Cosmic Horror Authors Novels & Stories

The books in the library were arranged in chronological order not by first letters but by the names of the author. I had already passed through shelves that contained books written by: Agroe Goldvick, Bohman AshSilver, Crowen FangHue and so forth, but I found nothing useful. All these authors were prominent writers of werewolf folklore and history. “How could they not have any idea on the Death's Eclipse?” I asked myself. I decided to check the 19th shelf, for books by Sable Stormbringer. Although Sable newly came into the scene as a writer around three years ago. He has written more on Draven than any other author has, which makes one wonder why Sable Stormbringer has chosen to remain an an

After resting for a while, they walked around and saw a bookstore which they both agreed to enter. She was reading the back of Sense and Sensibility by Jane Austen when Jacob asked her. “What do you say let’s read horror books? Like the ones we watched today?” “Eh? I’m scared. You go read first, then give me a summary, then I’ll decide. Haha!” “Roger!” as he picked The Dunwich Horror and Others by H.P. Lovecraft and IT by Stephen King. They finished book shopping, it was around three in the afternoon when Jacob invited her to go somewhere else.

Something… not from this world. He was not breaking into a fortress. He was about to knock on the door of a cosmic horror's forgotten prison. The game hadn't just changed. They had been playing on the wrong board, in the wrong universe, entirely.

The Unraveler’s whisper turns sharp, furious, a snake’s hiss. "You SEE? They make you a jailer of horrors! They show you only the cost, never the NECESSITY!" Lies. Beautiful, poisonous lies. But the stain… oh gods, the stain remains. The cosmic horror isn’t just witnessed; it’s ingrained. The universe looks different now. Frayed. Thin. Like cheap cloth held over an infinite, hungry mouth. I see the potential for unmaking in the flicker of a candle flame, in the spaces between atoms. The Child’s truth was a brand.

“What are you waiting for? Do you need a bedtime story?” I chew back a smile. Settle against the headrest. “Why? Do you have any?” “Me?” “No— Weres. Us, I guess.” “Sure, but they’re bleak. Humans and Vampyres coming for us if we nip our teachers too hard. The gods of nature toying with their beastly children. Cosmic horror— that kind of shit.” “Wow. Do children like them?” “I didn’t. Had nightmares about them for years.” I nod slowly. “That explains it.”

The twists of danger became palpable as she navigated through rifts and folds that seemed to defy the very essence of reality. Lucian, the political strategist, delved into the interdimensional intelligence network, seeking to uncover the source of the cosmic disturbance. His investigations led him to shadowy figures within the joint empire who whispered of a clandestine faction known as the "Eclipse Sowers." These enigmatic beings, shrouded in cosmic secrecy, were rumored to possess the ability to manipulate the twists of cosmic energies for their own nefarious ends. The suspense escalated as the joint empire grappled with the realization that they were not alone in the cosmic sea. The Ecli

The atmosphere of the world immediately changes the moment Cthulhu's soulless husk appears outside of the coast. The air felt heavier and the evil thought hidden within everyone's mind no matter how small was beginning to swell and from the thought, it quickly transformed into action. Everyone at the coastline suddenly screamed and laughed in madness and began killing each other. Everyone who saw The figure of Cthulhu's soulless husk began to descend into madness no matter who they were. Lovers killing each other, parents killing their children no matter whether they are old or young, healthy or sickly. They began to kill each other with the nearest weapon they could find.

Published by Audio Arcadia in 2016 were DarkFire at the Edge of Time, Farnsworth’s collection of visionary science fiction stories, Nightworld, A Novel of Virtual Reality, and two collections of stories, The Black Arts and Black Secrets. Jorge Arenas Born in 1986, I come from Rio Piedras Puerto Rico. Due to my family's military nature I traveled the United States a great deal and that's where I found my passion, urban legends. Studying these brought me to another subject, horror. As I threw myself into the genre I found worlds that mirrored our own and experiences that I could feel in my soul. The books, movies and video games became my go to since I was young, and they continue to entertain

Ever the shy animal, the rat runs away with its spoils. Penti sighs as he rethinks his life decisions. What am I doing here? While his 6th sense told him about the things that go bump in the night, none of the entities that he felt really endangered him so he didn’t mention it to his pals. And what would he tell them anyway? That he can sense ghosts? Nobody would believe him and he’d be ostracized as the weirdo who can see ghosts. Despite that, his sharp senses told him to run away and go home. He’s never felt this specific feeling. Sure, he’s felt cold and his skin hair stood up due to fear but he’s never felt the need to run away.

As soon as she closed her eyes, the dream continued like it was waiting for her to come back to the subconscious world. Amara shuddered with fear as if she was the part of the dream to see the vampire again. The moment his feet landed on the soil of Hamster, the birds making merry in the air of the blue sky made a preternatural chirrup flying away. The dogs howled as if a huge calamity is going to befall. The ether which appeared bright with rays of sun suddenly turned dark with loud thunders. Within a few seconds there was an outpour of rain as if the heaven was also moarning for the origin of disaster in the city.