Horror Online Stories Novels & Stories

I can't live my school because it's the only school that get dark-side books in it's library in my town New Orleans. I frequently used to go to library to read about story life of past oracles so I went against Mr John's advice by sneaking into the library to read my favourites untill I was banned not to enter the library anymore. Even though I was banned but he had forgotten that I borrowed a book from the library weeks ago which happened to be the darkest one called The Black Cults because I was eager to know how the black cults kill the Viper in that book.

said Johnson, “Like one of them, whatchamacallit?” “Urban legends,” said Taylor. “Yeah,” said Johnson. “It’s spooky.” “You ever hear the one about the girl? You know, the hitchhiker girl on the old north county road,” said Sullivan. “No,” said Johnson. “If you drive out there alone at night, you might see her,” smirked Sullivan. “She’s real pretty. Gorgeous. And she stops cars and asks for a ride, see? And then she tries to get you to go into the woods with her and if you go you’ll get lost and then she disappears.”

After two days of high temperatures and intense boredom, he remembered the three books. Sam pulled out the one with the Mummy on the cover, because it looked the most innocuous. It was entitled the Ninth Pan Book of Horror Stories. He wasn’t the least bit prepared for what he found inside. The first three stories involved emasculation, murder and burning at the stake. In his fevered state Sam felt he was not only watching the characters’ suffering, he was experiencing it along with them. He flung the book at the wall and then hid it again, wishing he could burn it like Jinnot, the young girl in the third story who was burned alive.

Looked like Loren had gotten carried away, Ria thought. "You know, of all the ghosts, the most dangerous are the ones that carry grudges and regrets…" Loren rambled on again. Ria started to think that Loren liked horror topics like this. "What do you mean?" Ria responded while reading through some of the articles she found earlier. “I have a story that my mother firsthand experienced. She once rented an old house that was haunted by a spirit full of regret and anger that almost brought her to an terrible accident…” Loren had already started preparing her story when Ria noticed that the clock already indicated that their next class was about to start.

While most people were busy freaking out, two stepped forward—chill and confident. They said they were mages. Seasoned pro in the game. They gave us the rundown: We were stuck in a horror game. Everyone here? Already dead IRL. The castle had thirty floors. Each floor had its own monster—or monsters. The higher you climbed, the scarier they got. Clear all thirty floors, hit the legendary 9,999 points, and you get a second shot at life. Bonus? A cash prize so massive, you'd never have to work again.

Birdy nodded in agreement, "It is time for the ghost stories to begin and be spread. Stories of a pack of wolves that live nowhere but everywhere, who rescue the weak, broken, and unchampioned, taking those they rescue away with them and disappearing with no clues to who they are or where they came from." ​Three gods and one vampire nodded in agreement. "Let the fun begin. Go lay the groundwork to make the stories true when our wolves awake," Hyperion ordered. ​Cronos snickered, "This is going to be so much fun. I am glad Gaia is letting me loose to help lend credence to the stories." ​"What good are the stories without those needed to make them come true?" Bob wondered out loud.

I would come home from my boring nine-to-five job, sink into my bed, scroll for a while, sleep, and wake up the next day to repeat the same routine. I unlocked my phone and started scrolling through different apps. I had no one to talk to, so I didn’t even bother checking my messages. Then a notification popped up, I bit my lip when I saw it was a p**n link. My fingers hesitated above the screen, my heart began to beat a little faster. My life might be boring, but I couldn’t deny myself of pleasure. I clicked on it and reached for the drawer beside my bed, pulling out the vibrator I had bought weeks ago but barely used. The video started playing and showed two men and a woman. One was betwee

“Castle. Vampires. Throne with issues.” “Vampires,” he echoed. “Right. Should’ve expected that.” He tilted his head. “You write horror?” I blinked. “What?” “You said ‘horror,’” he pointed out. “Unless you meant your life, in which case—relatable.” A reluctant smile tugged at my mouth. “Both, technically,” I said. “But yes. I… wrote horror. Online mostly. Short stories. Flash. Some longer stuff. Nobody important read them.” “Clearly somebody did,” he said, gesturing vaguely at the bus, the windows, the [KEY AUTHOR CANDIDATE: FLAGGED] that had flso long ago. “But hey, that’s metal. My mom hated scary movies; she’d have lost her mind over you.”

Dominatrices rarely operated under them. Still, it was a start. He ran the name through every encrypted paranormal database he had access to. Then human ones. Then the gray in-between: blogs, forums, whispered client testimonies buried in online shadows. She didn’t advertise. She didn’t need to. What he found instead were stories. Men, powerful ones — who’d come out of her sessions like they’d been remade. One even claimed his PTSD vanished. Another had stopped turning feral on full moons. A vampire had confessed that she made him forget bloodlust for the first time in three centuries.

"Change the... what?" "They said we’re a 'Post-Apocalyptic Survival' story," I explained, the plan forming in my mind as I spoke. "That's why they're liquidating us. But what if we become a **Horror** story? What if we become something so dark, so broken, that they're afraid to touch us?" Caspian’s eyes widened. "You want to 'corrupt' the data. You want to turn us into a virus." "It's the only way to stay on the drive," I said. "If we’re 'clean' data, they sell us. If we’re 'infected,' they isolate us. And isolation... that's just another word for privacy."