Frankenstein Gothic Novels & Stories

Actually she never liked excessive interactions with other people. "You can see over there is the library. Over there, the Witch class. The moss green building is Sirens class. Well, next to it is the Vampire class. Then ...." Louisa explained all details of the existing buildings inside the Gothic Academy, while Lyla listened lazily. "Over there, the mixed class. It is held once a week." Louisa continued.

“Morning!” From the corner of his eye, Frank saw the ivory sculpture still sitting in the middle of the kitchen island. He turned to face it and put both hands on either side of it, palms flat on the counter. “I guess we’ll need to get some floating shelves. I don’t know why, there is something creepy about that sculpture, but I like it.” “It’s coming from a very old family of vampires. I’ll introduce you to them eventually. There are a lot of people I wouldn’t trust around you or want to know about you, but I trust them. They’re good people.”

"Here. Look at this chart below. It will tell you everything you need to know." I pointed to the bottom of the page in an attempt to distract myself from saying or doing something stupid. I'd had my share of sexual escapades, but no female caused me to feel this nervous. Her laughter could make even the coldest of hearts break. It's as if I lost all sense of rational thinking when she's around me. Gwen held the book in her hands and continued to read. “‘Red eyes indicate that vampires live on human blood and have recently drank from a human.’”

“But maybe it’ll save you tonight.” Francesa frowned. “¿Qué?” The madame gave her a slow, strange smile. “We’ll see.” The car wound up a long, dark road, trees thick on both sides, until the air itself felt heavy. Francesa pressed her face against the glass. The mansion came into view—an enormous stone castle rising out of the woods, its windows glowing faintly with amber light. “Dios mío,” Francesa whispered. “It’s like Dracula lives here.”

"Don't trust anything." We followed Dracula inside. The castle's interior was exactly as I remembered, gothic, elegant, and slightly menacing. Candles burned everywhere despite the fact that electricity clearly existed here. Portraits of people who were probably dead lined the walls. And everywhere, there were vampires. Watching us. Whispering. "They're staring," Marcus whispered. "They're hungry," Erina replied. "Stay close to me. They won't attack while I'm here." Dracula led us through winding corridors until we reached a massive library. Books covered every surface, floor to ceiling. Some looked ancient, bound in leather that might have been skin. Others glowed with their own light.

It was the most disconcerting thing and yet it felt as normal and in place as a puzzle piece. He hesistated for a few seconds but then after probably a great internal battle, his hands slowly found their way to my lower back and that was when I truly, fully broke. My father was dead. My rock. The one person who had always been there for me was dead. He smelt of travel and a light hint of some exquisite perfume. His vampire scent was sophisticated. Like expensive leather in a forest that rain had just fallen in. Definitely noble. Pure blooded vampires always had a sophisticated scent to them. Turned had a less sophisticated scent and children of turned had an even diluted scent. Similar to th

The strict checking on the border made me even more nervous about all that. There were vampires at every turn when we crossed the borders. The chilly atmosphere, the gloom lurking on every tree; the silence piercing the ears, the hollow and lifeless streets. Everything coloured in the grey colour like that of the clouds. The houses were all high class, like enormous mansions in aesthetics of dark colours and large precincts. Ravens were everywhere with their croaking, sending chills down my spine. They would come out of nowhere and vanish into nothingness. Phantoria was completely opposite to Amanustan. The land was deprived of cheerfulness, ecstasy, and life. Just like vampires, their land

screamed Anthony, terrified, “you need to see this.” Hansly and Dmitri ran to a room around the corner of the hallway to see the rest of the men gathered inside a large study. It was the smell that caught Dmitri first. A thick, unbreathable stench of death filled his nostrils which closed his throat and his eyes stung. He made his way into the study and knew that this memory would be burnt into his brain for as long as he breathed. Headless torsos stripped of most of their flesh hung on the walls along with decaying arms, legs and heads like trophies, paintings made with blood glued to the walls and even photographs of Werewolves, Vampires, Witches and other supernatural beings being torture

I tried not to think too much about the way we had left things the night before and put on my bravest face as I headed to the library. But when I arrived, Sebastian was nowhere to be found. Suddenly, everything went dark. I instinctively activated my werewolf senses, but the darkness felt uncanny, almost suffocating. As I stumbled through the darkened library, I couldn't help but feel a growing sense of dread in my gut. It was as if the darkness itself was alive, thick and oppressive, wrapping around me like a suffocating shroud. The air felt heavy and stagnant, almost as if it was pressing down on me with some kind of malevolent intent.

Something within her leapt to meet it. The darkness was grainy, empty — gilded in small pools by candlelight and the thin shafts of moonlight that penetrated the stained-glass windows. Rose smiled, feeling disappointed. Wishful thinking. Too many vampire novels. Anne Rice and Freda Warrington had a lot to answer for. Then the shadows moved. The breath caught in Rose’s throat. Her mouth went dry with anticipation even while a heady pulse ticked between her legs. ‘Come then,’ she said softly.