Horror Story Read Online Novels & Stories

Lankko closed his eyes and heard the cluck of the chicken against the chirping of the many insects of the forest. "Enjoying your mud bath?" Lankko heard Enzir's voice. He opened his eyes and saw the muddy face and body of his master. Lankko sat up and tried not to laugh at his master's appearance. "What do we do now, Jad Enzir?" he asked. ******* Author's Note Thanks for reading! If you like the story so far, please show your appreciation by leaving a good review and giving this novel a good rating. P.S. If you're interested in horror, check out my other novel also in GoodNovel entitled 'Vampire of the New World'. I also have a paranormal romance novel entitled 'Entice the Moon to Fall'.

The red-clad female ghost had once slaughtered an entire room of players in three seconds, then hung their corpses upside down from tree branches with red silk, creating a forest of dangling bodies. The Scissorhands monster had skewered more than a dozen people together, stirring their organs with his blades until they dissolved into a pile of flesh. As for the warden, he locked each team inside separate rooms and released over a dozen ghosts among them, forcing them to betray one another in desperate attempts to survive. In the end, every single one of the players was torn to pieces. All the players knew was that the bosses' methods were monstrously cruel. What they didn't know was that tho

Maybe I was hearing things. Another sound. Someone was definitely in my penthouse, which is scary because I stay alone. My heart started pounding. The security downstairs was impossible to bypass so who the hell is in my house? Slowly making my way to by bedroom and picking up a bat, I gently pushed the door “ hello” I called cautiously. Silence. Entering into the room, it was empty. Ok maybe there's no_ “ Miss me already, babygirl” My entire body froze. That voice.

I flipped to the next page. “The voice won’t stop. Keeps telling me what I am. What I’ll do. Monster. Killer. Can’t escape it. Can’t make it stop.” The next page was worse. It didn’t even make sense, not that the first two pages did, either. “Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood. Gore. A knife. Need the knife if I’m going to complete his ritual.” The rest of the page dissolved into illegible scribbles. I kept reading. It was page after page of the same thing. Fragmented thoughts about death and blood and murder. Some of the words were truly vile. Some in all capital letters, others written so tiny they were like the text form of whispers.

Written by Evelyn Mba ©®©® @Paranormal @Romance MR. GORGEOUS Two weeks flew by... The sun shone brightly..the wind blew caressing each skin. Roxanne stood on the balcony of the library, her eyes fixed on the book on her hands. It was too abnormal to her.. she was reading a paranormal story, something she has never read before. It was all about Wolf's. She sighed and closed the book. The book title was; A DEMON IN LOVE

I can't live my school because it's the only school that get dark-side books in it's library in my town New Orleans. I frequently used to go to library to read about story life of past oracles so I went against Mr John's advice by sneaking into the library to read my favourites untill I was banned not to enter the library anymore. Even though I was banned but he had forgotten that I borrowed a book from the library weeks ago which happened to be the darkest one called The Black Cults because I was eager to know how the black cults kill the Viper in that book.

No wonder some people get addicted to it. The memory of what happened last night makes me shudder, and I try not to think of those men's threats. Now I just want to enjoy being alone for the first time in a while, so I go down to the library and search for something to read. There's an entire shelf dedicated to novels about vampires, which is amusing to find inside a vampire's library, so I pick one called Carmilla and settle down in an armchair. I'm ten pages into it when the door opens abruptly.

“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.”

One time at work I'd even heard a co-worker called me the-Squidward-from-spongebob. Exactly why I hated them. That morning I'd just gotten up and, traditionally, said my good mornings to Sam triple zero eight, then the story stroke up. We were having a conversation of a book I'd just finished reading, 'No, Mr Harry Botter, do not turn me into a witch.' Believe me, it was a real book alright. The author was named Harry Botter, so he was the main character of his novel. Stories like that, what do they call them again? Paranormal stories, they were always fun to read. Partly because they were stupid, other part, they were nonsense. Nothing but ridiculous lies.

You could say that there are no ghosts in the world, and I could agree with you, but some people said that there are no werewolves in the world and we know for sure that they are, so… never say never. “I hate this place,” Sam said and looked around. “So many stories , horror stories that I get goosebumps just thinkin' about it.” “ I chose this place exactly for that. Because we all hate this place and it is the last place where Manganiello would think that we will come.”