Christmas Scary Stories Novels & Stories

“Would you like to know a Christmas secret? Would you be able to keep it?” Liam gave an enthusiastic nod as he leaned closer to Nicholas. “I can keep a secret! I promise!” “I’m actually Santa’s son. I came here from the North Pole last night. There was an emergency with one of Santa’s sleighs. It looks like it’ll be too foggy on Christmas Eve for Santa to be able to fly his sleigh through the night...” Nicholas brought a hand to his chin, as he ran his fingers through his faux beard. “Do you know anyone who might be able to help fly Santa’s sleigh? On such a foggy night?”

Nora concluded in a silk undertone. Impressed by her good storytelling skills, the kids applauded her as they glued their vote stickers on the voting pad. However, amongst the other kids, some people weren't impressed—Gina Adams and minions. "Oh, PUURLEES. . . This is the lamest scary story in the history of lame scary stories," Gina jeered loudly, her tone wielding the usual amount of obnoxity.

“Do you think it’s haunted?” My breath sticks in my chest at her words. Before I can say anything, Jack laughs. “Don’t be stupid. Of course it isn’t haunted.” “Some people think it is,” I counter. “There have always been stories about this place, about the swamp.” The woman pauses as an uneasy shadow flickers across her delicate features. “What kind of stories?” she presses. Jack once again cuts me off. “Who gives a shit?” he chuckles. “Ghosts, witches, werewolves–that’s all kid stuff. The only thing we should be afraid of is the IRS.”

A meaningful smile sprouted on his mouth as if he had succeeded in his plan, trapping the students in the net of his storytelling skill. "None." He snickered, "well, that's shocking. How come none of you knows about her? Well, everyone knows about her in the highlands of Scotland. Everyone's scared of the name, Baobhan." His voice grimed as he proceeded further. "Mothers are terrified of their crying child when they don't sleep at night. Sleep kid, Baobhan will come and take you away to her favorite spot amidst the darkest wood and will suck on your blood. They would say." The crowd gasped in collaboration, everyone seemed to be impressed by the story, and fully hooked, as their faces sugges

I said, feigning innocence. I glanced around after speaking. It was true. There wasn't a single living person in sight, but ghosts were everywhere. "This place is cursed!" Charlotte snapped. "I can't even stop. The moment I even think about it, it feels like needles are piercing my hands." Even as she spoke, her hands kept moving. Fear flickered across her face at the scene before her. The terror in her eyes was truly a rare sight to behold. "Is this your doing? Did you come up with all these tricks to scare me? You just want revenge for all the times I picked on you at school, don't you?"

I stood in the dimly lit hallway of the old Victorian mansion, the air thick with the scent of pine and cinnamon from the massive Christmas tree in the foyer. Snowflakes danced outside the frosted windows, but inside, my heart hammered like a drum. At 22, I'd spent months chasing rumors about the Veil Society, a secret brotherhood of influential men who pulled strings in the shadows of our city. They were legends, powerful, enigmatic, and utterly forbidden. And tonight, on Christmas Eve, I'd begged for an audience to prove I belonged.

He asked politely as he looked from me to Tasha for approval. “ Why not? The more, the merrier.” Tasha replied and Arnold stepped in to walk beside us, making me the middle man. “Alright so it's time for some midnight stories from dear Arnold, anything you have for us Arnold?” Tasha asked Arnold, who smiled. He was obviously pleased with her words. “Hm… I could share my experience killing the strange creatures that live here. Okay, what is your opinion of the scariest and strangest creature?” Arnold asked as he folded his arms.

She didn't want to hear anymore of the frightening story. "Don't tell me you're all scared. It's a myth, I made it up!" John smirked, his eyes gazing at the scared faces of his girlfriend and friends. "Ha ha ha, scared? I've never been scared of anything in my life!" Rocky roared in laughter as he rose from the ground. "Scary stories don't scare me. I'm gonna pee!" He uttered still grinning. "Don't wander far into the woods, you never know who you'll meet." John warned in a playful but spooky voice.

By now, we’ve all had more than a few drinks, and we’re halfway between tipsy and passed out. “Let’s tell scary stories,” Laura, one of my friends, suggests. “Are you sure that’s a good idea?” Kara asks. “These woods are spooky at night. I have to be able to sleep, you know.” “Maybe we should call one of those hunky forest rangers for you,” I suggest with a laugh. “He’d better bring a friend,” Laura says. “Or twelve,” Diana, another friend of mine, adds. We all laugh, and Laura starts in on the first story about night walkers, ghostly figures who march through the forest.

Or if the weather was on the colder side, we’d sit deep within the woods hurtled around a warm campfire, marshmallows burning and scary stories flowing allowed tears to well in my eyes. Back then some story of a monster hiding in a cabin ready to eat people was the most frightening thing I had heard, but I was unaware of the real nightmare I would be faced with, I didn’t have a monster in a cabin hunting me, but a real life monster who was sat around that once happy campfire.