Horror Poetry Novels & Stories

"In the darkest hours of the night, when you least expect it, my presence will seep into your consciousness like a vile contagion. The specter of your wrongdoing will become a malevolent poltergeist, tearing at the fragile threads of your sanity." The room became a chamber of horrors, a stage set for a grotesque play of vengeance. Shadows danced upon the walls, whispering their secrets of torment and despair. The air turned fetid, tinged with the stench of impending doom, as my threat enveloped the very essence of Leo's being, clawing its way into the recesses of his mind.

Ava's breath scampered as she helmed through the ominous landscape. As she walked, the atmosphere grew heavier, and a distant howl echoed, sending chills down her spine. Suddenly, a figure emerged from the shadows – a silhouette with piercing eyes that seemed to gleam in the dusk. It was a creature, neither fully mortal nor entirely beast, its sight sending waves of fear through Ava's very core.

My surroundings exude a malevolent aura, and the very air is laced with an unsettling chill. As I race through the nightmarish woods, the horrifying howls of the black wolf reverberate through my very soul, causing a paralyzing dread to coil within me. Its presence is an ever-present menace, haunting me like a relentless spectre. I know it is there, somewhere, even though I cannot see it but there is no denying it’s bone-shrilling howl.

Some appeared as twisted caricatures of human beings, their features warped and contorted, while others seemed to defy description, their shapes shifting and morphing in the dim, flickering light. A sense of foreboding hung in the air, as if I had stumbled into a realm where my deepest fears had taken on tangible form. Whispers, no longer unintelligible, echoed in my ears, weaving a chilling narrative of despair and dread. They spoke of forgotten sins and vengeful spirits, their words like icy tendrils creeping into my consciousness.

He stopped scrolling and read the full poem, his skin growing cold with gooseflesh as he did so. Along the shore the cloud waves break, The twin suns sink behind the lake, The shadows lengthen In Carcosa. Strange is the night where black stars rise, And strange moons circle through the skies, But stranger still is Lost Carcosa. Songs that the Hyades shall sing, Where flap the tatters of the King, Must die unheard in Dim Carcosa. Song of my soul, my voice is dead, Die thou, unsung, as tears unshed Shall dry and die in

“I believe you Polly,everything you said about this place is true…its haunted!At first I only felt it,but now… I have seen this evil with my own two eyes!” “Oh God!”Polly gasped.She wasn’t crazy after all.The last five months had been nothing but sheer torture.Even Royce thought she just had a fanciful imagination,but now her own sister had become privy to the manor's supernatural aura. What was this darkness clouding her marital home?What did it want? “I was getting dressed,”Ginny continued.”All of a sudden I felt the room grow cold.I thought I must have left the window open,but when I checked it was closed.The cold seemed to come from everywhere.”

In dedication to Born By Power is a series of poem fixed within chapters of the book. The first was relating to Chaos And Apocalypse, which pretty much revealed a lot about the uprise of hell. This is the second and is themed on the horrific nature of Halloween and written with relativeness to hell. What does this hold to unviel? Who knows. Screams of Halloween Halloween, Halloween, Soft screams of blood chime, The period of dark, The day of ghouls, demons and imps,

There was no innocent reason for anyone to be on her porch at this hour. Fear tugged her back toward the bed, toward the blankets she had once used to hide from childhood nightmares, when pretending was enough to make monsters go away. Ignore it, and it will disappear. But this was not a child’s fear. This was not the trick of moonlight or branches scratching at the walls. This was a man. A man who knew her father was gone. A man who had been watching her, inching closer as the house became quieter, emptier, more vulnerable. She did not need to see his face to know who it was or why he had come.

he whispered into the darkness, the words, once a sacred truth, now tasting like bitter ash on his tongue. She sighed in her sleep, a sound of perfect, unwavering contentment. Grey did not sleep. He lay rigidly beside her, staring at the cracked ceiling, watching the faint orange light from the streetlamps paint shifting, monstrous patterns overhead. The adrenaline and alcohol had long since faded, leaving behind a cold, clear, and utterly terrifying dread that seeped into his very marrow.

Aurora noticed this, and was not certain what was happening, in her inquisitive nature she had to confirm what was happening. ‘I thought we taking the cable that will lead East-part of the hills”, she said ‘Yes, we supposed to. But I have got something else planned”, he responded. The cable ride travelled down west of the hill, it went over lower hills, across valleys with thick woods below them. The wood had beautiful lightening emanating from it, it lighted up the entire valley, the trees could be liken to a treasure house, which got lots of gold and precious stones sparkling out of it, the valley gave that sense of magic. The sight from above was magnificent; Aurora was in awe, her intuit