Novel & Cerita Dark Horror Books

"My grandmother told me from childhood that there is a terrible evil lurking in the dark, so I should beware of the darkness... So I have always been afraid of the dark. I always came home before dusk and asked my mother not to turn off the light in my room. Then she would light a candle for me and put it on the bedside table next to my bed to save electricity. I stared at that flame and felt safe, as if some invisible force hidden within that flame was watching over me, protecting from all evil. However, the darkness caught me then in my dreams, it lurked, hiding in its depths overgrown creatures with huge teeth, long claws and wild eyesight. Chased by these terrible creations of my childho

Her eyes rolled back in her head, and she slammed her fist against the glass, not to escape, but to warn me. She wasn't pointing at the creature. She was pointing at me. I followed her frantic gesture, looking at the window again. I looked at the glass, but I didn't see her reflection. I saw mine. But the reflection wasn't mine. It was the face of the portrait. The room began to shake. The walls of the Master Suite groaned, the wood warping and twisting like agonized flesh. I realized then that the dare wasn't a game. It was a harvest. The Blackwood Estate didn't just haunt people; it cycled them.

Below it, two opposing forces met in a cataclysmic confrontation. I recognized the faces of the Lycan brothers, their ferocity unleashed, fighting with a primal hunger I hadn't witnessed before. And then, a moment that stole my breath—a massive, shadowy creature, its eyes burning with an infernal light, rising from the depths, casting a pall over everything. It was a being of pure malevolence, and my blood ran cold as I felt its gaze, even through the vision, pierce directly into my soul. The final image was of a colossal, ancient tree, its roots reaching deep into the earth, its branches stretching towards the heavens, yet its leaves were withered and black, as if cursed.

I swallow the lump in my throat and descend. The air down here is cooler, thicker with the smell of leather and dust and secrets. Torches have guttered out, but faint violet light clings to the edges of things—my new sight, maybe, or the contract’s gift. The shadows dance ahead of me, playful almost, skipping along the shelves until they reach a particular bookcase. One tendril stretches, points. A heavy black tome launches itself from the highest shelf and thumps into my waiting hands. I stagger under the weight. The book is bound in leather so dark it drinks the light; no gold leaf, no embossed sigils, just smooth, inky blackness. The title is etched in silver that seems to shift when I ti

Fenrir spoke, diverting my attention. “That was fast.” I spoke. “Of course, I’m actually useful.” He spoke, giving Damon a death glare. “I’m listening.” I said. “When you mentioned the entity being a shadow or rather a dark shadow that granted wishes in exchange for souls I thought that sounded familiar—anciently familiar.” He pulled out a book, “Hey, librarian, know about this?” The book was old, with the back pages already peeling off. It read in bold, vintage font, “Elemental Werewolves: The Curse of The Dragon.”

Dad grabbed the nurse, throwing her out of the room alongside himself. "Well-done, Emily, you have accomplished your mission." A sinister scent emerged, a wicked laugh echoing across the room. The once blue sky was now a mixture of black and white with the moon reflecting its radiant image. Wails filled the air as a ray of light fell from the sky, hitting a mountain on the other side of town. I groaned, wincing as my hand was scorched by the flaming book. The pages settled, words in red appearing on the pages. "Strigoi, Nosferatu, Jiangshi…"

The moment the shattered library door swung shut behind us, the world fractured into two distinct, terrifying realities. Outside, the moaning chorus of the drawn horde swelled, a dissonant symphony of hunger echoing off the brick and concrete of the campus. Inside, it was a tomb. The air was cold, stale, and heavy with the scent of decaying paper, old leather, and the pervasive, sweet-rotten undertone that signaled death. Dust motes, disturbed by our violent entry, danced in the few slivers of gray light that cut through the grimy, high-set windows, illuminating a vast, shadowy expanse of towering bookshelves that receded into an abyssal darkness.

Olson Embers: A Collection of Dark Fiction by Kenneth W. Cain Visions of the Mutant Rain Forest, by Bruce Boston and Robert Frazier Tribulations by Richard Thomas Eidolon Avenue: The First Feast by Jonathan Winn Flowers in a Dumpster by Mark Allan Gunnells The Dark at the End of the Tunnel by Taylor Grant Through a Mirror, Darkly by Kevin Lucia Things Slip Through by Kevin Lucia Where You Live by Gary McMahon Tricks, Mischief and Mayhem by Daniel I. Russell

Connect with me online at: www.autumndawnbooks.com http://authorautumndawn.blogspot.com Bibliography: Spark Series: When Sparks Fly Dorchester No Words Alone Dorchester Solar Flare Anthology for the Mammoth Book of Time Travel Romance: Hemlock & Iron Indie books: Dark Lands Series in order: The Charmer Dark Lands: Homecoming Scent of Danger The Golden Bell Ghost in Her Heart Beast Wars Dark Lovers (G.Bell & Homecoming combo) Dark Warriors (Ghost IH & Beast Wars combo)

com Bibliography: Spark Series: When Sparks Fly Dorchester No Words Alone Dorchester Solar Flare Anthology for the Mammoth Book of Time Travel Romance: Hemlock & Iron Indie books: Dark Lands Series in order: The Charmer Dark Lands: Homecoming Scent of Danger The Golden Bell Ghost in Her Heart Beast Wars Dark Lovers (G.Bell & Homecoming combo) Dark Warriors (Ghost IH & Beast Wars combo) The Woman Inside The Other Woman Through the Looking Glass Ride The Stars Careful, He Bites Interstellar Lover Under the Bridge