Female Horror Movie Characters นิยาย & เรื่องราว

What does that even mean? The sky above Mother and I looked dark and ominous. Malleteagan stared at us with his faded dark grey eyes that glinted malevolently and sinisterly. Each time Malleteagan kills her, she morphs and transpires in another new scene. The new scene would be in the same place where I was held captive by Marcellus. Now, my mother's face would change to the face of an unknown woman of ethereal beauty; her facial features would slightly remind me of someone, but I couldn’t put my finger on who. Her body was mangled and scarred beyond recognition. The look in her eyes showed that she was in severe pain and mortified by people in her surroundings. She was shackled with cuffs o

I was faster than her. Hilda Farell's smile twisted into a deadly and malevolent grin, her eyes gleaming with an otherworldly intensity. "You have no inkling of the torment that awaits you," she hissed, her voice dripping with sadistic pleasure. "I will haunt you until your dying breath, and even beyond that, I will ensure your soul is forever trapped in a realm of suffering."

No one could sense his current strength if he didn't mention it. "I'm not, sorry. I just love horror movies and watch them often so I'm a little more courageous." The woman smiled bitterly. "It's alright then. As long as you listen to me, we'll definitely reach the third floor." Spirits and ghosts were directly related to the soul. Despite the layers of illusion around the private paradise of this Black Soul Scout, it was still manipulating souls at its core. "Hm, okay. This is my first time experiencing such things. As long as I can leave, I'll listen to you."

It was the ghost who latched onto me when the doorway first opened, the one I was responsible for, the one I blamed myself for. Alison. Part of me feared there might be part of her still here. But worse, that the monster she'd become might use this place as a hideout. Meeting up with blood-sucking Alison's echo, now a twisted and black creature influenced by Ameline Benoit, in a dark and creepy underchamber hidden below a vampire lair was the stuff of horror movies. The ones where the heroine dies in the end. I almost yelled at Liam not to go into the side chamber. Wasn't the handsome guy always the first one to bite it? Instead, I shook myself internally and got a freaking grip. Sometimes I

Turned to look at the movie again. She had picked it. A horror. Some woman who had the seventh sense. Normally I would say sixth but she not only saw ghosts but could relive memories. Honestly, it wasn't my cup of tea. But Camilo and Alejandro felt happy to think that they were 'protecting' me from whatever was on the screen. Which was a fucking evil nun of all things. Although Camilo loved scaring me whenever there was an intense scene. The bastard.

“Okay, take my attitude of rebellion and amp it up to a thousand. She’s half a foot taller than I am, and she adds in high healed boots, making her look huge. She dresses like an old school punk rocker in combat type gear and there’s nothing natural about her hair color. She’s loud and friendly. Not the personality of a typical vampire, and opposite to any movie type of vampires. You’ll like her.” “Well, if nothing else, characters are not lacking around here. What is it about everyone fearing poor Hilda?” “She feeds us. You never know what she’ll do to the food if she’s offended. One time she went on strike. Chaos reigned and nothing got done that month. She is the boss around here and she

" Go ahead, post it." "Oh so you don't mind me posting a picture of you wearing a pink bikini?" That was all I needed to say to wipe off the mocking grin on her face, replacing it with a horrified expression. "There's no such picture of me, I never wear pink bikinis," "That's what I thought until your mother showed me a certian picture of you chilling at the beach," Her expression was a telltale sign that she knew what I was talking about. Her groggy voice immediately adopted a nervous tune , the mood around her shifting abruptly. Me realising that picture of her dressed in pink would be her social suicide. Not that she had that many friends. In fact, Charli was a friendless loner, a lone wo

The nightmares did not stop. Every night, the ghosts came. My mother, her face twisted into a mask of shadow, her voice accusing. Kaelen, his eyes black, his hands reaching for my throat, his fingers cold. Lorna, her white hair wild, her crown of thorns dripping blood that sizzled where it touched the floor. Marcus, laughing, always laughing, his black eyes watching me from the corners of my dreams, his voice whispering that I would never be free.

Sebastian commented. “Maniac? I’m not a maniac?!” Charlotte exclaimed. “What normal woman enjoys watching horror movies? I mean women like you like watching romance movies?” Charlotte barfed at the words ‘romance movies.’ “Eww, romance movies are so cringey. It basically has the same storyline unlike horror movies when you don’t know what comes next.” “You’re a sick psycho and you don’t even know it,” Sebastian said and flicked her forehead lightly. “Oh well, this sick psycho is your wife and you're stuck with her for eleven months; so you better get used to it,'' Charlotte retorted.

Dread propels me from the bed and toward the window, every instinct screaming at me that something is terribly, horribly wrong. I reach the window just in time to see them emerge from the shadows – two figures, pale as death itself, their eyes rimmed with darkness and malice rolling off them in waves. I instantly recognize one from the nightmares that have plagued me since childhood, her face forever seared into my memory on the night she stole my father’s life. The other is equally familiar, though it takes me a moment to place her – for she seems almost unrecognizable, her features twisted into a mask of pure, unadulterated evil. Her hair has been shorn short, her eyes burning with a hatre