Haunted House Books Novels & Stories

And find out if there was any way to fix it. As she drove, Caitlin thought again of the rare books she had found in her library. Most of all, she that of that one rare volume, and its torn page. She thought of its ancient ceremony, the one in Latin, with its cure for vampirism. She wondered again if it was real. Was that just passed down from folklore? An old wives’ tale?

A couple of days passed quietly enough. In Cynthia’s personal opinion, it was a little too quiet.. No more marching footsteps in the hall, or lights flickering in the kitchen, or Brian’s old bedroom door opening and closing by itself. Worst of all, neither Saon or Elizabeth sat with her when Jeremy was with her. It was odd, Cynthia realized, how comfortable she had gotten with the ghosts around her. And how much safer they made her feel if she felt or saw or heard them around the house.

Finally, she found the one she was looking for. Layla managed to grab the book and add it to her stack in her arms when her eyes caught sight of something. A book stood out among the rest. It was bound with dark brown leather and had brandished designs on the spine. The title read - Malleus Vampiro: A Treatise on Vampires. Placing her other books on the floor, Layla pulled the leather-bound book from its home amongst the others and opened it. As her eyes skimmed the pages, she caught a couple of words; SHADOW STALKERS, BLOODSUCKER, PHANTOMS.

Elliot could see clearly under the night vision lens. The haunted house scene was eerie and terrifying, with peeling paint on the walls, giving the impression of an abandoned and sinister dwelling. Dried bloodstains adorned the floor and walls, cobwebs clung to corners, and cotton-like fluff floated in the wind. Piles of white bones and skulls were scattered about, occasionally accompanied by the eerie cries and howls of ghosts. Sophia tightly gripped Chase. Her face was pale, revealing her intense fear.

"Emma went out to meet a client today. Could it be her in the elevator?" Anna's face went completely pale. "Oh my God. I was already joking with her about being wrapped up like a burrito. She's only been here a month. This is too horrible." Seeing the blood on the floor, others gasped in shock. "She just graduated from grad school. So young, and already…" "She was a little strange at first, but she was a good person. How could something like this happen to her?" The murmurs grew louder, filled with stunned disbelief and sorrow.

Georgia - The silence in the cellar wasn’t real. It was alive—a cunning, creeping thing that licked at the walls like a living thing, testing for weakness. It wanted me to believe I was alone. That nothing existed beyond these damp stone walls and the single, rusted lock keeping me in this rectangular purgatory. But silence, like most everything else in this house, was a liar. If you were patient—if you sat in the darkness long enough, let your breathing slow to almost nothing, let your heartbeat settle into the rhythm of the dying—you would hear them.

Elias pulled his hand away fast, leaving me aching and empty. I yanked my sweater down and pressed my back harder against the shelf, trying to steady my breathing. My heart hammered like it wanted out of my chest. “Stay right there, Lila,” he whispered. His voice was low, tense. I heard him move carefully through the dark, footsteps quiet on the tile. Another crash echoed from somewhere deeper in the stacks. Like something knocking over a small pile of books. I held my breath. Elias stopped moving.

But this was not what Caitlin wanted: she needed to heal Scarlet, not kill her. As she finished yet another book and slid it aside, with still no mention of healing anywhere, she began to feel a sense of despair. She lifted the final book on the stack, a small, leather-bound volume with a red spine, entitled De Fascino Libri Tres by Leonardo Vairo. Caitlin summoned her knowledge of Latin, and knew that translated to: Three Books of Charms, Spells and Sorceries.

Sitting at her desk in the ordinary afternoon light crying at an email from a small press that wanted to publish a book about women who had been consumed by a haunted house on a hill. She wiped her face. "Come home," she said. "We're celebrating." "I'm already on my way," he said. She looked at the email again. At Margaret's name in the first line of the synopsis she had sent. At Clara's. At Patricia's. At all of them. Given back. Finally properly given back. That evening they celebrated. Liam came through the door with a bottle of decent wine and takeaway from the Indian place she loved. Evelyn had already lit the candles they almost never used and put on the old playlist they’d made during

The remnants of someone’s bedroom that was long forgotten about crashed around us. We screamed in terror. I was beginning to fear the house was going to fall down on us. We continued to hear the sound of slamming and fighting happening through the house. I was clawing at everything to try and find an escape. Out of nowhere, a book dropped in my lap. It was old. It looked like it used to be cream colored with purple lace. This matches Gabrielle’s style. I saw a key lock. Suddenly, a key dropped from the binding of the book. It was a diary of some kind. I think Gabrielle’s spirit or someone wants me to have this. I shoved it into my bag and peaked out the door. I could tell it was still not s