Horror Anthology Novels & Stories

To the blood on my thighs. His eyes widen. He steps back. Just one step. His gaze is still on the blood. For a moment, I see something like regret cross his face. Then it's gone. "Fuck," he breathes. "You're—" "A virgin," I say flatly. "Surprised?" He stares at me. I stare back. The air between us is thick with something I can't name—not just lust, not just obsession. Something else. Something that feels dangerously like understanding.

Like I was shopping for bedtime stories instead of trying to decide whether my life had cracked open into impossibility. “Thank you,” I murmured. The folklore section was tucked into a quiet corner near a window that looked out toward the forest. Of course it did. The books there were a strange little army: weathered hardcovers, thin local history pamphlets, glossy paperbacks with titles involving moons and curses and women who looked poorly dressed for weather. I started with the serious looking ones. Northern Appalachian Folk Beliefs, Predator Myths of the American East, Silver, Salt, and Blood: Ritual Materials in Regional Lore. I pulled them down one by one, making a stack against my che

The attic of the old Victorian in Salem smelled of cedar, dried sage, and the sharp metallic bite of charged mercury. Moonlight poured through the tall, arched window in pale shafts, catching on the salt-and-chalk circle etched into the wide-plank floorboards. At its center stood Rowan Hale, twenty-nine, barefoot, wearing only a sheer black slip that clung to her full breasts and wide hips, the silk so thin her dark nipples showed through. Her locs hung loose down her back, threaded with tiny silver beads that glinted like stars. In her left hand she held an obsidian athame; in her right, a small copper bowl filled with her own blood, crushed night-blooming jasmine, and powdered star-anise.

His thumb pressed into the hollow of my throat. He could feel my pulse race. I was so sure of it. We were silent for a while but he didn't let go of me. He just stood, naked, and studying me to see if a lie would cross my face. After a long moment, he tilted his head. “You're telling the truth”. He said it was like a verdict but he didn't drop the knife. “This apartment belongs to Viktor Volkov. The contract killer. The man they call the Ghost of the Eastern Bloc”.

She shrugged, a little awkwardly. I smiled back, wanting to put her at ease. “Thank you, Sie. I really appreciate it.” We flicked through some new books and papers while we waited for the pizza to arrive. They were all much the same – long, winding documentation of vampire sightings from the Victorian era, many of which were clearly allegories for something else, like impudent women or the fear of industrialisation.

I apologize. But for those who like it, don't forget to check my other book. I also have a new ongoing one (PULSE: A CONTRACT WITH DAMIEN.) A seven in one book. Let's give you a sneak peek shall we? Vampires -Death. Fae's - Darkness. Demons - Agony. Werewolves - Curse. Humans - Fear. Witches/ Warlocks/ and Beasts - Dark magic. DOOM(HELL) - ALL. ALL THE SPECIES AND THEIR TRIBULATIONS.

The heading glaring back at me filled me with unease and curiosity. ‘The Anthology of The Deimos Curse & The Prophecy of Light and Darkness’

Fuming silently, she went back to the search bar and typed creatures with horns and golden eyes, and the results were as implausible as the first. Rolling her eyes, she went and added ‘that resembles vampires’ in her current search, and the next thing she knew, she’d been directed to an article with an interesting read. *** CROSS SPECIES OF THE NIGHT … the creatures of the night roots back to ancient times and had found themselves impure…

"Yes, Antonia. The Craon was surprised to see the great God and Goddess in his little abode so he gladly brought them in, offered them drinks, and asked what brought them. They told it that they want it to guide the cage of your father and the Craon gladly accepted cause all that mattered to it was that he was going to live in the sea once more. But to hide the truth from all so that the beings won't know that the Craon is back they caged your father in the deserted sea. The sea till ten years to come will always be the most dangerous sea one can ever see. I can take you to the sea Antonia, yes I can. But before then you have to make a journey to the only females that can give you a portion

I apologize that this book is really short with less than 30k words in all. I plan to edit it at some point and make it better. I figured that a really long Horror book might be less interesting and would just seem drawn out. I've not read a lot of them but I watch horror movies so I wrote this like I would picture an Horror movie. I appreciate all those who stuck with me and read Reincarnation regardless. Thank you all. After saying this, I would love and appreciate your feedbacks and things to watch out for when I do edit the book. It would be really helpful and appreciated. Bonus scene ideas too would be great. Thanks once again.