Creepy Minecraft Stories Novels & Stories

A portion of the sun peeked through the big mountains, gracing rich yellow rays down the busy Town Square. Vampires wearing gray cloaks passed from houses to houses, whispering rumors about the king’s death. One of them even said he caught an incurable disease from the mortal realm, and they would soon be infected with it. From there, another vampire would spread the information, possibly adding some spice in the story until the truth had been buried by a wild variation of lies.

Uncle said, shaking. ++++++++++++ And the mystery deepens while the stories get scarier. This sounds like something straight out of a horror film. The thing is, it's being told by a real person and based on experiences that his family had gone through. Hopefully, you will be back for more so you can find out if this lady in black will finally back off from the Uncle. Or maybe, something else might happen... Something more terrifying! So this is your Storyteller The Diwata saying, goodnight and fare thee well. Hope to see you again in The Supernatural Spa.

“Don’t worry Evan, this will get back to you soon enough. You’ll get to respond to everything. Okay, I tried calling the other locations called Helencia, and I either received no response because the locations didn’t understand what I was talking about, or the phone numbers no longer worked. This means if we travel through the other realm. We don’t know if we can safely leave through the other portals. In an effort to keep up with our changing needs, I’ve ordered packs for us with simple survival gear that should work in the other realm without too much interference from magic. Now onto the library research, we’ve got our hands full. The deaths appear to happen in cycles. Each death is diffe

Anyway, he kept saying that there are horrible creatures that lurk in the darkness here… While growing up he told me the story of the time when he was ten years old, his dog ran out of his family home—this townhome, the home I’m just about my home until my dad gets out of jail and the social worker says I can go back. He goes on and says that he watched his dog die that night being eaten alive by a wolf-like humanoid that he himself barely made it back home to safety. Then there were these stories of the locals being blood-sucking vampires and all the BS surrounding that subject. Oh and the witches of the forest and the great lake—supposedly they lure pregnant women to their deaths and drown

At least far more interesting than the story I heard yesterday at the antique auction, is this one, I thought. I became uneasy when he described how two werewolves broke their fated mate promise and unleashed a terrible calamity. The narrative was too visceral and realistic. Every time I hear the story, it seems to tighten my heart, so I don't want to listen to it anymore. It felt odd, as though I had also lived through the same narrative. She continued, "And it all began with the Grimoire." "Grimoire?" I asked, intrigued. This Grimoire seemed to be at the center of all the odd occurrences.

He asked and I furrowed my brows as I tried to piece the details together, then snapped my fingers when it all fell into place. "As a child, my grandmother used to tell me about The Mouth of the Mountain. A place buried under cursed snow. She said it was unmarked by time, a place 'where the dead chant for kings to rise.' She would make different crazy stories out of it, but always focused on the fact that it was a bad place, full of dark magic. I used to think it was all a folk tale. But I suppose it was just the stories she made around the place that was the tale. The place was actually real.” I said, remembering the stories vividly.

Just because he’d told her he loved her didn’t mean he’d refrain from killing her along with everyone else once his monster was unleashed. Silly character. But then, I guess that would mean foolish me too because, more importantly, no one was forcing me to read this. At night. During a thunderstorm. Creepy stories always kept me up, restless and alert to every creak and groan around me, especially when I’d been drinking. And yep, after a curious glance toward the coffee table, I noticed my wineglass was empty. As was the bottle sitting next to it. Sleep would most definitely be eluding me tonight.

“I think we’d better hurry.” Ru was walking already and Lyric’s words didn’t cause her to pause, but she did raise an eyebrow before asking, “Why is that?” “Just a feeling.” Before Ru could comment, there was a scurrying sound up in the loft area. Ru stopped and looked up. Across the ceiling, a black shadow began to creep. The form reminded her of a large lizard, but this one had two heads. “What the hell is that?” “That… is a Creeper,” Lyric replied, stepping up beside her. “And where there’s one, there’s a thousand.”

"The perimeter is leaking, and the undead have already found the seam. Clear the courtyard in two days. Every single one." A chill ran down my spine as I remembered the old northern stories—rotting jaws still snapping long after their legs had been severed, hollow bodies that kept tearing and feeding with no scent and no pain. They never stopped. I swallowed the fear rising in my throat and lifted my chin. "Fine. Give me the weapon."

Birdy nodded in agreement, "It is time for the ghost stories to begin and be spread. Stories of a pack of wolves that live nowhere but everywhere, who rescue the weak, broken, and unchampioned, taking those they rescue away with them and disappearing with no clues to who they are or where they came from." ​Three gods and one vampire nodded in agreement. "Let the fun begin. Go lay the groundwork to make the stories true when our wolves awake," Hyperion ordered. ​Cronos snickered, "This is going to be so much fun. I am glad Gaia is letting me loose to help lend credence to the stories." ​"What good are the stories without those needed to make them come true?" Bob wondered out loud.