Horror Stories To Write About Novels & Stories

And it’s already had a taste . Tales from The Lake Vol.1 anthology—Remember those dark and scary nights spent telling ghost stories and other campfire stories? With the Tales from The Lake horror anthologies, you can relive some of those memories by reading the best Dark Fiction stories around. Includes Dark Fiction stories and poems by horror greats such as Graham Masterton, Bev Vincent, Tim Curran, Tim Waggoner, Elizabeth Massie, and many more. Be sure to check out our website for future Tales from The Lake volumes.

I grinned. Rina snorted. “I’m a little annoyed by people trying to turn classic literature into horror shit.” Kimi and I looked at her in surprise. “So, you prefer pure horror?” I asked. Rina rolled her eyes. “Have you met your sister? She’s all about the jump scares and psychological thrillers.” I wrinkled my nose. “So is your brother. I’m not going to lie, Blood and Chocolate and Warm Bodies were a compromise. As was Shaun of the Dead.”

His wrinkled face looked like it was crawling with countless wriggling worms. I shuddered and stepped back, whispering to Silvia, "Good thing I've got you. This place is terrifying." She snorted and suddenly shoved me forward, straight toward George. With an icy laugh, she said, "This pretty boy will make a great offering. You're going to love him." Before I could react, George gestured, and several eerie puppets stepped forward to pin me down and drain my blood. A sharp bell rang out, echoing through the night.

Before there were doors between worlds, there were stories. They whispered from hearth to hearth and ship to ship— of wolves that ran like midnight wind, of foxes with nine tails and nine more tricks beyond that, of fae who looked like carved moonlight and smiled like knives. Humans loved those stories—as long as they stayed in books and bedtime. The moment a story breathed, the moment a pair of eyes glinted from a tree line or a shadow stepped out of the corner of a room, humans did what humans do best when they’re afraid.

So, I killed him, stashed his phone, and used it to send that murder threat, giving Jacob his opening. Under my conditioning, Jacob was no longer satisfied with torturing animals. He craved human blood, so I gave him the chance, and sure enough, he didn't disappoint me. Jacob's face twisted with mounting terror, and he gasped for air. "Oh, sorry. I almost forgot you are allergic to pollen." I looked at the fresh flowers in the room, stood, and picked up the trash bag. "I guess you rushed out without your meds, right? I'm heading out."

“About the swamp being haunted?” I nod. Even though we hadn’t grown up together, I’m pretty sure that we both had gotten the same tired ghost stories passed around in the hallways about such places around our hometowns. “I know this sounds crazy, but what if the stories are true?” Her tone is fervent, and her eyes shine with a hot certainty. “Not the witches and stuff. But there is something there, and I think…” She draws in a deep, steadying breath. “I think it’s a demon.”

So he inspired me to be creative with my writing. Stephen King- He is in my top 5 favorite authors of all time. I love reading his books. I love how dark, real, lighthearted, and horrific his stories can be. I love the world and characters he creates. He is main reason why I gotten into horror. His books "The Shining" and "Carrie", which were turned into classic movies, helped influenced me to create this story.

APPROACH THE CAVE 2 I did not believe I can have this kind of phobia I started to develop in this cave Cave on water with weird and scary sculptures inside it wall. The most scaring part of this sculptures is whenever they want to have an eye contact with we humans looking at them, very scary that i can not even control myself when I get to an extent.

You guys are the best! Another thing... I am thinking of changing the title and the cover of my story so it will look more of horror-romace than pure horror. What do you think? What do you think can boost my views? Your contributions are appreciated.

A murmur spread through the hall — someone laughed, someone asked, “What do you mean, sir?” Raghavan replied, “We will tell stories. One by one. Stories of fear. But remember — every story must carry the scent of truth. Because fear… does not live in lies.” A cold shiver ran through the room. Some students protested, but the professor only smiled and said, “If you don’t believe me, let’s begin with my story.” And slowly, he sat down. The candlelight flickered across his face — and he began to speak.