Horror Bedtime Stories Novels & Stories

His parents attended an important dinner function at the Moonstar Hotel by the Bay View Area and they told them that they might come home late. A slight breeze blew from the West. Old folks used to tell in their bedtime stories by the fireplace that this is an ominous sign. They say that vile creatures hunt for their prey during these times. Mark knew all about this since he is an avid fan of mystery-horror stories. Yet he told himself a thousand times that evening these are just figments of his wild imagination. Nothing horrible is going to befall his parents. They are both good souls and God is watching over them from above.

I darted my eyes away quickly-- "You promised," Al said all of a sudden. "What?" I paused in surprise. "No question asked," Al smirked, holding out his hand to me. I was grateful that he didn't ask into it. Night fell. So the thing about horror stories is that-- The fear kicks in only at dark nights when you are alone, not when you are at the crowded theater or on the bright street. Meaning-- I couldn't fall asleep that night. Turns out it's a bit hard to fall asleep when you don't close your eyes because you feel the need to stare at everything with alert.

As he finished with his words, I sat down quickly and quietly. The sorcerer gave me his last words before he went into his medication again, 'don't go out and close all windows and the door during twilight. Hewent into his meditation again. He didn't shake for several hours. It was twilight around 7p.m of a day. The sorcerer didn't move and I admitted he has fallen asleep. That sentence attached to Tortuga, 'where no man see dark' got me so curious that I left a window opened to see what will happen outside, whether there would be ghost or a giant monster to feed on whover goes out, I was so desperate and can't wait.

The little girl in the bed giggled as her father tickled her Adam Hale was alive and well and was sitting at the side of his daughter's bed, he kissed her forehead and tucked her into the princess pink blankets and got up to turn off the lights. “One more story daddy please” The little girl whimpered. Adam just smirked looking at his daughter and tried to con him into telling her another scary story. “Nice try, that was the eighth story that I told you since I came into your room an hour ago. Now go to bed little one, I love you.”

Safe and hidden from the monster who kills and forces me to be a cannibal. I finish cleaning and tuck myself into my closet about an hour before the bedroom door opens. I keep my breathing shallow as I listen to the footsteps, but something tells me it isn't the monster this time. The something is the clicking of heels hitting the floor instead of flat shoes. Curiosity begins to stir within me, but I keep myself still. I don't want to make anyone mad. All the animals in this house are dangerous. "What are you doing here," the monster growls, and I cringe within my dark closet.

After two days of high temperatures and intense boredom, he remembered the three books. Sam pulled out the one with the Mummy on the cover, because it looked the most innocuous. It was entitled the Ninth Pan Book of Horror Stories. He wasn’t the least bit prepared for what he found inside. The first three stories involved emasculation, murder and burning at the stake. In his fevered state Sam felt he was not only watching the characters’ suffering, he was experiencing it along with them. He flung the book at the wall and then hid it again, wishing he could burn it like Jinnot, the young girl in the third story who was burned alive.

Just as he approached a room’s doorway, he heard Tina and Kara’s conversation drifting from inside the room. “Tonight’s bedtime story is called ‘Tadpoles Searching for Their Mommy.’ The warm spring is here… A bunch of little tadpoles want to look for their mommy… After overcoming all the obstacles, the little tadpoles finally found their froggy mommy. Together, they lived happily ever after…” Tina’s tone was gentle as she read the bedtime story out loud from the storybook to her daughter. Kara lay in her arms, her heavy eyelids already glued together. She struggled to say, “The little tadpoles are very pitiful… I won’t be separated from you, Mommy… Even if we do get separated, I’ll find you

And on moonlit nights, when the wind carried whispers through the trees, the children would huddle close to their parents, grateful for the lessons learned from the chilling tale. And so, dear children, remember the story of 'The Whispering Shadows' when the moon is high and the wind carries secrets on its breath. For even the naughtiest of children may find themselves facing the eerie dance of shadows in the depths of the forest, a fate they can only escape by heeding the warnings of those who came before.

The sounds of the night—crickets chirping, owls hooting, and leaves rustling—seemed to harmonize with his words, creating an eerie ambiance that sent tingles down my spine. One by one, the pack members took turns sharing their ghost stories. Each tale was filled with chilling twists and turns, evoking gasps and laughter from the listeners. As the stories got scarier, I noticed a few of the younger pack members huddling closer to their parents, seeking comfort and reassurance.

Then he dialed a certain number. "Clemt, is your mom's shaman acquaintance good?" “Ugh… damn it, dude. It's 1 AM! 1 AM!” Tut. tut tut tut- That night, Havi had trouble sleeping. Let alone sleep, he didn't want to close his eyes. Because when he closed his eyes, the image of a scary creature with long hair covering her body that he had met in the basement appeared. He looked up at the ceiling with his hands crossed and his mouth mumbled, cursing whatever had made his night so tiring.