Disturbing Gore Books Novels & Stories

she retorted. "Oh, please. Her life isn't at stake here. But yours is." I took the drenched books out of the bag and tossed them on the coffee table. They had a particular smell to them. I picked one up and examined it. It seemed to be bound by animal skin. The paper used was papyrus and the ink used was... I took a closer look and then took a whiff. Blood. There was no doubt that these books were invaluable. She walked closer to them and I saw fear slither into her eyes the moment she read the titles. "He knows."

“What the bloody hell is that?” I moved away from Ryker, my eyes were solely fixated on the book. Wiping away the shattered glasses, I did not care if it would hurt me. Once it was clean, I read the book to Ryker. “It is the Book of The Damned.” All I wanted was to get a hold of that book and satisfy my curiosity but when I did, I could feel the power surging from the book, my hands were painfully attached to it. Then the book opened, forcing my palm to hold it up the pages started to flip rapidly. So many images flashed through my mind but none of which I recalled. The book slammed shut and I blinked. I turned to Ryker and swallowed before finding my voice to speak, “Did you see that?”

"I need the anatomy book you've got—full-on body display and the one murderers look for.." The man licks his lips, swallowing before seeming to open a secret drawer underneath his desk. "I know what you need; this book is named, 'How To Kill Like A Serial Killer,' and it's everything you're searching for, ma’am." I smile. "How much?" Two minutes later, I hurry to leave the bookstore. I ended up buying the goddamn book and some other anatomy book I’m obsessed with to keep me up all night and ignore Axel. These books will surely keep me from trying to kill Axel.

Darren’s nose cringed. He felt the urge to trash away the books into the garbage, but after a moment of hesitation he picked one and read it. His knitted brows didn’t loosen until he put it down. The content of the books were even more shocking than their titles. Darren felt the need to wash his eyes after reading it.

But Becky owned her nerdy, geeky side. In the study, they split off and got down to search. It took hours combing through the books. They didn’t appear to be disturbed all that much. A few showed evidence of recently being removed from their place, but beyond that, nothing jumped out at Gemma. The section where books on lore and the supernatural appeared the most disturbed.

Mason. The golden morning sun spills into the library, creating spectral dancing patterns on the brown wooden floor. A little ray shading on my face but that didn't deter my attention from the fantasy book I was reading. I blink away the tiredness forming on my eyelids for the umpteenth time, flicking to the next page. Not attempting to allow myself to fall asleep. I can't! Every fucking time I close my eyes I can't help but see a bloody vivid image of that gore sight I saw earlier. It makes my skin crawl. I hate it!

Then, to the right, and at the end of a long row of books, one book jutted out from the shelf. I pulled it out. It didn’t have a name. It was a leather-bound volume, and its cover had a skeletal hand clutching a wilting rose. I opened the book, skimming through the pages. My stomach turned at some of the rituals inside. Selene was too arrogant, too vein, to resort to grave robbing, and there would be no need to stitch me together if her plan was to take over people’s bodies as she had before. The Binding.

The air is still and quiet, filled with secrets waiting to be uncovered. I select another volume and add it to my ever-growing pile. The worn leather spines creak as I pile another stack of books into my arms. Their dusty pages call to me, begging to be opened and explored. I hoisted the stack of books higher in my arms, struggling to keep them balanced. There must have been at least two dozen volumes weighing down my arms, ranging from gothic horror to historical romances, all consists of something dark.

“Yesterday you were running dead defying in the middle of a street and today you are so squeamish. What happened?" There was an evil eye for that. "I am definitely not squeamish," he explained and entered the building behind our guide. "How would you then call it?" "Interested in the survival of my limbs." Ah yes. "I'll stick to being squeamish." The entrance area here was also constructed in a very similar way to the administration building. There was a reception counter with a nice lady behind it, but instead of a plaque of honor, the walls here were covered with paintings by Proles. It was almost frightening how well the painter had captured the grace and beauty of these animals while at

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.