Horror Book Stories Novels & Stories

The air in the library was thick with the scent of old books and the faint hum of fluorescent lights. Sadile Marconi, her fiery red hair cascading over her shoulders like a river of flames, sat at a secluded table, her green eyes darting between the pages of her textbook and the clock on the wall. The numbers seemed to mock her, ticking away the minutes until her next class, a class she was dangerously close to failing.

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

Maybe that is the reason why I have no problem in communicating even if I don’t talk to people much. ‘This Time I Will Not Love You' This novel sounds so hurting. I think I won’t be interested in this since I have no love life or whatsoever. ‘To The World I Wish…’ ‘Reckoning Love…’ ‘Mystery Caller' ‘Untold Secrets…’ ‘Unfolding Secrets…’ JUST WHY THE HELL DOES IT SOUNDS SO SPOOKY?!?!? “Alright let’s look for other books to read...” I tried to calm myself just to not let me feel the spookiness in the titles of the books I saw. A very interesting book caught my attention. Unlike the others, it was… handwritten.

He was lying face down, and face up, all at once. I live in that house now. I am the village "fixer." And every night, I listen to the scratching beneath the floorboards. I don't fear the ones that crawl. I fear the ones that wait. Because now I know that the most terrifying thing in the world isn't death—it’s a corpse that refuses to close its eyes.

“So there is no reason to be too scared. Just go to his office, knock on the door, and enter. Do not panic, okay?” I took a very deep breath and let it out slowly. I wanted to beg Ella to follow me, but I knew it was a bad idea. I looked at her and tried to smile. “Do not worry about me. I will be fine. See you tomorrow” We hugged quickly and said goodbye. I did not check the time, but I knew my five minutes were almost up. I walked very fast towards Professor Hungs’ office. My heart was beating so loud I could hear it in my ears. My hands were shaking… but that didn't stop my mind from being full of dirty pictures again… God his big hands on my body, his hard cock pushing between my legs

Agatha said briskly. The reality of the situation suddenly sank in. Fear consumed Edwin and his heart threatened to explode in his chest as he rushed to join Tim behind the thick oak tree. “Are you out of your mind?” Tim hissed when his friend skidded next to him. “I think so,” Edwin panted. “I can’t believe any of this is happening. Vampires… witches… this is like some sci-fi nightmare,” Tim complained. “It was supposed to be a simple hunting trip with a few friends.”

Lady Tatya lounged about in her chambers, reading a horror novel. This was one of her favorite genres. She loved the thrills, the twists, the terrifying reality that burst through the pages. But most of all, she loved the creativity. So many ways to die, so many ways to make someone fall on their own sword. Tatya turned the page with such vigor, she almost ripped it. Yes, this was the moment in the story where the characters were cornered and trapped by the monster, the monster that had a million ways to torture them. Skinning, drowning, beheading… all wonderful ways to cause someone’s death.

One time at work I'd even heard a co-worker called me the-Squidward-from-spongebob. Exactly why I hated them. That morning I'd just gotten up and, traditionally, said my good mornings to Sam triple zero eight, then the story stroke up. We were having a conversation of a book I'd just finished reading, 'No, Mr Harry Botter, do not turn me into a witch.' Believe me, it was a real book alright. The author was named Harry Botter, so he was the main character of his novel. Stories like that, what do they call them again? Paranormal stories, they were always fun to read. Partly because they were stupid, other part, they were nonsense. Nothing but ridiculous lies.

I don't even have his number! "Hello? Who's there?" I whispered. It was like a horror movie. The girl in the forest screaming and running for her dear life. Maybe it is Jordan. He is a douchebag but can he pull such a stunt just to scare me? One thing I learned from the horror movies I watch is never to scream and run so I backed away and tried to be in the shade because the moon was up and bright. I don't want to be spotted or watched by who may or may not be my predator.

It feels like something under my chest are about to explode. The surroundings are so blurry and the next thing I knew is my back hit something before darkness subside my consciousness. ### Amira's POV I excitedly scan my newly bought book from the bookstore lately. It's all about paranormal stories. It was so thick as it consists of different paranormal stories. Since I get so tired of reading cliche romance stories, I have tried out reading horror again since I'm fond of it as well. As soon as I opened the first page, it excites me after reading first sentence.