Horror/thriller Books By Black Authors Novels & Stories

he cries. I lunge the knife into the left side of his stomach. He screams in pain. I did it again on his upper right. “Help! Mum! Dad!” Lockie screams. “Goodnight, sleep tight.” I whisper. I quickly slash his throat and leave. I head back to Dead Man’s Woods. I’ve completed my revenge for now. Until someone else crosses paths with me I’ll stay hidden. Saunders house: The front door flings open and the security lights light up. A young boy runs out covered in blood and keeps collapsing. He holds his hand to his throat and the other on his stomach.

“Were these any help, detective?” “I’m afraid not,” I said, defeated. I was in a bit of a daze after staring at projected newsprint on the dim screen. I leaned on the desk and looked around the building absentmindedly until my eyes finally settled on a small sign hanging on a table covered with a neat stack of books. “Warning: The Library is Not Responsible for Nightmares!” I read out loud, walking over to look at the books. Well-worn volumes with pink skulls grinning back at me from stickers on their spines. Dracula. Frankenstein. The Invisible Man.

I tell him. Flavius nods in response and begins to pack his things. I fill my satchel with various clothing items and few books. "Why are you packing books?" Flavius asks curiously. "Since we are visiting another horde without sending a messenger ahead, I need to bring something that will serve as a gift. Those of the Horde of Fates are known knowledge seekers. I have many books in my private collection that have not been seen since The Fires. They should serve as a suitable present," I say.

She could feel the pull of the shadows, subtle but deliberate, and the familiar weight of Damon’s presence behind her, silent, protective, yet taut with tension, as though he too felt the danger creeping closer with every heartbeat. Ahead, the library beckoned, a sanctuary of knowledge and secrets, and perhaps, a mirror of the dangers that awaited her. The air grew thick as she entered, the scent of old leather and scorched paper wrapping around her, almost intoxicating in its familiarity. Her fingers brushed along the spines of the tomes, each one humming faintly, a resonance she could feel deep within her bones. And then, at the far end, a book with a blackened leather cover, etched with s

Thank you so much for your interest in this book! Author, Black angel

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.

*BOOM! Aloud thunderclap echoed through the room, startling him. The light outside the window dimmed, and the once bright and cheerful kitchen became shrouded in darkness. Hyde's heart pounded as he looked around, confused and disoriented. In the blink of an eye, everything changed. The comforting sounds of breakfast were replaced by eerie silence and distant, echoing whispers. The table, once filled with delicious food, was now bare, and cold. That, he realized, he found himself back in that night—his most traumatic memory. The sound of heavy rain pounded against the roof, mingling with the distant wail of sirens. Hyde's breath quickened as he stepped towards the door, his footsteps echoing

“You surely will.’ He whispers as the familiar hue of lights awaits them both in the middle of the path they are taking. Knowing what it is as they are aware of what draws it in front of them. Daniela raise her hand as the lights came down and surrounds her. One by one and with a click of her hand, it turns into the books that make the entirety of these dark and dreadful charades. With that, she names the books one by one that open and presented their heart, but only the clear four can be heard at that moment as it rings. “Blood Resonance. The Call of Death. Death Reincarnate. Shinzo Dimension.” As the book opens along with its prominent hue that also represents the prominent sins that are t

“We work in subtle ways. Helping escaped mortals out of the country. Gathering information. Blackmail. Secrets that implicate wealthy immortals, or make them owe us favors. Economic spells to bring bankruptcy to those we want under our control.” “And why not something more dramatic? Why not, say, destroy the Necropolis?” Matilda chuckled. “Rosette, darling, would you happen to have one of those perfumed cigarettes on you?” Rosette handed one to Matilda, and lit it for her. Matilda took a puff, and exhaled purple smoke. “Miss Blackwood, allow me to explain my position as it currently stands. As I said, I lead an illegal coven of witches. Additionally, I am a woman of color—which, to put it li

But then, why were all her belongings still here? She stepped toward the shelves and ran an index finger horizontally across the spine of each book, noting the authors. Stephen King. Paul Tremblay. Lauren Beukes. All horror, violence, and morbid. Certainly not what Jade preferred to read. The magazines held a different texture, they were smooth but thinner, and her fingertip snagged every crevice. She plucked a random one out and examined the cover. Vogue. Flipping through the magazine, she noted several of the corners were folded as a bookmark. She glanced over the articles on those pages: Interviews with influential people, food and drink reviews, and beauty products.