Gothic I Novels & Stories

Worried about her niece. "Don't worry, Vanessa," replied Sean Alvarez, "I already got the answer to the crime scene and all I have to do is to look for follow-up clues that can support it." Back to Room 307 came Raine. Cornered at the wall. Thinking quickly, she looked for something that might help her to make the beast go away. Seeing a pair of huge books at the shelf, she immediately grabbed it and throw it towards the ghost. Hoping that it'll go away.

I’m a fan of watching horror movies because darkness couldn’t scare the hell out of me. The entire kitchen lit up when I finally found the candle. I went back to the front door of the house to secure the lock before walking upstairs to my grandmother’s old room. The screeching of the door and the smell of my grandmother filled my nose and I couldn’t help but to smile and hug myself.

Because when a stranger knocked at your door in the middle of the night, asking for shelter amidst a crisis, there was simply no excuse to be made. Within that thirty days the butterfly would go through the craziest of cycles, starting as an egg enclosed within a shell that is both impenetrable and fragile. Gian embodies everything she hates about people. He's loud, too energetic, and always loves inserting himself in other people's business. Aera would make him leave if she could, and she tried for days on end. An apartment unit does not have enough room for two people who clash in every way possible. Then that shell would break to let out a creature that was hideous and scary and weird.

And as I move toward him, he takes his eyes and heads to the ground in a low bow. I began to walk into another hallway with him behind me; the one that held my subjects. I hear the fast thud of Augustine's heartbeat, I also hear their heartbeats as well, and I can tell how many they are in the room ahead. My senses kick in. I twitch my nose and my golden eyes flare up in the dark hallway; I detest the smell of Aarde, it is the smell of the Karbouter, also known as the Goblin. I smell it first before the whiff of the Werewolves and vampires runs up my nostrils.

Not the clean, modern kind. A gothic monstrosity arcing out from a craggy cliff—stone slick with perpetual damp, gargoyles hunched along the rails, mouths open in silent howls. Far below, instead of a river, a neon‑flooded city sprawled, skyscrapers clawing at a sky that wasn’t sky at all. Mirrors.

I scowl at it. If Ragnar thinks I'm going to play his game, then he's grossly mistaken. I make way for the bathroom, but my hand brushes over the shelf, knocking a book down. I'm about to pick it up and toss it back in the shelf when I stop, looking at the open page. An image of a hooded man, dressed in a black coat, swinging a scythe in one hand stares back at me. "The tale of the three wolf packs..." I whisper, reading the caption underneath.

"Mommy, I'm setting up Zoe's room! Go get the rabbit-fur rug and the moonstone lampstand from the collection room. I want to put them in her room!" So Zoe was moving in. But it didn't matter. I'd already decided to leave, so it'd just be easier for her to take my place. Seeing me stand there unmoving, Katrina pouted and darted off to the basement on her own. Before long, she returned, wobbling under the weight of the rug. Behind her, the housekeepers carefully carried a large lampstand. The lampstand was made entirely of moonstone, and together with the rug, they were Katrina's favorite treasure. She'd always cherished and guarded them carefully.

A woman dressed head to toe in full gothic glory—all black clothes clinging to her body, jet-black hair falling straight like a curtain, heavy dark eyeliner that could cut glass, deep black lipstick, a chunky silver cross necklace, and knuckle rings that looked like something that came from thanos finger. Hell. She looked like she’d stepped out of a Tim Burton movie. The curly-haired girl pulled her phone back with a proud little smirk. “Trust me, it works. Guys like that — cold, distant — they lose their minds over the gothic vibe. It’s the mystery. The whole ‘don’t touch me I’m dangerous’ energy.”

For a brief moment, he considered running, but the men behind him made it clear that running would be a terrible idea. Paulo stepped aside and gestured toward the entrance. “Go in.” Lewis swallowed hard as he accepted his ill fate. Slowly, he walked inside with the hope that if he attended to the woman on time, he would be able to leave. ***** The inside of the mansion was just as intimidating as the outside. Shining marble floors, high ceilings with diamond chandeliers. The paintings on the walls looked older than the building itself. Also, it smelled expensive. But none of that mattered to Lewis as he was ushered into the hallway.