Horror Collections Novels & Stories

A black hole appeared on Alex’s forehead. Alex reached in and grabbed something before dragging it out. It was a cold coffin. It was none other than the Soul Collection Coffin. Whoosh, whoosh— When Alex forcefully dragged the Soul Collection Coffin out of his mind palace, the color of the sky changed, and the blood clouds vibrated. Carol’s eyes turned cold, and her finger that pointed at Alex also froze. “Soul Collection Coffin?” She backed away in shock. Meanwhile, Clara Beck and her family were still on the ground and couldn’t get up after they fell. They were all stunned by the sight of Alex dragging a coffin out of his forehead.

Those books were older than any of the others in his office. The bottom shelf (the one he’d been searching when he’d first heard the cats playing in the hall) held his collection of horror anthologies. The famed Whispers series, edited by Stuart David Schiff, featuring the varied works of Ramsey Campbell, Stephen King, Charles Grant and so many others. The Mammoth Book of Best New Horror from England. The Shivers series, published by Cemetery Dance. Masques, Borderlands, Shadows, Stalkers, Dark Forces, October Dreams I & II, Corpse Blossoms, Horror Library Volumes 1-5, and Prime Evil. Classic horror anthologies jammed next to paperback collections of slightly lesser repute with titles to mat

The walls were dark, the lighting subtle and atmospheric. "This is... wow," I breathed. "You like it?" He seemed pleased by my reaction. "I had it installed last year. Haven't actually used it much." "Why not?" "No one to watch movies with." He moved to a cabinet along the wall, revealing an extensive collection of films. "So, what's it going to be? I promise I have more than just horror." "You said horror. I'm holding you to that." His eyebrow rose. "Brave choice. Any preferences?"

Caught in the web of secrets and revelations, I stood frozen in the midst of the library, my heart pounding against my chest. The pieces of the puzzle I had unwittingly stumbled upon formed a terrifying image before me. Werewolves, packs, and an impending clash that could reshape the balance of power. Fear gripped me, sending shivers down my spine.

Horror struck me like lightning, and I knew then that my worst fears had come true - my old pack and family had been brutally wiped out. “Hallie get back here now.” Hugh ordered me as he and Alpha Arnie chased after me, attempting to calm me down, but it was too late. I was already consumed by a need to uncover the truth. Ignoring their calls, I sprinted onward, disappearing into the maze of corridors within Moonstone Manor. Each corner I turned revealed more and more lifeless bodies, my heart breaking with every sight. The hallways felt suffocating, as though every step I took was leading me deeper into a twisted nightmare.

Apparently, there were four Shade packs in the area—the Blackmoor Shade Pack, Night Shade Pack, South Shade Pack, and the Thornton Shade Pack. Each pack had their own family color of some sort. The Blackmoors were purple, Souths yellow, Thorntons blue, and the Nights green.

Especially this close to the beginning of it. I open her closet to make sure she’s not hiding in it and find nothing, but clothes and a messy shoe collection tossed carelessly on the floor. I’m a bit of a neat freak so I cringe at the state of things, though Mace’s room back home is always in a similar state of disarray. He and this girl would get along well, as she also has dirty dishes stacked by her bed. I drop to my stomach to look under there. I don’t see two, startled blue eyes staring back at me, but I do see a box. My curiosity gets the better of me and I pull it towards me. It’s a hatbox the girl has obviously doodled flowers and hearts allover, but on closer look, there’s also what

Jeffery leaned forward and sifted through a few files on his desk. When he found the one he was looking for, he slapped it down toward me. Uncrossing my legs, I plucked it off the desk and flipped the front cover open. What greeted me were pictures of dead bodies, all women, with ghastly expressions of horror on their faces. They were frozen in a perpetual scream that had shivers running up my spine. All of them were sallow looking with paper-white skin and their eye sockets sunken in. "What the fuck?" I mumbled.

“And any other damage you’ve done.” Sam picked the ancient, battered paperbacks off the pavement and saw, for the first time, they were part of the Pan Book of Horror Stories series. He was an obedient child, so he dutifully got out his weekly allowance, but he couldn’t believe how much the owner was asking for them. “They’re collectors’ items now,” the man said. “Go and check on your interweb thingy if you don’t believe me.” Sam put the books into his bag and slunk back to school. With no money left to spend, he didn’t feel like hanging around in town.

All of that combined in a mix of fear and pleasure, of dread and anticipation, making my whole body buzz and tremble. I left the shower and returned to the room, where there was all the evidence of the previous night. My sheets were covered in blood and sperm, and some other weird-looking things that I guess came from both of us. I started removing them when a small note fell. I picked it up, my breath hitching in my throat, and my pulse pumping in my ears. I gulped and started reading the pretty cursive writing on it. “You should count yourself lucky, doll. But you are going to run out of it pretty soon, and the next killer that visits you won’t get seduced by those plump lips and thunder t