Gothic Novels & Stories

It was fucking terrible. As I left the lights behind, the buildings grew tall enough to block any moonlight. The darkness closed in. My eyes darted from every nook and cranny expecting... well I don't know what, to jump out, but something scary. It could be a bad guy or a vampire, or hell a wendiego. An image of a slender white body with a mouthful of pointed teeth plagued my mind. My throat tightened. I could feel that fear surging through me again.

She said, smiling and looking into his ocean blue eyes. Ichabod managed a smile, they were looking at each other and he could see the way she was looking at him…he knew that look. Denis had that hungry look on her face on the night of her wedding…then he felt…wow, was that her hand on his laps? His heart was racing so fast and his palm was sweaty….he could see her parted lips, he knew what this meant. He drew closer to her, so close that he could feel her breath over his face… he could perceive the delicious smell of the alcoholic wine in the scent of her breath, both their hearts were beating simultaneously as if they were both part of a puzzle…she closed her eyes…just as he parted his own

I stepped out into the fresh air prepared to be auctioned at an al fresco estate sale. The well-spanned mansion rose in front of us like it was carved out of God’s worst mood—dark stone, sharp edges, windows shaped like watchful eyes. It looked like a place Dracula would retire to - stone columns, gargoyles on the roof, and a heavy vibe of ‘trespassers are buried in the back yard.’ It had a lot of forest sprawling behind the finely cut lawn, and a neat drive that lead to the stone stairs.

THE CRIMSON PACK GOTHIC LUNA SOPHIE He still reeked of it. Death. That same clinging scent from before. It hadn’t changed. If anything, it was heavier now—thicker, like rot left to fester in silence. Whatever he’d done back then… it wasn’t natural. And it sure as hell wasn’t something you saw every day. The kind of malice radiating from him wasn’t just sinister—it was unnatural.

The car wound through an iron gate, and then the villa came into view. Emilia sat up straighter, eyebrows lifting. It was nothing like Naples. This place was… darker. Gothic in places. A mansion built not just to impress but to warn.Tall windows reflected the night, their glass blackened, their frames carved with old symbols she couldn’t read. Ivy climbed the stone walls like veins over pale skin, and two lanterns flanked the entrance, flickering against the wind. She stepped out slowly, eyes drinking it in. “You live here?” she murmured.

Death would be preferable. He carries me over his shoulder again. We walk toward a building that you would expect to be owned by vampires. It’s dark, gloomy, and gothic looking. Gargoyles at the corners of what looks like an old castle. The only lights that I can see from inside look red and cruel, like what I’d expect in a low-class brothel. When we walk in, the screams that are coming from somewhere in front of me make my blood run cold. It’s the sound of pain and fear and death. Along with that sound is the sickening sound of lustful grunting, slurping and flesh being ripped apart presumably by sharp teeth.

“The house isn’t creepy.” “Yes, it is,” Owen and Caroline said in unison. Ben dipped his roller back into the paint tray. “It has character.” Caroline hopped down from the stool and wiped paint from her hands. A streak of green smeared across her forehead. “This house has the same amount of character as Amityville.” Ben laughed and stepped closer, lifting the hem of his shirt to wipe the paint from her skin. “My house is not haunted. It just needs some attention.”

Or is this just another cage? ​He didn't answer. He just looked back out the window as we turned onto a private road that wound upward into the mist shrouded hills. ​Blackwood was nothing like the glass and steel penthouse. It was a sprawling, Gothic revival estate made of dark stone and ivy that looked like it had been clawed into the side of the mountain. It looked ancient, imposing, and deeply lonely. As the gates creaked shut behind us, I felt a strange shiver crawl down my spine. This wasn't a home, it was a monument to a legacy that had claimed too many lives already.

“A gothic manor in a murder forest. If something with antlers and glowing eyes eats us, I just want it on record that I object.” His hand lingered at my waist as I slid off his lap, fingers warm and possessive without claiming. “Nothing here will harm you,” he said. Then, softer. “Unless you invite it.” The hatch opened. Cold air poured in—damp earth, moss, metal. Lightning air. The kind that prickled at my skin and made the gold beneath it stir, restless. The manor revealed itself slowly, like it knew anticipation mattered. Grey stone. Arched windows. Ivy crawling across walls carved with symbols I didn’t consciously recognize—yet something in my bones did. T

"Stay in the car, Stefan. It's a command this time" "Yes boss" he bowed lowly and went towards the car's direction. In turn, I turned and walked into the house through the large doors. Igor's house is majestic and that isn't something I'll deny. He likes all things fancy and gold. As I walked by, I saw two golden caskets right there, with a book in front of them. I walked closer to make sure the bodies were in there and just not a prank of Igor's. Before I got so close to the caskets, I could see the young boys' bodies, lying stiff. I turned and left, since I had nothing to write.