Horrors In This House Novels & Stories

A house. It stood eerily alone, like something out of a horror movie. I didn’t remember seeing it when we drove in. Old-fashioned, creepy even, but fancy in a weird way. My breath caught—maybe I could hide there for the night. What’s the worst that could happen? It had to be better than wandering these streets at this hour.

Alika’s POV I used to think horror stories exaggerated things. That walls don’t bleed. That houses don’t whisper. That curses were metaphors for family trauma. But now, in this cursed manor—this breathing tomb of Blackwell secrets—I’ve learned the truth. They don’t just whisper. They scream.

answered William. William told Angelic that his family was living n London for good. He decided to stay in Brookfield with his dad for they have lots of work to be accomplished. "Let's go?" asked William. He closed the gate and they drove the car going to the hospital. While driving, Angelic informed William about her father's hallucinations the other night and she feared that it might caused serious problem on his dad's mental health. "What if Doctor Morgan was telling the truth? Like there was really an existence of ghost in the cell."

With a choir, singing in her living room! “Beth,”Emma said ever so sweetly,“honey,are you totally sure you weren't having a dream?You must realize how this sounds!All this talk of caskets and corn children giving you ominous warnings….did you watch a horror movie before bed?You know how those upset you.” Beth composed herself as best she could.”No, I didn't watch a horror movie Em.I came downstairs thinking I’d left the telly on and there in my living room was a casket with me in it!And a choir of children.”

My bloodboiled at the sight of such a waste of my time. “Easy there, Tiger,” Sia hastily warned me with gritted teeth as her smile became panicked. “You do not have to cause a scene.” I ignored her. I gagged silently as we both entered House of Thorne. Fear. I could smell a lot of it. I scrunched my nose up and looked around to see old tensed up women and men huddled together in their wealthy bubble.

I hurried over and tapped the man. "Hey, are you okay?" My hand touched his back, and I froze. A chill ran through me. I turned him over. Every muscle in me locked up. It was the guy from 603. He had multiple stab wounds to the chest, blood soaking his clothes and the mattress beneath him. I nearly collapsed to the floor. What the hell was going on? "Are you out of your fucking mind?" A furious shout rang out from downstairs. It was Jacob. Worried he might run into the killer somewhere in the building, I pushed open the stairwell door and hurried downstairs. In the darkness, my foot struck something, and I nearly tumbled down the stairs.

Three days before Sheldon was supposed to leave the country, he mortgaged our house. He even helped us pack, moving me and the boys into a tiny one-room basement unit on the third floor down. It was barely 300 square feet and was damp, musty, and dark. Sheldon stood in the middle of that little room, talking to our sons as if he was giving some grand speech.

I thought it was scary because they have nice props, they are using something that truly looks like blood, and the sound effect suits the place. Suddenly someone grabbed my foot, it was cold as ice, my flashlight and Dean's died just in time. Okay, I'm taking my word back against this horror house. I can see nothing but darkness and a little light from the flickering lights. My mind goes telling me; 'Just go straight and don't enter the room to get out of the horror house immediately.' That cold hand is nowhere to be found. I was relieved after that. I heaved a deep breath, and I didn't realize that I was holding Dean's wrist, it was really my reflexes. It was unintentional, I swear!

The TV flickered for a moment and I saw images that seemed to be taken from inside a house - not this one though. Then he hit the pause button. He moved to the door and turned off the light and left. I stared at the television wondering what he was about to show me as the old house I was in continued to creak and groan in the late Halloween night wind. I felt myself starting to shiver with discomfort again. My emotions had been a roller-coaster since I'd been accosted. I laid there trembling recalling

Then at the river. Because suddenly, it wasn’t the house that was haunted. It was her whole life.