Classic Halloween Books Novels & Stories

Tension hung thick in the air as they were led on a tail chase. “We received a report from our Matlock county branch. The supernatural killings have increased considerably in the past weeks and the humans are afraid to step out of their home at nights,” Neil’s voice was thick with concern. “The reports reveal it was the work of a vampire, a very strong one at that. There were multiple cuts in the body of his victims and a bite wound. The blood was not only drained from the victims, but this one has a habit of painting the walls with the blood of his victims. I don’t want that leech coming this way to my city and I want him stopped at any cost,” he concluded.

It has been too long since I opened the door. The drowsiness started to drift and soon I was able to think straight. I have been collecting valuables and various books since childhood. Since every battle. Some of them were relics, I gathered from the fallen alphas who once stood in my path. Others carries much more values as they carry the wisdom of millennia and some powerful spells I stole from Hecate before breaking our paths. I opened the lower most drawer knowing there were only two books, one with titled ‘The book of curses and potions’ and another I was looking for, ‘The book of Dead’. I didn’t open it and put it in my bag before walking out my study.

Seeing titles like 'Minerals and Gemstones' and 'Animals of the Sahara', I knew I was in the science section. I had to search three more sections: languages, music, and mathematics, before I finally found the section that housed the books on the supernatural. At first, all the books I see are about werewolves. Walking further down the row, the topics change from werewolves to vampires to witches. At the very end of the row, in a small section, nearly invisible unless you are looking for it, stand the books about lycans. I decide to start with trying to find what ingredients may have been used in the sedative Clay gave me.

She walked to the whiteboard, picked up a marker, and wrote in large capital letters, the word IMMORTALITY. "I understand that next week you will be moving away from Shakespeare and jumping into Gothic horror literature ... just in time for Halloween." General interest spiked. Halloween was a favorite holiday for most students. Me? My life was already a nightmare. Who needed costumes when real monsters were already roaming our town? "By any chance, has anyone read The Picture of Dorian Gray by Oscar Wilde?" asked Mrs. Jackson. Students looked around at each other, but no one raised their hand. "How about Bram Stoker's Dracula?"

In dedication to Born By Power is a series of poem fixed within chapters of the book. The first was relating to Chaos And Apocalypse, which pretty much revealed a lot about the uprise of hell. This is the second and is themed on the horrific nature of Halloween and written with relativeness to hell. What does this hold to unviel? Who knows. Screams of Halloween Halloween, Halloween, Soft screams of blood chime, The period of dark, The day of ghouls, demons and imps,

The books were a revelation. Jasmine traced the leather scrollwork on a book’s blood red cover, admiring the craftsmanship. The gilt edges of the pages and the gold title winked in her reading light. The Haunt were a people who took pride in their literature and wrote even their histories with passion. No bloodless recitals of bare facts here. She scooted down against her raised pillows, seeking a more comfortable position. It was after midnight, but her mind was too seduced by the glory of Haunt history to give in to slumber. The first book she’d read had barely mentioned charmers, but this one seemed more promising.

Uncle Roderick had always been very distracted. I reached for a picture of him and his brother with my mother. Both he and Papa had the same red hair that I had. My mother, on the other hand, always stood out from the family with her blond mane. I carefully ran my fingers over the photo. In the picture, the three looked so happy. At that time, none of them had known what horror would lurk in the future. Who would have expected to be killed by a couple of mutant dogs on their daughter's birthday?

Too fucking bizarre to even contemplate, to even have been real. Still, it was funny, how the thin giant’s head didn’t seem nearly as large and monstrous tonight as it had when they were younger. There were other Halloween decorations on display along Brazier Drive, amid these sleeping Houses of the Holy. Richard noticed some window-cling mummies, and a bedsheet ghost in the trees. An autumn-harvest scarecrow with a pair of dullish orange pumpkins (whose fleshy insides must be turning to stringy, seeded mush with the warm September days) sat on the porch stoop next door.

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Henry had developed a habit of reading novels, particularly fantasy stories. He was currently reading "The Great Heroes Adventures." As he turned the page, he felt a chill run up his spine. He hurriedly returned to the previous page and waited for the sensation to pass. It didn't take long at all. "I'm sorry," he mumbled. The ghost who haunted this shop wasn't always as quick to read as he was.