Horror Book Pagemaster Novels & Stories

The books here were faintly covered in dust. As he reached out to the top shelf, his eyes fell on a familiar thick black book lying on the floor. The Art Of The Body. Before he could stop himself, his eyes flicked up and locked with Scarlett. She didn't look away, but a deep blush gradually spread across her cheeks. That book brought back memories, and for a moment, he forgot the unspoken tension between them. He looked away finally and pulled out several dusty books from the shelf. Two were about old werewolves, one about vampires, and the last one was about witches.

The air smelled clean, the lights warm, the shelves tall and perfect. “Choose the book that pulls you,” the woman said. “It will tell you what you need.” She vanished into the shadows. I walked along the shelves. My hand stopped on one book, not because I liked it, but because something in me reacted. A strange pull. The title was old, written in faded ink:” The Nature of the Cursed: shifters of the Moon.” My fingers trembled as I opened it. Inside were sketches, human shadows twisted into wolves, claws emerging from the hands, glowing eyes in the darkness. I swallowed hard.

Yesterday had gone well, but there’d been a moment where it was touch and go and my blood runs cold every time I think about what could have happened if I lost control and the mages got their powers back. “What’s wrong?” Soren finally asks with a small frown. I’ve been pacing like a caged tiger and he’s been very patiently trying to ignore me while attempting to read. Hilda found the book in the huge library Arlo’s pack has tucked away in an underground fortress and tasked him with checking whether it contains anything useful. Apparently we’re not the first werewolves to have a run-in with mages. The book is titled: Illusions and How to Dispel them. So far it hasn’t offered up anything of pr

Old, witch-begotten. My hands trembled as I pulled it free. It was heavier than I expected, and colder too—as if it had a life of its own. I placed it carefully on the reading table, brushing off heavy layers of grime with my sleeve. The cover was plain of title, bearing only a carved serpent entwined around a crescent moon. My heart skipped. This wasn't just a book. This was sacred. or demonic. I opened the first page. "Let the darkness be born in blood. Let the son of the accursed bloodline rise out of the ashes of the slain witches. His mate will bleed, and from her womb will come salvation… or destruction."

I'd been reading it a lot lately, desperate to find answers. I flipped through the pages, noticing something odd for the first time. A page was missing. Ripped out, to be exact. I blinked hard, bringing the inside spine of the book closer so I could properly inspect. I hadn't been seeing things. The paper left on the page was uneven, an indication that someone had torn a page out. Why would someone do that? I scanned the surrounding pages, trying to make sense of the missing section. It seemed to be a crucial part of the book, detailing werewolf lore, ancient rituals and witch potions.

The master has not been seen frequently since his return, he must be tired from the war. I took the book along with me. I greeted Fred when I got to the door and he smiled at me. I found it weird but I said nothing about it. I pushed the food cart into his room. His room was not as I expected,it just had regular furniture in it and I didn't see any torturing device so I guess I am safe,I have the strangest imagination I know that. I served him at the table in front of him. I bought the book. "Master, I'm done with it," I said .

They were self-explanatory, and she would be able to tell which part of the book was most promising. She flipped through until she reached the back of the book with the cautionary tales. She skipped over the first one about Lysander, and the next few didn't seem promising either. Story after story passed by, and she was about to give up and read it closely for hints . . . until the very last section. Her fingers froze, her breath caught in her chest, and horror coursed through her veins as she read the title of the section: 'Blood Magic and the Creation of the Vampire-Human Child'

In anger and rage, his eyes turned completely red and he disappeared from everyone's sight with the speed of light. "Have you found that thing for which you came here?" Moroi Ace Denzell stood behind Ms. Anastasia and said in a low voice, "It's very rude. Don't steal like this when the family is not in the house. Very bad manners." Hearing his voice, Ms. Anastasia got scared, and the book fell from her hands. "Hey, you are faster than I thought," he picked up the book that fell on the ground and read the name of the book in a loud voice. "Exorcism: Eldritch Werewolves by Witch Rosaline."

Period. But a vampire? They just apparently deteriorate into a sack of flesh and then bones after long enough. I was stupid enough to look it up online and instantly regretted it. When I hear the doorknob rattle, it's all I do all I can to get my shit together. KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK “Grandma!! Grandma’s here,” Gage shouts, as I lift my head from one wall, and take two steps back to lean it against another.

She felt as if she were outside of herself, looking down, and she became more and more confused. She read. And read. And read. Finally, it hit her like a lightning bolt: this book, it was hers. Her journal. The journal of a teenage girl. A story of coming of age. Of going back in time. Of falling in love with a man named Caleb. Of having a daughter named Scarlet. Of becoming a vampire. She wondered if she were losing her mind. Was this some sort of practical joke? Some sort of fantasy she’d had as a young girl? What was it doing here? How did her grandmother have it? And why was she only drawn to open it now, at this time?