Funny Horror Books Novels & Stories

The next day was better than I wanted it to be. Moira made me tea strong enough to wake the dead. Finn spent an hour convincing a grad student that her dissertation would be stronger if she stopped citing men who hated women. I shelved, dusted, learned where the cat preferred to nap (on top of Greek tragedies, appropriately). I found three books tucked in the back: a horror novel with a cover torn clean off, a psychology text full of annotations that read like confessions, and a slim volume of ghost stories. I brought them home with the excuse of “inventory check,” but really, I just wanted them near me. “You’re nesting,” Travis teased as I stacked them on the table. “Careful, Princess, you’

she continued. I didn’t wait for further directions and headed that way. Sara was right. The library was crammed with books so rare that I didn’t even think they existed. I ran my fingers over them and stopped at the supernatural section. Werewolves. The variety of these books was astonishing. A Hidden History or Under the Full Moon. But the one that caught my attention was The Grim Howl.

Damn, Freckles. The first book I pulled out was called “Images You Should Not Masturbate To”. I snorted, flipping through a couple of pages and shaking my head. That sarcastic streak of hers ran deep. I grabbed another, the title catching my eye: “How to Traumatize Your Children: 7 Proven Methods to Help You Screw Up Your Kids Deliberately and with Skill.” I let out a short laugh, one that came from somewhere I’d almost forgotten existed. Then there were the others—Fancy Coffins to Make Yourself, Do-It-Yourself Coffins for Pets and People, and, for good measure, How to Raise Your IQ by Eating Gifted Children. I shook my head, glancing back at her still sleeping form.

Thane dragged, “you mean everything, right?” I could see his point. Everything here gave me the creeps and made me feel uncomfortable—everything down to the creepy fur rug that covered the floor of this study, or whatever she might have chosen to call this place. “How about these?” Thane asked, drawing my attention to a shelf full of creepy books and tomes. “Not that. Creepy, but not creepy enough,” I said. “I smell blood and death all over them,” he said. “Fun, but not what I’m looking for,” I replied.

"He's one of the most infamous, but compared to some of the other men in that book, and women, he was child's play." "I didn't think you'd be interested in something like this." "It's basic psychology, Comrade. We're interested in the macabre and gruesome." She explained. "It's why horror sells, things like bloody video games exist because of it, and, of course, violence. We're fascinated by it. I'm going to guess when you picked up that book, you were hesitant to open it and find what was inside, but you did anyway, and you were drawn in."

I glared at the book till I was on my bed and the book never opened - maybe it is my illusion. I ducked myself into the sheets and this time I could hear the flipping of a book - The book. I was scared as hell because when I was still young, I read a lot of horror stories without the consent of my mother, Nahigra. I stared until the last flip of a page. Gradually and slowly as I can, I left my bed to see what my eyesight can't comprehend. To my surprise, it was still that same chapter and a phrase written in bold, "WHEN EVERYTHING GOES SOUTH, DO NOT GO NUT?"

I place it on the table beside me and reach for the next. ‘Vampyres or Vampires? – An encyclopaedia of fact, fiction and food sources.’ The irony of the blood red lettering and dry humour of the title make me chuckle in spite of the hairs on the back of my neck standing on end. I move to place the heavy book on top of it’s witchy companion and my fingers tingle as they brush something on the back. “What have we here?” yes, I talk to myself on occasion.

“Anything really. I like thrillers, horror, fantasy… and my favorite book… well, that depends, I guess.” “On what?” “What genre we’re talking about? In fantasy, I have to go with the classic Lord of the Rings. Neil Gaiman is another favorite, and of course, in horror, you can’t go wrong with Stephen King.” “Wow, impressive,” I replied, and Shaun looked almost bashful. “Yeah, my mom got me into a lot of that. She’s a big reader too.” We talked a little more about books before leaving the small restaurant. “Now, let’s see if we can fix our broken book,” Shaun said as he held my hand to the car.

This shadow, this darkness with fangs, it had the power to stipulate how they dreamed and that made him crazy with need to blow the creature’s head off. “This is a local legend about nightmares, a satanic sorcerer, and black magic. It is titled as Shadows and Blood, and is 50 years old. Folklore, through songs and words and this guy had recorded it down, a little and a lot of his own story.” She looked at the book, biting her lips, forehead crinkling in concentration. “Sound gory and ancient and I have never heard of this.” Art said as he struggled to open his tired eyes. It burned from the lack of sleep. Aurora looked tired as well, but she was dogged to finish the book, to find anything mo

Please tell me it’s some stupid frat nickname they got in college and it’s just an inside joke. He doesn’t reply, just turns his head and looks back towards the house, slowly sliding his hands in his pockets. Right, all the useless true crime info i’ve collected over the years really needs to come in handy right now. What was that one book I read? About listening to your fear and it’s never wrong. I mean, the premise is great Mr Clever Author, but in practice, what if you're being led by your three year sex dry spell hmmm? What then?