Novel & Cerita Fiction Horror Books

The next second, the Patchwork Monster tore the man in half. He tossed the body outside casually. Just then, a crisp, bell-like voice sounded outside. “It’s after work hours, who’s so rude as to be throwing bodies around?” A young girl with three heads and eight arms appeared at the doorway. With just one look at the shop, anger filled her voice, and her hair stood on end. “Who the hell had a death wish and smashed the Number One Must-Eat shop in the entire horror game?”

What business did Allison have with a witch of that caliber? My gaze drifted away from the list, landing on the chaos of the desk. Only then did I truly see the mess. It wasn’t just papers; it was a library of obsession. Documents were scattered everywhere, burying the wood surface. I picked up a few books, reading the spines. ‘Tales of the Undead’. ‘The Physiology of the Damned’. ‘The Half-Demon’s Plight’. All titles about vampires. They weren’t particularly strange books for a Hunter to possess, I had read most of them myself during training. Know thy enemy. It was Rule Number One. When you hunted apex predators, knowledge was the only equalizer.

Food did not taste like anything anymore, sleep would not come no matter how exhausted I was, and when it did, I’d wake up gasping, searching for him in the darkness. Something was breaking inside me. No, that’s not right. Something was already broken. I shoved the library door open and stepped inside, desperate. I had been here every night, pouring over books, old texts, even folklore sections I would have laughed at months ago. But now? I’m not laughing. I’m tearing through pages, flipping between stories about werewolves, packs, bonds, rituals, anything that could explain what was happening to me. And the more I read, the more horrifyingly clear it became.

Maybe with Phoebe, we’ll be able to unravel the mysteries around this. Waking side by side, we went into her room. Picking up the book, it ignited with a golden glow, pages opening on its own. “What sort of book is this?” I muttered to myself, scrutinizing it. Thankfully, Hayley wasn’t in the room, giving us time to read it. The book talked about creatures that existed before werewolves such as vampires, fox spirit, fairies and the rest. Phoebe seemed more invested in fox spirits, her fingers traced the intricate drawings, her gaze never leaving. Following her line of sight, I saw the drawing of a fox with nine tails, its eyes ignited with a violet glow, looking so divine and magnificent. “V

Finally, she found the one she was looking for. Layla managed to grab the book and add it to her stack in her arms when her eyes caught sight of something. A book stood out among the rest. It was bound with dark brown leather and had brandished designs on the spine. The title read - Malleus Vampiro: A Treatise on Vampires. Placing her other books on the floor, Layla pulled the leather-bound book from its home amongst the others and opened it. As her eyes skimmed the pages, she caught a couple of words; SHADOW STALKERS, BLOODSUCKER, PHANTOMS.

They were images of blackened houses, broken bodies, and trembling survivors murmuring in fear. “They said they saw… shadows with horns,” Eden whispered. “They said the shadows walked through fire and didn’t burn. They tore through flesh like paper. One old man said he saw a child disappear in the blink of an eye. There was no blood. No scream. Just… gone.” Sophia paled. Her fingers trembled as she reached into the folds of her robe and pulled out a tattered, leather-bound grimoire. She flipped the pages quickly. “I’ve read this before,” she muttered,. “Long ago. When I was a child. The signs… horned shadows, vanishing people, soulless fire. It’s not mortal.”

The section where books on lore and the supernatural appeared the most disturbed. “Well, that confirms it. Someone, I presume Professor Digby, has gone through all the books on anything that refers to the supernatural. Ghost, fairies, and witchcraft. None of the books appear marked by use as far as I can see and there're no spaces where there might be a book missing. Before you ask, no, there’s no grimoire, and nothing wrapped in human skin as far as I can tell.”

After resting for a while, they walked around and saw a bookstore which they both agreed to enter. She was reading the back of Sense and Sensibility by Jane Austen when Jacob asked her. “What do you say let’s read horror books? Like the ones we watched today?” “Eh? I’m scared. You go read first, then give me a summary, then I’ll decide. Haha!” “Roger!” as he picked The Dunwich Horror and Others by H.P. Lovecraft and IT by Stephen King. They finished book shopping, it was around three in the afternoon when Jacob invited her to go somewhere else.

His wrinkled face looked like it was crawling with countless wriggling worms. I shuddered and stepped back, whispering to Silvia, "Good thing I've got you. This place is terrifying." She snorted and suddenly shoved me forward, straight toward George. With an icy laugh, she said, "This pretty boy will make a great offering. You're going to love him." Before I could react, George gestured, and several eerie puppets stepped forward to pin me down and drain my blood. A sharp bell rang out, echoing through the night.

Like I was shopping for bedtime stories instead of trying to decide whether my life had cracked open into impossibility. “Thank you,” I murmured. The folklore section was tucked into a quiet corner near a window that looked out toward the forest. Of course it did. The books there were a strange little army: weathered hardcovers, thin local history pamphlets, glossy paperbacks with titles involving moons and curses and women who looked poorly dressed for weather. I started with the serious looking ones. Northern Appalachian Folk Beliefs, Predator Myths of the American East, Silver, Salt, and Blood: Ritual Materials in Regional Lore. I pulled them down one by one, making a stack against my che