First Horror Story Novels & Stories

She asked looking over the manicured lawn. "Let me finish the story, please.” He stood behind her laying his chin on her shoulder and a hand on her waist. “The Howling One has always been a legend among us. He is a story told around campfires to scare the young. No one has ever seen him and lived, until now. Almost a decade ago, the shadow realm crossed into our realm. During those heated hours, a vicious battle broke out across the lower end of the city. In the aftermath of this battle, it was said Night Terror's only child, a daughter, was taken that night."

In 1983 a Mrs Carson of New York was laid out in our coffin, presumed dead of hear disease. As mourners watched, she suddenly sat up, alive as you or I. Unfortunately her daughter dropped dead of fright on the spot. I don't own any of this stories. I found them in some creepy books. I'm thinking of writing my own scary stories, but not anytime soon. You can send me your short stories for a feature if you feel like it. Thanks for reading. Enjoy!I don't own any of this stories. I found them in some creepy books. I'm thinking of writing my own scary stories, but not anytime soon.

“I think so too. Do you guys think he’s being possessed by Asmodeus?” Sebastion gave a solemn nod. “Yeah, I think you’re right.” Looking at them both, Gary pinched the bridge of his nose helplessly. “Are you two writing a horror story?” “This is too terrifying for a horror story, okay?” said Henry. “Don’t ask. We don’t know,” said Sebastian.

A loud, insistent pounding. Her scalp prickled. She froze, curling back against the sofa cushions. Every crime story she’d ever read, every horror movie she’d ever watched flashed through her mind. Her whole back went cold.

“’Twas my hope to have eliminated the threat of the vampire before she awoke.” “How?” he asked. “I know not,” she said with a sad tone and a slow shake of her head. “I fear I have little knowledge when it comes to vampires. This has been my first and only encounter.” “Did you actually see him?” he asked. “We have yet to meet,” she said. “It has been centuries of cat and mouse.” She gave a wry snicker, “I have been the mouse.” “Can I ask you why you hid Kira so far from Salem?” he asked.

"And you have pissed me off." He believes me. Suddenly he believes every horror story he has been told since he was a little boy. That they were all true: the dead things hungering for the warm living flesh; the bony hand coming out of the closet in the black of night; the monsters from another page of reality, the unturned page--who could look so human, so cute. He reaches for his gun. Too slowly, much too.

That first kill will always stay with me. The wolf standing across from me snaps his teeth at me, challenging me to make the first move. I wait. I want him to be anxious and make a mistake. And he finally does. He hesitates briefly. He goes to lunge, but hesitates for just a moment, remembering what I did to his friends just moments before. Then he commits to lunge at me, but I already anticipate the maneuver. I shoot up onto my hind legs and tower over his wolf. My front claws are in the air, lining up with his wolf’s exposed abdomen as he attempts to land on me. I dig my claws into his chest, then slowly lower down, digging my claws in deeper and deeper as they slide down his torso. His wo

As if that was not enough horror, the appearance had a mouth that had teeth poking out with no lips, a nose that seemed to be missing half the flesh on its left nostril, and hair which were mere wisps. It stood staring at her and her at him. It was her first time meeting with her sleep paralysis demon and it was something she hoped would never happen again. She tried to run away. She tried to run far from her dreams and into the real world but it was as if she had been glued there. With every passing moment that Hazel looked at the creature before her, her fear grew. Slowly, it lifted its hands and reached them out toward Hazel. Hazel had never faced any terror as great as what she felt when

If a werewolf had killed or tasted blood, his eyes would turn red and the more blood he tasted, it was likely that his eyes would become brighter. That meant the creature behind me had probably consumed a fountain of it. “Where do you think you're going?” It finally spoke. Its voice sounded like a lonely, yet dep tune played by a lost soul wandering the woods at midnight when children and even adults were asked to not come out. A horror story told to children and most adults to scare them off their nightly adventure. “I said come back here”. I yelled at myself, pushing me out of my imagination. Along with its utterance, came a fast lounge at me. It nearly grabbed me by the collar but I was f

The creature clutched its wound, golden eyes blazing with fury. “This isn’t over,” it snarled, voice warped with pain. “She belongs to us.” A shiver ran through me. Then, before Kade could strike again, the creature turned and disappeared into the shadows, its unnatural form melting into the night. Silence fell. I realized I was shaking. My wrist throbbed where it had grabbed me, but it wasn’t just pain that made my hands tremble. It was fear. Confusion. What had it meant?