Horror Stories Reading Novels & Stories

Terrifying" which was released in 1982. Well, it sounds weird. Let's play it!" Hayle was about to put the cassette into the player and brought it closer to the microphone on the podium. "Wait!" Tony walked quickly over to Hayle. "Where did you get this?" Hayle gave Tony a strange look, "From Corrine. Why?" "May I see it?" asked Tony. "Sure." Hayle handed the tape to Tony. Tony looked at the tape carefully. He sensed something was wrong. "You'd better not play it." "Why?" asked Hayle.

: --- The rain tapped lightly against the windows of the old library as Anna flipped through the yellowed pages of an urban legends book. The room was dimly lit, the overhead light flickering occasionally, casting eerie shadows across the table. Her best friend, Mia, leaned over her shoulder, eyes wide with curiosity. “Why are you always digging into creepy stuff?” Mia asked, half-laughing, half-nervous. Anna shrugged, brushing her curly black hair out of her face. “I like stories that make your skin crawl. Look at this one,” she said, pointing to the faded text on the page.

“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.”

In 1983 a Mrs Carson of New York was laid out in our coffin, presumed dead of hear disease. As mourners watched, she suddenly sat up, alive as you or I. Unfortunately her daughter dropped dead of fright on the spot. I don't own any of this stories. I found them in some creepy books. I'm thinking of writing my own scary stories, but not anytime soon. You can send me your short stories for a feature if you feel like it. Thanks for reading. Enjoy!I don't own any of this stories. I found them in some creepy books. I'm thinking of writing my own scary stories, but not anytime soon.

As I stepped out and fumbled for my towel, a spooky creak scraped along the doorframe, sending a jolt of fear through my veins. Gosh, why did I do this to myself? I had this terrible habit of reading horror stories and spending sleepless nights huddled under the covers in fear. And then it came again, the same scraping noise but followed by muffled, ominous laughter. It was definitely not my overactive imagination. Did someone else use this room when I wasn't around at night? Goosebumps erupted across my already prickling skin as I slowly opened the door a sliver to look. It was only a quarter past nine, too early for ghosts to come out. At least in the stories I read, they waited till midni

asked one of them. “I have some back in the room. It’s for the sleepover.” replied the other. “I’m so excited!” “Me too! I can’t wait for the Bloody Mary! I will be the one to try it out first!” “Oh my gee! Are we going to read some creepypasta stories for the scary parts?” “Yes! And I heard Nympha will also tell us some true supernatural stories when she was still in the Philippines!”

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

Ten-year-old Bree chimed as Emma looked over her shoulder worriedly. “That’s nice, sweetie. Why don’t you tell me about that mermaid story again?” “I hate that story. Can I tell the one about the wolf?” Bran chimed in. “Wolf?” Patrick asked as Brinna looked out the window and saw another animal running alongside their vehicle. “Yeah, the one that eats the girl in the red hood.” “Mommy, I don’t like that story. It is scary.” Bree snuck at the rolling landscape and saw the scary animal with sharp teeth sneering at her, so she pretended to look forward and saw her parents exchange a look.

As I played the game, I felt long forgotten memories flooding my mind. "You are getting better," Grandpa said, nodding his head. "I guess I'm a great teacher, even though my student will never best me." "Arrogant as always," Grandma said, her nose still buried in the book she was reading. Grandma was sitting in her favourite armchair, immersed in a terrifying horror novel. She loved reading horror stories, something I could never understand. Why would someone enjoy experiencing fear through reading? In general, Grandma always had a book with her, enjoying the fascinating tales that unfolded within their pages. Her presence always felt like a warm embrace, and I loved being close to her.

Published by Audio Arcadia in 2016 were DarkFire at the Edge of Time, Farnsworth’s collection of visionary science fiction stories, Nightworld, A Novel of Virtual Reality, and two collections of stories, The Black Arts and Black Secrets. Jorge Arenas Born in 1986, I come from Rio Piedras Puerto Rico. Due to my family's military nature I traveled the United States a great deal and that's where I found my passion, urban legends. Studying these brought me to another subject, horror. As I threw myself into the genre I found worlds that mirrored our own and experiences that I could feel in my soul. The books, movies and video games became my go to since I was young, and they continue to entertain