Horror Academia Novels & Stories

With superhearings, everything seemed to be at your ear's disposal. "Welcome back, Vesper," Rosemary, one of the Restaurant's waiters, grinned. She moved in for a hug, which I accepted, and then her eyes flickered to Kelani. Rose was a werewolf as well. In fact, she was one of the alumni of the academy. Many of the students in the academy had nowhere else to go after finishing their studies. They were orphans or just abandoned kids by their parents after the latter realized they had special abilities. So, the Academy had made a special spot for those and anyone who intended to stay instead of going to the real world to explore other possibilities.

“Were these any help, detective?” “I’m afraid not,” I said, defeated. I was in a bit of a daze after staring at projected newsprint on the dim screen. I leaned on the desk and looked around the building absentmindedly until my eyes finally settled on a small sign hanging on a table covered with a neat stack of books. “Warning: The Library is Not Responsible for Nightmares!” I read out loud, walking over to look at the books. Well-worn volumes with pink skulls grinning back at me from stickers on their spines. Dracula. Frankenstein. The Invisible Man.

The lady swayed the floating book in front of her and stared directly at him, "Once again, you did not make an effort to be back at the palace on time. You were involved in a death case, and even though you were proven innocent, you are now under the Academia's radar which is undesirable for both of us in every possible ways. When all's said and done, this is the sanction you and I have agreed to execute should you commit any type of misconduct, am I being understood?" "Y-Yes,” he surrendered. "Here it is . . read this page now — without putting those books down, if you’d be so kind.” Her newly opened book turned into Tristan’s sweaty and fatigued face. “This is a compilation of unsolved mys

Anxiety replaced the fear that I had earlier as I thought about how the students at the school would treat me. ‘’Mind you, there are not only wolves there, it is an academy for supernaturals including Vampires, Witches, Wizards, Dragons, Mermaids and the rest. So, take this opportunity seriously, if I hear any bad report about you, I will withdraw immediately and make sure that you work thrice as you did here, am I understood?’’ ‘’Yes sir, thank you sir, I promise I won’t fail you.’’ I gave him my words.

screamed Anthony, terrified, “you need to see this.” Hansly and Dmitri ran to a room around the corner of the hallway to see the rest of the men gathered inside a large study. It was the smell that caught Dmitri first. A thick, unbreathable stench of death filled his nostrils which closed his throat and his eyes stung. He made his way into the study and knew that this memory would be burnt into his brain for as long as he breathed. Headless torsos stripped of most of their flesh hung on the walls along with decaying arms, legs and heads like trophies, paintings made with blood glued to the walls and even photographs of Werewolves, Vampires, Witches and other supernatural beings being torture

Two literal monsters claiming me like I was a prize in a twisted auction after Riven’s madness display a few minutes ago. I just stared, throat tight, magic prickling, heart pounding, brain screaming... What the fuck kind of twisted academy is this?!

Now he stood before me as a leader, a near-stranger whose presence was both intimidating and strangely familiar. He started walking without a word, and I quickly followed, trying to keep pace with his long strides. We left the library and entered a long, open-air corridor. The academy was a breathtaking sight at night. On one side, I could hear distant howling, which I guessed came from the Luneris dorms. On the other, a profound silence came from a dark, gothic-style wing *Noxtera*, home of the vampires. The silence between us stretched, becoming heavy. I had to say something, anything.

The Hunger — POV Time, as mortals measure it, resumed its illusion. For me, there was only sequencing. I mapped the academy the way one maps a circulatory system—not by walls or wards, but by pressure points. Where ambition pooled. Where resentment coagulated. Where fear thinned the barrier between restraint and action. The academy believed itself fortified. Stone remembers otherwise. I brushed the outer layers of its consciousness—not touching wards directly, not challenging their geometry. That would have been crude. Obvious. Instead, I traced the assumptions beneath them.

I drag my feet across the black marble floor toward the most dreaded hallway in the entire university. It’s dimly lit, the only brightness coming from a harsh spotlight aimed directly at the three chairs. This is where students wait for their doom. I take a seat and feel the camera’s gaze lock onto me. I don’t look at it, but I know the red blinking light means I’m being recorded. I know the headmaster is already watching. But he doesn’t call me in—not for another forty-five minutes. He stretches the silence, savoring his power. Letting the fear sink in.

I dragged myself out of bed, my muscles aching from yesterday's beating. The Vampire History classroom was in one of the older parts of the academy. Stone walls covered in tapestries showing bloody battles and dark ceremonies. Rows of wooden desks faced a massive blackboard. About twenty students were already seated—mostly vampires, with a few humans scattered in the back. I took a seat in the last row, trying to make myself invisible.