Horror Papyrus Novels & Stories

Because he had just been ripped apart. I turned around slowly and stared at the “pet” who had done the ripping. He still had blood on his face, but somehow looked… innocent. “I was hungry,” he murmured. Maybe it was my imagination, but his pupils looked a little sharper than before. [Wow. Trying to slut-shame someone in a horror dungeon? He had it coming.] [Pop the champagne. Ding-dong, the jerk is dead.] [Lol the stans are out. She can sleep with monsters but nobody can call her out?]

The only reply was the suffocating smoke, swirling ominously around him, and the sound of his own ragged breaths, quickening with each passing moment. Panic clawed at his throat as he strained to hear any sign of her. But the silence was deafening. It intensified the horror that began to creep into his mind. “What if the Demons had caught up with Gem?” The thought alone sent icy tendrils of dread spiraling through him. As he breathed, he began to feel shadows flickering at the edges of his vision. Suddenly, a pale candlelight popped up before his eyes, illuminating the hallways with a creepy radiance.

the giant screen glitched, and a haunting scream echoed from within the screen. Willa’s eyes widened as fear gripped her. Her eyes stared in horror as Kimberly’s body fell apart, one piece after another. First, the puppets grabbed her leg, then her hands, pulling until it separated from the rest of her body. Blood spilled... tainting the marble floor.

When I looked back, I found an older woman holding a hoe. Her thick, long hair hung straight down and brushed the ground. It looked extremely unusual. At that moment, I realized that the safe zone had shrunk, and I was standing in a danger zone. “It’s the middle of the night. What are you doing out here instead of sleeping?” The ghoul lady looked straight at me. I watched as her black hair floated and got close to winding around my neck. My throat was parched. It was a natural fear response. Shaking, I raised the eggs and greens in my hands.

Her mouth was stretched wide in a horrifying shriek. A wave of pure hatred rolled off her, so cold it burned the air. The chat stirred to life again. [Here we go! Classic jump scare!] [That's one of the manor's most vicious ghosts! It feeds on the players' fear!] [This newbie is toast! She won't even have time to react!] [I can already picture her getting torn to shreds...] But I didn't scream. I didn't run. Of course, my heart condition chose that exact moment to flare up. The pain was so bad I could barely stand.

|| Author POV || Goosebumps filled Rosa’s body. The pure horror filled her veins like ice. The hair on her body stood violently as terror flashed infront her naive eyes. Her vision blurred. Eyes watered uncontrollably at the nightmare before her. A man, barely recognizable as one was chained to a wooden chair. His head slumped grotesquely. Half of his scalp missing. His throat was scattered, bloods dripping down, revealing mangled flesh. Bloods covered his body. His face, it was melted. Burned meats. Acid? The thought alone twisted her stomach into knots.

Dante, with his heightened werewolf senses, realized the scream came from Cassius's basement. They exchanged worried glances, but mustering their courage, they grabbed a flashlight and decided to investigate. As they descended the creaky stairs, the flashlight cast eerie shadows on the walls, making it feel like they were stepping into a horror movie. What they found in the basement was a scene straight out of a nightmare—dead humans scattered across the floor like discarded dolls. Some bodies were fresh, while others were in various stages of decay, the stench of death permeating the air. Dante felt his stomach churn as the gruesome sight and smell assaulted his senses. He couldn't believe

In response to their resonance, from the center of darkness that he had buried deep within his being, images emerged that he had not called. He saw all kinds of grotesque and horrifying manifestations of death. An old woman with her tongue cut out and blood pouring from her mouth, which she tried to scream when she caught fire on a pyre. Infected necrotic tissue. Erich's cat hissing as he came to life in the supernatural moonlight. Skulls of animals completely stripped of meat by scavengers and dyed yellow by wind and sun. The last precious bubbles of oxygen escaping from the lungs of a drowning man. Viktor's own hands closing around Herwin's slim neck.

Flipping to the first page she skimmed the text. 'Vampiric entities exist in cultures across the world. Hysteria follows the legends of these phantoms, causing mass burnings and hangings of suspected vampires. Every culture has its own lore regarding vampires. These malevolent spirits would contaminate the living by biting them and drinking their life force to sustain their own.' This gave Layla pause as she remembered Atreus' elongated canines. She chewed her lip softly as she read on.

The only time the villa was ever this quiet and empty was after my mother’s death. A deep sense of dread and urgency quickens my steps and as I twist the doorknob, the first that hits me is the horrifying stench of death. My fingers fly to my lips to stifle a cry. Hugo sits in his chair, his neck bent at an unnatural angle with two, battered holes in them. Fangs. “Sainte Mere de Dieu (Holy Mother of God),” I breathe in disbelief, noting three more bodies on the floor, all sickly white, their faces contorted with pain and decay, their eyes, unseeing.