Horror Stories Books Novels & Stories

The view outside the window is nothing special—just the usual hustle and bustle of the city—but it is enough to distract me from the strange mix of emotions swirling inside me. I lean back, letting out a long breath as I try to calm my racing thoughts. The bouquet is still on my mind, but I force myself to focus on the stack of books I brought home. There are ten of them, neatly piled on the table, and for the first time in my life, I have decided to try reading a horror novel. The idea makes me laugh a little, though it is a nervous laugh. I hope I do not end up screaming so loudly that my baby decides to make an early entrance into the world.

I reached for the box, dragging it forward—and the box to its left nudged itself politely aside to make room. I stared. “Okay,” I said to no one. “That’s new.” Crown’s ears flattened. From somewhere near the history aisle, paper shuffled itself. A soft whick-whick, like pages turning without fingers. I rolled my shoulders, set the box on the counter, and told myself I was overtired. That the store had drafts and uneven floors and I had a busy imagination. I turned to the horror section to face a stack of hardcovers that had not been there a second before. The titles lined up in strict alphabetical order. My stomach did a small, mean dip.

💌✨ AUTHOR’S NOTE TO MY LOVELY READERS ✨💌 Hello, my lovely readers! 🥹❤️🌙 First of all, I just want to say a HUGE thank you to every single person who has opened Dark Tales of Midnight: A Collection of Taboo Stories and decided to take this journey with me. 🖤🌹✨

The horizon was a jagged smear of charcoal gray and bruised violet. For three years, I had walked toward it, guided by nothing but the rumors whispered in the hushed, terrified voices of dying scavengers. They spoke of a place that held the line, a fortress of humanity amidst the rotting sprawl of the walking dead. They called it "Haven."

Shaking her head, she said, "But aren't you only like that because you idiotically accepted an accursed book from a nobody? You said, you don't even believe in ghosts before you got that." He sighed and took out the book which always appeared inside his pocket for several months now. The book was giving off a mysterious vibe due to its black worn-out cover featuring a faceless monster. He got it from a fake friend who had styled himself as a book collector. Nathan was a horror writer so he accepted the creepy book. His initial objective was only to look for more ideas and inspiration. Who would have thought the horror writer who never believed in ghost would suddenly start seeing creepy ghos

Maybe she could ask Zoran if she could spend a couple of hours here every day. Walking down the isles, she noticed all kinds of books. Some on witchcraft, others on vampires, elves, unicorns, dragons.. everything she’s ever read a fantasy book about, there was plenty of information on it. Just as she was going back to the first floor to wait on Zoran, she saw it. The werewolf section. She couldn’t control herself. She had already glanced at all the other books but those. Slowly, she made her way over, looking at all the titles and covers. Finally, she found what she was looking for. Reaching up, her fingertips grazed the spine as a hand grabbed her wrist.

Seeing the stack of books piled up high on top of the table I knew I had found the right table. “Alec, I think we should go look in the kitchen. No one is back here.” Savenia said. “That my dear is where you are drastically wrong.” Once we reached the back table I watched as Savenia looked at several of the titles of the books piled on top. “History of the Werewolves. Psychology of the Paranormal. Ancient Greek Mythology. Witches and their Divine Power. Fae and the Woodland Creatures. The History of Dracula and the Vampire Methodology. Werebears and Shifters of all Kinds. Whoaaa. Those are some serious titles. I wonder who checked all these books, then lifted them here.” Savenia said.

Countless shelves lined with weathered books and scrolls stretched into the distance, promising untold secrets and forgotten wisdom. They made their way through the labyrinthine aisles, their eyes scanning the titles and searching for any mention of Lycans or black magic. Dust danced in the rays of sunlight that filtered through stained glass windows, lending an ethereal quality to their journey. Finally, they discovered a section dedicated to ancient legends and forbidden knowledge. The books here were wrapped in worn leather, their pages delicate and yellowed with age. Rey's fingers traced the spines until they settled upon a tome titled "The Chronicles of Shadows: Unveiling the Secrets of

It was then that she spotted the ancient spell book her grandmother gifted her on her fifteenth birthday and hope sprung forth. “I can think of only one thing to do to keep ye from his grasp and, possibly, reverse -or at least lessen- the bloodlust ye have,” Agatha said with an anxious tone. “I recall seeing something in this book my grandmother gifted to me. She was a powerful witch.” “Please hurry,” Kira struggled to say in a voice that echoed with a male tone. Agatha grabbed the spell book and quickly flipped through the pages while she warily moved away from her friend whose emerald green eyes were displaying flecks of dancing red light.

As he made his way across the room, he glanced at the bookshelves he passed but saw no books here that were turned upside down. Upstairs, he placed the book on an entry table in the hallway then paused, ears alert for any sounds like he’d heard this morning. Despite his love of horror, or perhaps because of it, Brad had never been easily unnerved. Scary movies, haunted trails and spook houses, most had little effect on him, and as for real life, he reserved his fear for things like disease, natural disasters, catastrophic accidents. It took more than an empty house to give him the creeps. Usually.