Novel & Cerita Horror Anthology

They emerge from a hole in the ground, a dark and menacing opening that seems to be the very gate to the underworld. The Drider, an equally terrifying entity, accompanies them. Its appearance is a grotesque blend of spider and humanoid, with a body covered in dark hair and long, sharp legs that creak with every movement. Its eyes, a bloody red, reflect pure malice and an insatiable thirst for power. Together, Drider and the Skinning of the mind are the embodiment of horror, a sight that could chill the bravest of souls to the bone.

They approached the apartment door cautiously, then slowly stepped out, partially closing the broken door behind them, leaving a small gap through which the dim light of the entrance filtered in, as if the apartment itself had refused to close completely, guarding its dark secrets, waiting for the next intruder to venture into the depths of the shadows. The air escaping from the apartment was heavy and thick with the scent of ancient horror and blood, and the long-standing silence. Every step they took on the rough hallway floor resonated like the pulse of another world, a world hidden within walls and shadows, watching them with the cunning of the patient, testing their fear, gauging their

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.

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…

This shadow, this darkness with fangs, it had the power to stipulate how they dreamed and that made him crazy with need to blow the creature’s head off. “This is a local legend about nightmares, a satanic sorcerer, and black magic. It is titled as Shadows and Blood, and is 50 years old. Folklore, through songs and words and this guy had recorded it down, a little and a lot of his own story.” She looked at the book, biting her lips, forehead crinkling in concentration. “Sound gory and ancient and I have never heard of this.” Art said as he struggled to open his tired eyes. It burned from the lack of sleep. Aurora looked tired as well, but she was dogged to finish the book, to find anything mo

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

It was so liberating for him, that little by little and without realizing it, he began to shout it. "I am not a monster! I am not a monster!" He was screaming, louder and louder. Convinced for some strange reason that he was not a freak. Jonah ran out of his house and screamed that he was not a monster. He was running so fast that he had to hold Alma's head in his hand so that it wouldn't bother him. The people who saw him pass by looked at him strangely, his presence provoking disgust. But the children were afraid to see him. They wondered in their innocent little minds who was that strange little man, who possessed the color of the night and carried on his shoulder a strange head?

My heart is furiously beating as I type the word nonhuman. Many articles pop up so I just click on the first one. There are so many definitions. Sirens,witches, vampires , demons and yes, Angels are there too. Apparently the term is used to describe people who are not exactly humans, people with unusual gifts or powers. The following article says nonhumans are just a myth and that no such thing exists. One says they were real during the eighteenth century but we're destroyed and are now extinct. I keep on reading and even click on the images. The images are a bit scary and definitely not human. The thought that I could be one of those things is more than scary.

I was too curious to remember that I was supposed to be unconscious. As soon as we made it to the ring, we saw the many, many fans all looking shocked, horrified, excited, and downright terrified. Soon I found out why as well. Haydon was standing over a dead Troll. His long-elongated claws and fangs were covered in thick blood. His eyes were bright red instead of hazel. He had this rabid look. I could hardly even recognise him. Honestly, he looked like one of those vampire-monsters that you would see in those horror movies...only Haydon looked even more attractive in this state... That was not the point though.

In dedication to Born By Power is a series of poem fixed within chapters of the book. The first was relating to Chaos And Apocalypse, which pretty much revealed a lot about the uprise of hell. This is the second and is themed on the horrific nature of Halloween and written with relativeness to hell. What does this hold to unviel? Who knows. Screams of Halloween Halloween, Halloween, Soft screams of blood chime, The period of dark, The day of ghouls, demons and imps,