed up with poisonous gas and sickly yellow spots of light puncturing through. That’s all I could see. There was more to them, I could feel it, but my eyes couldn’t take it in.” His head shook compulsively as he spoke. As if he were fighting some primeval instinct t

Not many could find him, but Cecilia had always been persistent; she had walked through countless cemeteries, looking for the one in the black hood, and the scythe strapped to his back. This certain cemetery was in the outskirts of her town; headstones littered as far as the eye could see, and the center of it was different from the rest. A small building had been destroyed for unknown purposes, revealing hidden tunnels. No one had traveled through, especially once the gnarled roots of dead trees began to grow over the entrance. But Cecilia was no quitter; she brought a sharpened hatchet and made her way down, traveling by light of an oil lamp she had found. It was strange; the object had be

"They're the best guardian angels!" On the way back to the top floor, I suddenly remembered something. "Aethelan, do you remember that cemetery I told you about?" He nodded. "You said you visited an old cemetery." "There were four unmarked graves there," I said softly. "I left white roses for them." Lily, Cassia, and Gideon all stopped walking. "Those graves..." I looked at them. "They were yours, weren't they?" The four of them were silent for a long time.

I know I will nearly solve the case. “Ahhh!!!” I heard the father scream and lose his mind and then the wind suddenly blew hard which kills the candlelight. My room is so dark and I can still feel them watching me. They were surrounding me and it made me freeze. I can still hear them. I know I need to be strong even though my fear is already eating me. I can hear the laugh, the scream, the whisper, the weep that makes me so scared and I can’t take it anymore. That is why I grabbed the lighter beside me and I immediately lit the candle and opened my eyes and looked around. They are suddenly gone. They are not here anymore and the atmosphere of my room went normal. I wiped my sweat that contin

The zombie grunted and made a concerted effort to move the soil from the grave in greater quantities, all while sending me little glares from his empty eye sockets—it had less impact without actual eyeballs. “Endora.” I screeched. I may be the most evil of witches in the entire country, but it’s still a dark and quiet cemetery on Halloween. Swinging around on my heeled boots, I scowled at the ground-keeper sneaking up on me like an ancient ghost. The gnarled old man in his late seventies was one of the few humans to be aware of our existence, only because most of my work was done in the very place he managed and he’d seen more than his fair share of hands breaching fresh graves.

With a choir, singing in her living room! “Beth,”Emma said ever so sweetly,“honey,are you totally sure you weren't having a dream?You must realize how this sounds!All this talk of caskets and corn children giving you ominous warnings….did you watch a horror movie before bed?You know how those upset you.” Beth composed herself as best she could.”No, I didn't watch a horror movie Em.I came downstairs thinking I’d left the telly on and there in my living room was a casket with me in it!And a choir of children.”

Mary had left her, and Scarlett was her last hold on the world, and by going cold turkey, she was protecting her. Because no one who followed her would end well. "Ma'am, this area is a cemetery, there's no surveillance, and I didn't know until the grave sweepers told me this morning, so I don't think I'll be able to find her." Cemeteries are solemn places, who would install surveillance here, it's disrespectful to the dead. "Well, it's just these people left and right, come on, go back." Ida thought this one would be devastated, I didn't realize she was so calm.