Halloween: A Novel Novels & Stories

See? This was such a beautifully yet tear-jerking novel I have ever successfully crafted an idea with, a few months ago. But after I have encountered all the horrible occurrences for the past months, I came back to work and turned this sad and romantic novel into a mystery and horror novel, which made all my work colleagues and supervisor absolutely petrified. They have no idea that I was even more shocked and horrified when I have suddenly realized that my novel had suddenly become so dark and twisted. It was beautifully written, like a psychopath has written a novel for the very first time.

Crowburn. The town is said to have been built right above hell itself. "There is a myth about this town that every 100 years on Halloween night, demons from the very pits of hell come up to the earth and roam the streets, blending into the disguised populous searching for the perfect bride for their Prince. The Prince of Darkness himself. It is believed that the women die as they are never seen again, and every year, the demons return for more women." the woman speaking, my grandma pursed, taking a sip of water before continuing.

I only hope I don't have to be murdered in order for that to happen. Arlo drives me home and the moon follows us. I hate Halloween, what used to be costumes and fun. Is now fear, panic, and an asshole laughing in a Haunted House. Nothing is scarier than this Halloween. As Arlo squeezes my hand, I know I can face the demons and ghosts of tonight with him by my side. To make sure its not in my head, I squeeze his hand and he squeezes mine a little tighter bringing a little bit of happiness back with it.

Any resemblance to actual person, living or dead, or actual events are purely coincidental. This book may not reproduced in any material form or transmitted to any persons without the permission of the author. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- It contains the otherworldly imaginations of the author about zombie apocalypse, magical illusions and over-exaggerated scenes that may not suitable to your taste. The plots of indirect discrimination may trigger your annoyance but it is just purely for entertainment purpose. Novelcat : https://www.novel-cat.com/bookDetail/13580755020

I made my way between the cars towards the back of the building. “You know this is a special night, don’t you?” Wisps of fake fog curled and puffed off the stage as he strutted back and forth. “Halloween. All Hallows? I can tell ya it means a lot more than just stuffing fun-size Snickers in your face. Tonight’s the night the world of the dead overlaps with the world of the living. That means if you’re ever going to see a ghost, tonight’s your night!

It pulses once, like a heartbeat. I swallow hard. Strange things have always happened when I’m upset, lights flickering, books falling, dreams that feel too real, but this feels different. Like the pendant is reacting to something out there. Or calling to it. The fog thins as we turn onto a narrow road lined with lanterns shaped like pumpkins. They sway even though there’s no wind. “Hallow’s Edge goes all out for Halloween,” Ms. Carter says cheerfully. “Biggest festival in the county. You’ll be here just in time.”

For this town is special, and its citizens terrifying. Mrs. Hagatha Belfry stepped out of her front door and onto the porch with a cup of tea in hand. Throughout the town, even though it was winter and snowy in the surrounding wood, autumn leaves sprouted from every limb of every branch of every tree, and the fallen leaves were replaced by new leaves overnight. Lilith’s Hollow is graced by the autumn season all year round, thanks to a witch’s spell from one who lived in town long before Mrs. Belfry’s centuries of residency there. After all, this was the town that Halloween built. Mrs. Belfry, along with all of the werewolves, zombies, mad doctors, monsters, ogres, and more mythical creatures

Too fucking bizarre to even contemplate, to even have been real. Still, it was funny, how the thin giant’s head didn’t seem nearly as large and monstrous tonight as it had when they were younger. There were other Halloween decorations on display along Brazier Drive, amid these sleeping Houses of the Holy. Richard noticed some window-cling mummies, and a bedsheet ghost in the trees. An autumn-harvest scarecrow with a pair of dullish orange pumpkins (whose fleshy insides must be turning to stringy, seeded mush with the warm September days) sat on the porch stoop next door.

Before they can even pull the trigger on him he already ripped their hearts out leaving them there to die and for the vulture to clear and wild animals to clears his mess. Ever since the governments of these countries realized what kind of monster he is, Halloween was canceled all over the world, until November 2008 rumors went round that Harold Jankinsteins was dead but his body was never found. Two years later Halloween returned with the main reason why it was created, to celebrate Samhain.

Before I could pull one out, though, I heard a knock at my door. I spun towards the door, accidentally tipping over the ink bottle. I thought nothing of it; the ink had never spilled before. Even so, I decided to turn back and pick it up. Which is when I noticed that the ink had somehow spilled, and not only that, but it spilled right onto my finished manuscript, 1001 Dark Tales. I sat there staring for a second, completely forgetting about the knock on the door. Nothing happened, though, and relief instantly filled me.