Novel & Cerita Horror Text Stories

I remember when I was in the sorcerer's house in the night almost get carried away by the ghost in the night of Tortuga, I remember when I and my friends where having a nice and enjoyable Halloween Night party with our costumes before the arrival of the Black cults. I remember my parents and started crying...I started weeping but... couldn't weep out as there is no one to be of my aid here instead I would even get into more danger my giving a sound to show that am downstairs to anyone close to where is am. I feel lost, tired, weak as I haven't eaten for three days and the last thing I ate was a fruit, Apple I guess. As I was down depressed, weeping and thinking about my life, I hear a sound

"Why don't you write those scary dreams into a story and submit it to the school's literary folio? People would go nuts if you made a story and put a note that said it was based on a true story." My friend Hazel was giving me ideas on how to maximize my time despite the situation I had with Rian. She was a close friend of mine, and she was helping me cope with my situation. Hazel and Pearl are my best friends in college, and we were now hanging out in the cafeteria as I explained to them my situation with Rian, the curse, and even the hallucinations and its effects.

It infuriated Cassy more—with the night that’s the homecoming of the ghosts and horrors. A wicked laugh itched to be out, instead, she scrutinized the height. The distance between her and the ground did not harrow her. It amazed her at how different she’s lurking around where the normal people might not even stare without a wave of nausea washing over them. An urge to smoke-filled her; she fetched a pack from the inside pocket of her dark blue jacket; ignited the flame, mumbling, “Every legendary story is a pent-up frustration of human beings to invoke fear in the minds of those whom they hate. Several against one or one against many.”

When I opened my eyes again, I was standing in front of a massive Victorian manor. "Welcome to Hollow Creek Manor." A cold, mechanical voice boomed from the sky. "Welcome, players, to the S-class survival game: Hollow Creek Manor. The rules are as follows: Survive for 10 days. Keep your Anxiety Level below 100. If it reaches 100, your soul will be obliterated. At the end of the game, the lower your Anxiety Level, the greater your reward." I froze. A game? I looked around and saw a few other people standing nearby.

The next second, the Patchwork Monster tore the man in half. He tossed the body outside casually. Just then, a crisp, bell-like voice sounded outside. “It’s after work hours, who’s so rude as to be throwing bodies around?” A young girl with three heads and eight arms appeared at the doorway. With just one look at the shop, anger filled her voice, and her hair stood on end. “Who the hell had a death wish and smashed the Number One Must-Eat shop in the entire horror game?”

But still, my eyelids are absolutely reluctant to close. As I lay there staring blankly at the ceiling, I suddenly remembered Javier’s collection of horror books. That’s right. A while back, I’d idly picked up one of his scary stories. Since I’m actually a scaredy-cat, every time I read one of those horror stories, I’d immediately be scared out of my wits and end up falling asleep from emotional exhaustion.

1, edited by Joe Mynhardt Fear the Reaper, edited by Joe Mynhardt For the Night is Dark, edited by Ross Warren Short story collections: Dead Reckoning and Other Stories by Dino Parenti Things You Need by Kevin Lucia Frozen Shadows and Other Chilling Stories by Gene O’Neill Varying Distances by Darren Speegle The Ghost Club: Newly Found Tales of Victorian Terror by William Meikle Ugly Little Things: Collected Horrors by Todd Keisling Whispered Echoes by Paul F. Olson

"And you have pissed me off." He believes me. Suddenly he believes every horror story he has been told since he was a little boy. That they were all true: the dead things hungering for the warm living flesh; the bony hand coming out of the closet in the black of night; the monsters from another page of reality, the unturned page--who could look so human, so cute. He reaches for his gun. Too slowly, much too.

Late in the afternoon, while their mother was upstairs sorting through clothes, the girls cornered him in the hallway. “We will drug Mom again,” Sara whispered. She pressed close to him so her breasts brushed against his arm. “She’ll pass out after dinner tonight.” Clara smiled seductively. "We will do something crazier than yesterday." Vincent’s lips stretched into a smile. "I'm ready." That evening, Lena drank her spiked wine without suspicion. As expected, within minutes her eyelids grew heavy. She yawned, slumped onto the living room couch, and fell into a deep sleep.

It made no sense. I pulled up to the house. Nathan came in yesterday. It was nearly two in the morning, and Nathan should have been asleep or at least trying to sleep. I parked the car in the garage. I saw the night nurse, Zora, on the phone. She looked up from her phone, wide eyed. “Oh, dear God! There you are. Did you get my texts? I’d been texting you for an hour!” I looked at my phone. There had been a dozen texts from her. I hadn’t been able to see them with my phone locked away in the club. “I’m sorry, I wasn’t able to get to my phone. What is it?”