Extreme Horror Books Novels & Stories

Colin’s gaze falls to the book. “What is that?” “It’s our secret weapon.” “Yes, a book sounds really dangerous,” Stephen spits. “What is in the book is what matters,” I reply. “What’s in it, Alex?” Colin asks. “It’s the secrets of several supernatural species. Almost like someone researched them and recorded everything. Including all the ways to kill or harm them. Whoever wrote it had to have survived some really crazy things.” “Where did you find it?” Ray asks. “Was it in your library this whole time?”

I looked down at my stained hands, the red colour of the paint a contrast to my skin, attacking me with vivid flashes of the gory scene from the book I read through the night. The crunching of bones, the tearing of flesh, helpless screams, and growls echoed through my head incessantly like a flickering light that had no off-switch. The sounds grew more distorted, the image flashing before me growing more potent. Sinisterly beautiful grey eyes taking a crimson shade of red, fangs dripping with blood, veiny streaks scattered across the face like a violent crack of thunder.

Not just words spilling out this time. Scenes. Creatures. Hazards. One thick volume labeled CASTLE HAZARDS struck a stone, flipped open, and vomited a swarm of translucent, wailing shapes—castle ghosts, their eyes hollow, fingers like icicles. They shrieked and arrowed toward us in a ragged storm. Another book, NEON DRONE PATTERNS, burst against a fallen shelf. Drones extruded from the pages like wasps from a nest, metal bodies shining, eyes already lighting up with target locks.

“IT’S JUST I HAD a different book in mind when ink spilled on this one, plus what’s left to do in a finished book?” They, of course, ignored me Completely probably deciding if I would not explain, they were just going to proceed. One of the three waved their hand above the inky darkness we were standing on, and instantly a book on a pedestal was in front of them on the floor. It showed off my title, ‘1001 Dark Tales’. I instantly held my breath, hoping they didn’t realize what that meant. But if they had, they said nothing. Instead, they just started flipping through the pages of the book, looking for which store to choose.

Histories, myths, philosophies—every book was a whisper of the past. Ashara’s gaze stopped on a particular section on the far wall, its books older, darker in design, and faintly ominous. Something about the curling silver script caught her attention. One of the titles read: Nocturnae Vitae: The Legacy of the Blood Born. Her breath hitched. “Vampires?” she murmured, tilting her head.

These are the questions a bookstore owner face when a mysterious book shows up. Samurai and Other Stories by William Meikle—No one can handle Scottish folklore with elements of the darkest horror, science fiction and fantasy, suspense and adventure like William Meikle. The Dark at the End of the Tunnel by Taylor Grant—Offered for the first time in a collected format, this selection features ten gripping and darkly imaginative stories by Taylor Grant, a Bram Stoker Award® nominated author and rising star in the suspense and horror genres. Grant exposes the terrors that hide beneath the surface of our ordinary world, behind people’s masks of normalcy, and lurking in the shadows at the farthest

For hours now, she had gripped some sheets she found on the bed, depressed on her tongue and has been sweating drops of terror from her skin. She felt the heavy yellow glow press down upon her like a mega-tonne, perversely watching her cower under her soft quilt. She began to grow tired and her eyelids dropped and she was finally at rest for the first time in hours. When she opened her eyes again the yellow light blinded her and without a sound, her demonic intruder was face to face with her; in this moment she shrieked out a primal scream of sheer terror which the creature bathed in with great pleasure, as it seemed to feed on her very fear.

“Light or dark doesn’t matter. It’s just levels of nasty when we wash the laundry and take out the trash.” That was something odd to say in Ian’s estimation. He knew they’d be euphemisms, but for what he wasn’t sure. Looking at the now open book. There're scribbled notes covering the pages' empty spaces as they fought for room with the diagrams and symbols. The splotches must be ink or blood. The paper was yellowed, and the ink faded. Ian knew nothing about books. To him, it looked old and ready to fall apart. “But do we have what we need to kill them? Or can we kill them?”

I could only hope that she would have settled in again by tonight, because otherwise I would be allowed to sleep on the couch one night again - and it was really uncomfortable. Sighing, I leaned back and opened the completely tattered book again, which I actually already knew by heart. But I wanted to repeat as much as possible today so that I could get off to a good start tomorrow. I ran my finger over the familiar table of contents. Foreword, evolution, instinct, social life, physiology, reproduction, ancestry, stem groups and subspecies. How many times had I made this movement with my finger? I couldn't count it anymore, but it was like a little ritual I had to go through before I could s

Before I could see their further reactions, I sped from her room and as I did so, all the special senses I once had went with it. *WARNING! DARK FANTASY/PARANORMAL! THIS BOOK CONTAINS DETAILED SCENES OF SEXUAL ASSAULT AND SLAVERY, ESPECIALLY IN THE FIRST CHAPTERS. IF IT EVER GETS TOO EXTREME FOR YOU, YOU CAN KINDLY LEAVE. THANK YOU FOR READING AND BE READY BECAUSE THIS IS NOT ALL FUN AND GAMES. IT'S A CRAZY RIDE THAT WILL MAKE YOU WANNA LOVE THEM, HATE THEM, HAVE THEM AND KILL THEM SO WATCH OUT!*