Horrors In This House Novels & Stories

It’s obvious what everyone fears in West River. The scream leads us to the house across the street from the infamous cult house. It’s been years since stepping foot into that cursed house. It’s still run down with crumbling steps and overgrown weeds. I can still see the face of the man as he pleads for us to wait, to take whatever information he can give us. There’s no pausing, blinking, breathing as we march up the steps of the immaculate house and barge inside. The door slams open to reveal a woman on her knees. Her head snaps up at our unexpected arrival and I stumble a couple of steps back.

Are you sure? "Why? Are you scared?" I asked him, smirking. "No." I brought back my grin. "Good." I excitedly pulled him to the entrance of the horror house. But the excitement I felt faded and was replaced by fear when we finally got inside. "Oh, shit!" I automatically held on to Lenos' arms. I didn't expect this place would be this creepy inside. The truth is, this is the first time I get to enter a horror house. I really thought everything I had seen on TV was just pure exaggeration so I didn't expect that it would really be this creepy inside.

“This is the first meal we’re eating together as a family here in Los Angeles, a new city and a new state. Can we dig in already?” A loud growl from somewhere interrupted his speech, and they all stood up abruptly, surprised by whatever had made such a loud screeching sound. “Dad, did you buy us a haunted house?” Willie fussed, her eyes wide enough to pop out of their sockets. “Your sister bought the house. I only searched for it,” he replied, his eyes scanning the vicinity for further intrusion from whatever had made such an unpleasant noise. “I thought you said no one bought the house above us. I mean, we are supposed to be alone in this gigantic, perfectly beautiful house bought by Calist

"Are you sure you can do my house? You don't hold a grudge against me, do you? It wouldn't be funny if the design of my house was destroyed because the interior designer I used was my ex who still holds a grudge." "Grudge.?" Yara laughed when she heard that. "Yara, I'm serious. My future wife can't get involved in this interior design matter because she doesn't understand, she leaves it completely to me. And I don't want to let her down." Yara's heart felt like it was being squeezed. No, not because she still loves Adam. She just couldn't accept seeing Adam live happily. And what did he say? Future wife? The man already has a future wife, building a house that they will live in together. Mea

I looked up. The house stood warmly lit, glowing against the dark like something pulled from a storybook. Windows shone softly. A porch light cut through the falling snow, illuminating the path to the door. It looked inviting in a way that felt unreal. Too warm. Too safe. Too significant for something that was supposed to be temporary. I swallowed, nerves and disbelief tangling in my chest. And followed them inside. “Well,” I said lightly, because humour was my coping mechanism. “This is how horror movies start.”

I call out. " No, I'll be up in a second. Sorry I'm taking a while I had to use the bathroom too. " 6 No ones supposed to be in the house, of course this is the pack house, but the other pack members have other houses they live at and aren't in this house at night. Normally in horror movies searching for what made sounds or anything out of the ordinary is a bad thing. You'd yell at the screen, " Don't go in there! ", knowing they would anyway. Well, it's my turn.3

I’d heard there were places where you could rent the tapes for a lot less than what they cost to buy, but it hadn’t changed my mind. I started towards the doorway with the curtain but stopped short by the tapes next to it. This section was at least twice the size of all the others. The covers of these boxes were all screams and knives. Bloody chainsaws and heaving breasts. The sign resting here was carefully drawn in black gothic type letters, each dripping red: “Horror.” Hanging by a piece of tape off every other shelf were letter-sized flyers exactly like the ones that man was putting on windshields out at the Farm and Fleet. I peeled one off to get a closer look.

THERE’S SO MUCH. TATE LANGDON, AMERICAN HORROR STORY 20-MARCH-1930 A family newly moved to Vineyard from the city after facing a couple of hard time. They thought it best to come to a secluded small town and live a cheap normal life but little did they know the house they moved into experienced a terrific incident. Three years before the family moved in, there was once a happy family—the owners of the house, they lived happily till one day all the family members died during their sleep. This continued to happen to every family that moves into the house

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?”

(Isabella’s POV) The safe house was a tomb, filled with the ghosts of a life that wasn't mine. Dust sheets covered the heavy, ornate furniture, and the air was thick with the stale, stagnant scent of time. The brutal, adrenaline fueled escape from Bianchi’s gala felt a world away, but the true horror of the night was just beginning to settle in my bones, a cold, creeping dread that no locked door could keep out.