Horror Bookshelf Novels & Stories

I reached for the box, dragging it forward—and the box to its left nudged itself politely aside to make room. I stared. “Okay,” I said to no one. “That’s new.” Crown’s ears flattened. From somewhere near the history aisle, paper shuffled itself. A soft whick-whick, like pages turning without fingers. I rolled my shoulders, set the box on the counter, and told myself I was overtired. That the store had drafts and uneven floors and I had a busy imagination. I turned to the horror section to face a stack of hardcovers that had not been there a second before. The titles lined up in strict alphabetical order. My stomach did a small, mean dip.

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.

He shifts back; putting a seat between us and truly looking horrified. Bibah simply shakes her head at our childish shenanigans and takes a sip of her iced latte, metal straw clinking in the Hydro Flask. “The Awoo Book Club’s pick for this week is H.P Lovecraft.” She pats the voluminous book atop the pile and I notice it’s the library copy of H.P Lovecraft’s Omnibus 3. “I’m so excited to roast his ass.”

I got up from the bed and walked around the room, still no pain, how weird. I noticed the bookshelf and decided to take a look. There were so many books, some with older worn covers and others a bit more newer looking. I picked up a small red book and read the cover ‘A Lycanthropy Reader; WEREWOLVES IN WESTERN CULTURE’. I flicked through the pages and put it back on the shelf, a little too intense for some early morning reading. I picked up another one and read the cover, ‘The Garden of Eden’ by Ernest Hemingway. Not what I expected from a teenage werewolf soon-to-be-Alpha. I put it back and my eyes fell on a really older looking book. I pulled it out and it was big and very heavy. It looked

I place it on the table beside me and reach for the next. ‘Vampyres or Vampires? – An encyclopaedia of fact, fiction and food sources.’ The irony of the blood red lettering and dry humour of the title make me chuckle in spite of the hairs on the back of my neck standing on end. I move to place the heavy book on top of it’s witchy companion and my fingers tingle as they brush something on the back. “What have we here?” yes, I talk to myself on occasion.

From what I hear, they seem to value it very highly. When he finally stops, I also stop at a particularly thick book called Werewolves, Spires, and Shifters: Complete Edition. On the front is a picture of a menacing werewolf ready to devour a human and a human fighting a truly horrible Shifter with a strange spear. I pull it off the rest, hiding it behind me.

The construction had two rooms and both of them allowed a perfect view of the other, it had a double size bed and it was covered in dust a couple of bags on the floor…nothing of big notice with one exception: an empty bookshelf, with the exception of one book. The former trainee policeman grey matter was now working: If the cabin of a former druid was considered a haunted place wouldn’t all books be there? No one walks into haunted houses deliberately even less to take the books, let alone one. Thomas walked to the bookshelf and held in his hand the only remaining tome, it didn’t look as covered in dust as the rest of the items left…someone was here not too long ago and left this behind as a

Countless shelves lined with weathered books and scrolls stretched into the distance, promising untold secrets and forgotten wisdom. They made their way through the labyrinthine aisles, their eyes scanning the titles and searching for any mention of Lycans or black magic. Dust danced in the rays of sunlight that filtered through stained glass windows, lending an ethereal quality to their journey. Finally, they discovered a section dedicated to ancient legends and forbidden knowledge. The books here were wrapped in worn leather, their pages delicate and yellowed with age. Rey's fingers traced the spines until they settled upon a tome titled "The Chronicles of Shadows: Unveiling the Secrets of

Once again, I was in awe of the underworld. The archives were set up like a vast library, similar to the one Belle was obsessed with in Beauty and the Beast. The shelves started six inches off the ground and went until they reached the vaulted ceiling. Each bookcase had ten frames, and the bookcases were lined up side by side from one long wall to the next. Each shelf was lined with leather-bound books; glancing at them; I could tell they were arranged by title and publication date. The titles of the books were written in a language I couldn't decipher. Still, Samael seemed to know what he was doing as he walked to the far right corner of the library, grabbed one book, and then went to the o

They keep law books on the second floor mezzanine, which is potentially the darkest and creepiest area of this place. Once I get to the top of the stairs, I glance down at the piece of paper with the title of the book on. Legendary assassins and their downfall. The shelves are all sorted in alphabetical order, so I find L fast and then search through the plethora of books, looking for the one I need. The same creeping sensation that I’m being watched sweeps over me as I glance down onto the ground floor level toward the door, wondering if I wouldn’t have heard someone enter. “What are you looking for?”