Horror Fiction Novels & Stories

He nods his head slightly telling me to continue. “What was it that started when you were 15?” I ask politely. Ash takes a moment to decide if he should answer that straight away. “It was nightmares. They started when I was 15 I would see these most hideous beast, animal’s that can only be found in your imagination. Most of the time I would be in the woods of a mountain called Aurelia Spires and I would have a weapon to kill them with like a bow and arrow or a long sword and a shield. Then a week before I turned 16 I had a dream about being out with my friend in the woods, we were camping there and this beast emerged from the bushes. I still remember the screams coming from my friend as the

The omegas had quietly delivered large bowls of buttery popcorn, an assortment of fizzy drinks, chocolate, and even some gummy worms—because, as Phoenix insisted, “It’s not a horror movie without gummy worms.” Gabby sat squished between Seris and Rory, clutching a soft blanket like a shield. Cato was behind them with Alex and Tyler, while Phoenix and Lucian lounged side by side in front, feet kicked up, already tossing popcorn into each other’s mouths. “I still don’t understand why we’re doing horror,” Gabby muttered, already suspicious of the creepy violin in the film’s score. “Because it’s tradition,” Phoenix said with a mouthful of popcorn. “Besides, the first jump scare always tells you

She sooner realizes the phantom that has haunted her steps was born of her imagination, nurtured by fear. The thing that haunted her in the dark was not the monstrosity she had imagined. It was a truth so strange, so alien to her expectations, that it felt like a different kind of nightmare. When the veil of fear is finally lifted, she sees clearly—what had been hunting her was not a demon or a shadow-born fiend, but a reflection of her own misguided terror.

The deafening silence only intensifies my fear, leaving me with a sinking feeling that something truly horrific has occurred. I took my step after standing paralyzed for so long, one step at a time, slowly. And as my feet move, the scene before my eyes gets much more horrifying. The furniture is overturned, the walls are splattered with blood, and a chilling breeze sends shivers down my spine. My heart races as I realize that I am not alone in this house, and the unknown presence lurking in the shadows only fuels my terror.

Only my dreams lately have not been normal. “There are solid corpses around, the forest area is flooded with blood. Wherever you step, you stumble upon the bodies of brutally murdered creatures. There are not only werewolves and lugars here, no less lycans and even people. Looks like hunters. I wander across the field, not believing in the horror that I see. Everything looks so frightening that it cannot be reality. Bloody mess from our supernatural world. These are the consequences that will follow if something is not done.” I woke up as if I had been doused with boiling water. Pain for the creatures spread throughout the body, reverberating with the beating of the heart in the temples. She

Maybe if I phrased my questions carefully, Viktor might slip up and reveal a clue. Speaking of mysteries, I glanced at the TV only to recoil instantly. The men had chosen the movie, of course a full-blown horror flick with massacres, blood, guts, and a helpless heroine who spent most of her time screaming and wandering around in the storm. I shook my head. Seriously, who acts that clueless? Another bloodcurdling scream pierced the speakers, and I could practically see the mutilated body parts on the screen without even looking. This genre was torture. Why did every man I knew seem to love gore? Couldn't they appreciate a romantic comedy for once? A little meet-cute, some cute misunderstandin

The scene at the Gables’ porch was no longer a private tragedy. The initial, piercing scream had acted like a grim summons, pulling people from their homes and their morning routines. They gathered in a loose, hesitant semicircle, a silent, growing audience to the horror. The air, once fresh with the promise of dawn, was now thick with the metallic tang of blood and the low, anxious hum of murmured voices. Faces, pale and drawn in the morning light, were etched with a familiar dread—the kind that came from knowing that no walls, no matter how well-fortified, could ever truly keep the darkness out.

“Were these any help, detective?” “I’m afraid not,” I said, defeated. I was in a bit of a daze after staring at projected newsprint on the dim screen. I leaned on the desk and looked around the building absentmindedly until my eyes finally settled on a small sign hanging on a table covered with a neat stack of books. “Warning: The Library is Not Responsible for Nightmares!” I read out loud, walking over to look at the books. Well-worn volumes with pink skulls grinning back at me from stickers on their spines. Dracula. Frankenstein. The Invisible Man.

Xavier joked. "According to my grandfather, a month after the boy's death, students started missing. They were all found dead in the woods a week or two after. They dubbed the serial killer as Sunnyville Reaper. And, from what my grandfather told me, your parents are one of those kids who bullied him." The student said before leaving. Even Xavier who always care less about anything around him fell silent. He could never imagine that his mother would be involved in something so dark like that.

It infuriated Cassy more—with the night that’s the homecoming of the ghosts and horrors. A wicked laugh itched to be out, instead, she scrutinized the height. The distance between her and the ground did not harrow her. It amazed her at how different she’s lurking around where the normal people might not even stare without a wave of nausea washing over them. An urge to smoke-filled her; she fetched a pack from the inside pocket of her dark blue jacket; ignited the flame, mumbling, “Every legendary story is a pent-up frustration of human beings to invoke fear in the minds of those whom they hate. Several against one or one against many.”