Horror Stories Book Novels & Stories

This shadow, this darkness with fangs, it had the power to stipulate how they dreamed and that made him crazy with need to blow the creature’s head off. “This is a local legend about nightmares, a satanic sorcerer, and black magic. It is titled as Shadows and Blood, and is 50 years old. Folklore, through songs and words and this guy had recorded it down, a little and a lot of his own story.” She looked at the book, biting her lips, forehead crinkling in concentration. “Sound gory and ancient and I have never heard of this.” Art said as he struggled to open his tired eyes. It burned from the lack of sleep. Aurora looked tired as well, but she was dogged to finish the book, to find anything mo

At least with the trusty young librarian. “How about something scary?” I look at the mom before handing her the book we had already discussed while the child had been in class. “Is it too scary?” The girl pulls her hands back and turns to her mother. “Is just a little bit.” I place the book on the counter and wait for her to make the decision. “Or there’s a not scary one I think you’d like.” I watch amused as her forehead creases, she’s thinking hard and the smile as she takes the copy of Sam Wu is Not Afraid of Ghosts.

For this reason, I decided to move all then into strange short stories, that is already a storybook of different themes. The w******l policy does not allow me to remove or delete those books, so they will remain there but as a "paused" book. You can find only the introduction of those books on w******l and no else more. But there you can find some covers I made for those stories and that I can not upload here. The stories of a single chapter will continue to be published, of course. Each volume of Strange short stories will have 3 medium-sized stories and about 10 short stories.

Damon nodded I flew to the library the following day to return 'kidnapped' I decided I wanted another book, this time I chose a different author and a different genre, I chose horror, which wasnt far from thriller, like the first book, but horror was my favourite, I loved how ghosts were scary, and there were demons, and scary witches that cursed you, it made me laugh, for some reason this had always made me laugh, even before I knew I was a witch, now I knew why. The librarian was amazed to see me so quickly, but nodded in greeting, I nodded back. I chose a book called second nature, and blinked home, yes I could've flown but decided to blink. As soon as I got home I felt danger, not exactl

The title sent shivers through me: 'Dark Powers, Secrets of the Werewolves'. I opened the book, and a strange glow emanated from the pages. I felt a sudden jolt, like a surge of electricity had passed through me. The room began to spin, and I fell to the ground, the book slipping from my grasp. As I struggled to get up, I heard the old woman's voice, urgent and worried. 'Ryker! Ryker, what's wrong?' She rushed into the room, her eyes scanning me frantically. Then her gaze fell upon the book, and her expression changed to one of alarm. 'Oh, no. You shouldn't have touched that.'

I shrugged, putting my pillow on my lap and placing on it the book I had snagged off the bookshelf. “You read horrors?” Liam asked, eying my book. “Yes, I read and love them.” I couldn’t hide my smile. “Do you?” “Me?” He blinked, pointing to himself. “Who else? There’s no one here but us.” I pointed out, causing his cheeks to get a pink glow, and my smile grew. Aww, he was really adorable. “No, I don’t. I don’t mix well with horror of any kind— movies, books, or games— because I’m a scaredy cat. I can’t even stand scary campfire stories.”

Like I was shopping for bedtime stories instead of trying to decide whether my life had cracked open into impossibility. “Thank you,” I murmured. The folklore section was tucked into a quiet corner near a window that looked out toward the forest. Of course it did. The books there were a strange little army: weathered hardcovers, thin local history pamphlets, glossy paperbacks with titles involving moons and curses and women who looked poorly dressed for weather. I started with the serious looking ones. Northern Appalachian Folk Beliefs, Predator Myths of the American East, Silver, Salt, and Blood: Ritual Materials in Regional Lore. I pulled them down one by one, making a stack against my che

She poured herself another glass of cheap red, already on her third, and dropped onto the couch in her pencil skirt and blouse, buttons half undone. The city lights through the rain-streaked windows. Her laptop was still open on the coffee table, case files glowing like accusatory little rectangles. She should sleep. Instead she reached for the dusty old book she’d bought on a drunken whim two years ago at that weird occult shop downtown. *Daemonologie for the Modern Woman.* Stupid. But tonight it felt like the right kind of stupid. She flipped it open, scanned a page at random, and slurred the words under her breath. Latin? Probably, didn’t matter.

he answered flatly. I stopped mid-step, my body going still as his words sank in, a chill running down my spine. “A mass murderer?” I repeated under my breath, my fingers tightening slightly. He glanced back at me, his expression unreadable. “Are you scared? You don’t seem like the kind of girl who get scared easily,” he remarked, his tone almost teasing as he kept walking. I swallowed hard, my throat dry, then hurried after him, my steps slower now as unease settled in my chest.

The books here were faintly covered in dust. As he reached out to the top shelf, his eyes fell on a familiar thick black book lying on the floor. The Art Of The Body. Before he could stop himself, his eyes flicked up and locked with Scarlett. She didn't look away, but a deep blush gradually spread across her cheeks. That book brought back memories, and for a moment, he forgot the unspoken tension between them. He looked away finally and pulled out several dusty books from the shelf. Two were about old werewolves, one about vampires, and the last one was about witches.