Creepy Book Covers Novels & Stories

Dusty and dark, the size of a coffin, edges bound in metal bands etched with tiny words too small to read. It rose until it sat fully above the sea of paper, long and heavy and unmistakably coffin‑shaped. Except where a coffin would have a lid, this had a cover. Like a book. A book so big it could only have been made to bury someone in. The “cover” creaked, splitting along its spine. The top half lifted a few inches, then a few more pages and paper sliding off it in small avalanches until, with a reluctant crack, it fell open.

Each book seemed to hold a promise of escape, a chance to step into a different world. One book in particular caught my eye, its cover was adorned with a silver crescent moon, a hint of the mysteries it held. It was a tale of werewolves, a subject that had always fascinated me. As I settled into the plush armchair, the leather cool against my skin, I let the words wash over me, carrying me into a realm of transformation and hidden truths.

"Well, it's... It's hard to explain, the book explains it all." "Is it interesting?" She asked looking at the book cover, it was of a young teenager holding a lamp in what looked to be a dark cave, a bat was hanging of his hands and an old witch was behind him. "It looks interesting," She muttered. "It is," He assured. She nodded her head with a small smile and placed her iPods in back, resting her head back against the car seats, she closed her eyes.

I wasn’t sure I wanted to know. He moved quickly, weaving through aisles until we reached the far end of the room. There, he scanned the shelves with his fingertips before pulling out a thick tome coated in dust. The cover was bound in faded leather and sealed with a clasp that didn’t look remotely normal, it had symbols carved into it, almost like tiny constellations. He traced a symbol over the clasp, and with a soft metallic click, it released. The book creaked open. I hovered beside him, leaning just enough to glimpse the pages he flipped through, each one filled with looping glyphs and illustrations of creatures, rituals, symbols, and magic I’d only heard about in stories people labeled

Rex said, lowering his head, the words Buckins used cut a little deeper than expected, he had started to become a little spoilt, throwing the royalty word around a bit lately to get his own way. “Very good, the shelves are that way” Buckins said, his mood lifting a little at Rex’s words, bouncing off with a quiet whistle to fetch the books he needed for Rex’s lesson. Huffing a little, Rex gripped his duster and made for the rows he was instructed to dust off, after ten minutes, the task had already become mind-numbing, so to make it easier for him to complete the task, Rex started looking at the book covers he was cleaning. Some titles seemed interesting to him, like ‘How to kill and skin a

I opened it and found myself entering a smaller version of the library downstairs. There was no swirling staircase going up, up, up, rather walls full of books, some of which were only accessible via the sliding ladder off to the side. With my stomach full and heart heavy, I waltzed over to one of the shelves and scanned them, intending to pick a book at random. One in particular drew my eye. The cover was made of dark leather, embossed with a swirling gold font that was a bit hard to read. Tendrils of flame, interwoven with threads of shadow, danced up the spine and around the back.

Surprisingly, I don't find the idea disturbing. Feeling boredom as it sets in quickly, I make my way over to the bookshelf. I start to peruse the titles and am shocked at what I find. I see the House of Night Series, The Twilight Series, Forbidden Knowledge, Harry Potter Trilogy, and various books on Military Protocols all with black covers. The books are all in good condition too. Not interested in any of the military books I reach for the first book in the House of Night Series. As I take the book over to the couch to settle in, the door swings open.

“But be careful what you seek. Some knowledge carries a weight that’s hard to put down.” I nodded silently, then turned my attention to the books. I ran my fingers along the spines, each one labeled with symbols instead of titles. One in particular caught my attention, it had a crimson ribbon binding it shut, with a faint marking on the cover: a crescent moon surrounded by flames. Without knowing why, I reached for it. The moment my fingers touched the leather, a shiver ran down my spine. Something told me this book wasn’t just old, it was forbidden.

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The books here were faintly covered in dust. As he reached out to the top shelf, his eyes fell on a familiar thick black book lying on the floor. The Art Of The Body. Before he could stop himself, his eyes flicked up and locked with Scarlett. She didn't look away, but a deep blush gradually spread across her cheeks. That book brought back memories, and for a moment, he forgot the unspoken tension between them. He looked away finally and pulled out several dusty books from the shelf. Two were about old werewolves, one about vampires, and the last one was about witches.