Fiction Horror Books Novels & Stories

For a moment, he just stood there with furrowed brows, his orbs fixed on the cover. “Zombies are Real?” he read, tapping his fingers on the book. Taking a deep breath, he averted his gaze to the books seated next to them. Using his free hand, he grabbed one. “Supernatural Being.” With his lips curled, he scanned them from back-to-front cover. Immediately after, his mind drifted without prior warning. Something about the titles probed his guts. He just didn’t know what. Should he believe these zombies and supernatural beings were true? If not, how could he explain what he’d seen the night before?

I have no idea. The books were old, some pages are rotten and smell like mushrooms in a wet forest. I smiled when I realized that these books were precious. And they were all about my kind, the Helsings. For hours, all I did was read and get drowned in these pile of books. I have never been flooded with knowledge unlike before. The more I got absorbed into the pages, the more this hatred towards the corrupted vampires grew. It was eye-opening. Written on the page was,

“No doubt.” “What about those two small FedEx boxes?” “Most recent novels from Samhain Horror.” “Awesome. Those books I bought at the Webb County Library sale last week?” “Sorted into general and mystery fiction. Struck the mother lode with all those Mary Higgins Clark novels.” “We cater to all tastes, miss. Unless you like Twilight, 50 Shades of Gray or James Patterson. Folks want drivel, they can drive to Utica.” “Hey. I actually liked Twilight. It wasn’t all bad.”

, someone announced on the stage which made me concentrate back to stage to see that my friend was about to start her performance and as soon as she hit the first cord of her vocals, all sort of negative energy just vanished atleast that is what I felt and also by this time the entire book store was mesmerized by her soulful voice and the light music was complementing it the best way possible but now all I could think about was all the possible assumptions which could give me any logical reason for the extremely weird energy of that place. At the end of the performance I moved towards my right to nearest book shelf which was of fiction category and it has always been my favourite genre as i

I was able to shout at them my teeth gritting together with the cold. The girl, Cassidy or whoever she was, moved towards my two servants Ana and Marissa, she stood over them as she motioned her hand to them as if she was choking them and I see them in pain coughing hard again and again their face turning blue as blood flowed out of their mouths. I was terrified. I can feel my heart beating so fast, I'm in a panic. I have to snap out of whatever spell or voodoo this is. Hannah? I told myself this cannot be. I must be dreaming. I closed my eyes trying to calm down while telling myself that this is not true this is just a dream. I breathe in and out. It suddenly felt very quiet. I can feel my

There was a table. Books stacked on it. Not like the ones I used to see at home. These looked older. Some of them had markings on the covers I didn’t understand. I walked closer. My fingers hovered over one of them before I touched it. The cover felt rough. Worn. I opened it slowly. The pages were filled with symbols. Not letters. Not words I knew. Shapes. Lines. Things that looked like drawings but weren’t. I frowned. “What is this…?” I flipped a page.

His presence was tense, as if he was waiting for something to move in the shadows. “Black magic,” he murmured, reaching for a book with gold-edged pages. The cover had a strange sigil, one that pulsed faintly under the dim lighting. I frowned. “This place… it doesn’t feel right.” It wasn’t just the books. There were jars placed on a nearby table—each containing murky liquids and unidentifiable objects floating within. Some looked like dried-up hearts, others like small, shriveled hands. I swallowed hard. Hades exhaled sharply. “It’s worse than I expected.”

They were self-explanatory, and she would be able to tell which part of the book was most promising. She flipped through until she reached the back of the book with the cautionary tales. She skipped over the first one about Lysander, and the next few didn't seem promising either. Story after story passed by, and she was about to give up and read it closely for hints . . . until the very last section. Her fingers froze, her breath caught in her chest, and horror coursed through her veins as she read the title of the section: 'Blood Magic and the Creation of the Vampire-Human Child'

Surprisingly, I don't find the idea disturbing. Feeling boredom as it sets in quickly, I make my way over to the bookshelf. I start to peruse the titles and am shocked at what I find. I see the House of Night Series, The Twilight Series, Forbidden Knowledge, Harry Potter Trilogy, and various books on Military Protocols all with black covers. The books are all in good condition too. Not interested in any of the military books I reach for the first book in the House of Night Series. As I take the book over to the couch to settle in, the door swings open.

Shaking her head, she said, "But aren't you only like that because you idiotically accepted an accursed book from a nobody? You said, you don't even believe in ghosts before you got that." He sighed and took out the book which always appeared inside his pocket for several months now. The book was giving off a mysterious vibe due to its black worn-out cover featuring a faceless monster. He got it from a fake friend who had styled himself as a book collector. Nathan was a horror writer so he accepted the creepy book. His initial objective was only to look for more ideas and inspiration. Who would have thought the horror writer who never believed in ghost would suddenly start seeing creepy ghos