Horror Anthology Novels & Stories

“Yes, horror is the only modern genre that’s as fatalistic as classical tragedy. But one is considered by critics to be the pinnacle of fiction and the other is considered the nadir.” “You know you get the cutest little furrow in your brow when you get all serious.” “Blow me,” said Sam chucking a zippo at Jimmy’s head. “Only if you furrow your brow for me.” Jimmy took a hit from the bong and said, “You’ve thought quite a bit about this haven’t you?” “Yeah, I have. It means something y’know. The ancients used mythology as a way of exploring a lot of important, unspoken things about their lives. The closest thing we have to that is horror, it’s our way of exploring the unspoken matters in life

“No doubt.” “What about those two small FedEx boxes?” “Most recent novels from Samhain Horror.” “Awesome. Those books I bought at the Webb County Library sale last week?” “Sorted into general and mystery fiction. Struck the mother lode with all those Mary Higgins Clark novels.” “We cater to all tastes, miss. Unless you like Twilight, 50 Shades of Gray or James Patterson. Folks want drivel, they can drive to Utica.” “Hey. I actually liked Twilight. It wasn’t all bad.”

I was glad I won’t stand out too much. We arrive at Xander’s house after a few minutes. His house was more of a dark side kind of house. It was gothic and gave you the creeps. Old cold men stood as statues lining up the way to the front door. Music thumped inside the house. It felt like a high school monster party. Okay maybe I watch too much Ant farm and paranormal movies. This would be a good beginning for a horror story where Zombies come attacking. No, zombies don’t have brains to plot this. Better yet, Vampires.

I wasn’t entirely sure how to respond to Lucas’ words. I just watched in horror as the scene in front of me. The sight of blood everywhere. I couldn’t figure out what was more disturbing. The dead bodies and blood or the sight of Lucas, who had transformed into some monster.

Another snap echoes, taking her back to the current reality where she opens her eyes to be surprised by the horror of what Alliah is calling, “Welcome to my art gallery. My beautiful art gallery Daniela. A gallery made from human flesh, parts, bones, and their very blood.” Daniela had seen everything of the gore and blood. The darkness and dread, including the hell which doesn’t an inch, scares her. Yet, seeing this place, hearing Alliah’s maniacal laughter while dancing in front of her, and the stench of fresh and dried blood. The corpses that were all arranged horrifically, it is a total red flag.

I walked to the ocean and kept a safe distance from the water, I sighed at the view of the river, a huge wave rose from afar and it looked so big like it was going to swallow me up. It looked too big than usual, I jerked up and took 9 steps back, but something was off about this wave, why was it like this?, Kind of unreal, too big to be real, wierd color, like an illusion. Or maybe it's my hallucinations, I paused and just like I thought, it was just like a shadow, it went away in a blink, and it kinda felt cool, I sat on the sand and smiled. But suddenly like a miracle, the whole place turned dark, and I couldn't see nothing, I turned to the left, right, forward and backwards but I couldn't

Her eyes remain on the field as she speaks. Shit. “Let me guess, he’s too scared to face it himself?” Depending on what it is, I might be too scared to face it too. I’ve already had a run with three demons, a banshee, two cult members, being thrown into a coffin with a rotting skeleton inside still, and the worst one of all...Greyson. Walking into a corn field just feels as if I’m asking for it...for something bad to happen. “It’ll be fine.” Carden interjects. Is he trying to calm me? Does he think I’m scared of corn?

They were images of blackened houses, broken bodies, and trembling survivors murmuring in fear. “They said they saw… shadows with horns,” Eden whispered. “They said the shadows walked through fire and didn’t burn. They tore through flesh like paper. One old man said he saw a child disappear in the blink of an eye. There was no blood. No scream. Just… gone.” Sophia paled. Her fingers trembled as she reached into the folds of her robe and pulled out a tattered, leather-bound grimoire. She flipped the pages quickly. “I’ve read this before,” she muttered,. “Long ago. When I was a child. The signs… horned shadows, vanishing people, soulless fire. It’s not mortal.”

I turned and saw Harmony halfway up the ladder to my bed, half of her body crawling under my mosquito net. Her expression was grotesquely exaggerated, filled with fear as she stared at me. I let out a terrified scream and jumped upright from my bed in shock. The following scream came from Harmony, louder than mine, and then there was a crash as she fell off my bed, landing hard on the floor.

The Rennar symbol. She snatched the key. The metal was cold. Without a backward glance, she fled. The Rennar library was a tomb of forgotten truths. She went straight to a section blocked by a frayed red rope. The Forbidden Collection. She found it: Instinct and Transformation: Observations on the Lycanthrope. She carried the heavy tome to a table, her heart pounding a frantic rhythm against her ribs. The pages crackled with age. She skimmed past charts of moon cycles and dietary notes until her eyes found a heading that stopped her breath.