Goosebumps An Old Story Novels & Stories

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.

He dropped his school bag on the floor, beside his bed, went straight to his desktop system and typed the keywords: ‘Killer in Crescent creek’ From what Alonso read, the story of the Crescent creek killer was about a child who was born reputedly hideous, so ugly; his face scared the people that lived in crescent creek, but what seemed weird to him about the story was the fact it was based on what reportedly took place in the fifteenth century in a town called Old crescent. The boy, whose name was not mentioned, was forced to live alone, abandoned by his family and friendless. He usually lived around the swampy area in Old crescent, where an uninhabited cabin stood. The residents later starte

Rex added with an evil smirk, “revenge is sweet, isn’t it dung master?” “Although I do like a good gag, that was a little too much for me, I actually thought something was wrong, what is that old human story, the boy who called goat..” Markus added, rubbing his temple, it seemed this trip was giving him more grey hairs the longer it took and Rex was not helping. “You mean cried wolf? Why would goats be dangerous?” Rex said trying to supress a laugh.

I nodded, not showing how disappointed I was. One thing about him is that whenever he is angry, he overworks and I don't like it. I watched at the trees as baba driver revved up the car to life and drove into the lonely city of Abuja. The late hour sun was a bit harsh on my tender skin, the skin I took time to nurture. The weather changes easily, I vividly remembered when my cousin Khadija told me it is freezing. The house stood out different from the way I knew it. The house was painted and a giant gate replaced the old one.

Needless to say, he made any story including those that would normally be tagged as boring, sound like the most intriguing stories in the world. So, while everyone sat and fed on some freshly grilled meat mixed with vegetables, (which by the way, made Wilson feel insecure because it could easily attract any flesh eating beasts), the old man told stories after stories of the days back. Some were about his personal experiences and most were stories he had heard, true or untrue. "Do you know the full story behind this broken tar road?" The old man started after chewing on a large chunk of meat and drinking some water. Wine was intoxicating bad it was a terrible idea to drink in the wild. It was

I found this in the ‘Cursed site’ and brought it here so that my parents won’t burn it. “Gramps, have you seen the books I’ve collected yesterday?” “Ah, yeah. Found a book that would be an easy read.” He moved towards a pile that was separated from the rest. “Tis... The ugly duckling,” he said. He began scanning the said book. “Tis not the kid’s stories. It’s a love story.” He shook his head and smiled. “Teen girls must have covered it as a disguise. But why did they chose ugly duckling?”

I made a shaky motion on my head while holding the gate and climbed on it. “We warned you. A beast is living there!” The small man yelled, and their horrible faces changed into pale. I did not listen and continued to climb and jumped inside. A breeze blows into my face and body. I hugged myself, and my spines shivered as I saw dead trees and bushes surrounding the place. I felt at peace in this place but still had a fear that made me step back, and I spotted a broken chair near the fountain with no water giving me goosebumps. My guts are telling me I need to get out of here. I turned around and saw that the two creatures were gone. My bag was on the ground, and I carried it. I held the bronz

as an old memory began to worm its way into a nightmare. The Critters was just a story the older boys at school used to tell the smaller boys to try and make them wet their pants. Ed was a smaller boy, and if he was honest, the story still gave him chills… *** Ed woke with a start, The room felt warm and cozy, and a fire was burning in the grate. A tall pedestal lamp stood at the end of the sofa, casting an inviting and soothing light. Ed felt no pain in his side. A small boy was standing before him.

Everywhere around me was silent but I felt like someone was watching me and it made goosebumps appear on my skin. I rubbed my hands along the length of my arm to get rid of the goosebumps but they won’t go away. The eyes on me were creepy even though I could not see it or the person. It felt like something was crawling up my body and it was making me shudder in shock. I wanted to call Nathan but I didn’t want to look like a fool if they didn’t find anyone lurking around the property so I decided to shake it off as a figment of my imagination.

Theo's chest rose and fell in a peaceful rhythm, his small hand clutching his favorite stuffed bear tightly. "Mama, tell me a story," Theo whispered, his eyes fluttering open for a brief moment. Mama Hazel smiled, her voice soft and soothing as she began to weave a tale of magical lands and brave adventurers. Theo's eyes sparkled with wonder, his imagination taking flight as he listened intently to every word. Together, they journeyed through enchanted forests, crossed vast oceans, and braved mighty dragons. Theo's laughter filled the room, his tiny hands gesturing animatedly as he played out the scenes in his mind.