Horrorstor Novels & Stories

Satisfied that he was fine; I returned to the room of gore and managed to get a few answers from my parents as to what happened. My first question was to ask if they called the police. No, they had not. I then proceeded to ask them if they knew who had done such a horrid thing to Lisa. Yes, they certainly did know. It was my former—dead roommate, Frank. He broke into the house and insisted on taking Bobby with him. He told my parents that I was a vampire lover and that my child was a vampire. When I asked why my father thought I could help Lisa, he informed me that Frank claimed Geoffrey was a handler and handlers only married handlers. Therefore, I had to be a handler too.

I guess I'll have some good sleep rather watching that not-so-horror movie. I turned off the lights and was just about to lie down when I saw a shadow at my window and it just vanished the next second. Okay! I guess the movie wasn't that bad as I was saying otherwise why would I imagine something like this? I'm definitely hallucinating because of those scary scenes, plus why would someone stalk me? Besides this area is safe, no thiefs can enter here due to high security. I shrugged off thinking it to be my imagination and lied down covering myself with blacket till my neck.

They were midway across the path, in front of a cemetery when suddenly graves started opening. "What is going on?" Isabella asked, clutching onto Chris tightly. Chris was suddenly sweating so furiously but Ariel was cool and her face was blank and devoid of any emotions. They stood there watching six tombs open and six scary-looking ghosts walked out. Isabella was already whitish in appearance knowing who they are. Chris's hairs were all up and his eyes green, his normal sight nature. "GREETINGS TO THE SPECIAL ONE." One of them muttered. "GREETINGS TO THE LITTLE GODDESS." Another muttered.

Published by Audio Arcadia in 2016 were DarkFire at the Edge of Time, Farnsworth’s collection of visionary science fiction stories, Nightworld, A Novel of Virtual Reality, and two collections of stories, The Black Arts and Black Secrets. Jorge Arenas Born in 1986, I come from Rio Piedras Puerto Rico. Due to my family's military nature I traveled the United States a great deal and that's where I found my passion, urban legends. Studying these brought me to another subject, horror. As I threw myself into the genre I found worlds that mirrored our own and experiences that I could feel in my soul. The books, movies and video games became my go to since I was young, and they continue to entertain

The problem I’m having is this: If I allow myself even the slightest bit of wiggle room for the veracity of Father Ward’s story in this journal, the door is opened wide for all sorts of other things. Like a child-devouring demon named Moloch or Baal. An odd yellow taxi and odder coins bearing a strange design popping up all over town. A ghostly boy maybe born of a man’s deep pain and self-loathing. A strange place called Carcosa—with black skies and even blacker stars—where it seems lost people go when they’ve nowhere else. Someone or something named Hastur (a name which runs cold shivers down my spine even thinking it).

Horror struck me like lightning, and I knew then that my worst fears had come true - my old pack and family had been brutally wiped out. “Hallie get back here now.” Hugh ordered me as he and Alpha Arnie chased after me, attempting to calm me down, but it was too late. I was already consumed by a need to uncover the truth. Ignoring their calls, I sprinted onward, disappearing into the maze of corridors within Moonstone Manor. Each corner I turned revealed more and more lifeless bodies, my heart breaking with every sight. The hallways felt suffocating, as though every step I took was leading me deeper into a twisted nightmare.

I left it charging, so they could use it for as long as they wanted, and if what ghost hunters said was true, they could also draw energy from the battery at the same time. Back to the kitchen, I put to cook, wondering what I could watch over dinner. YouTube kept suggesting me a compilation of the best paranormal evidence captured by the infamous Haunters. No matter how many times I tapped the option to not show it anymore, it kept popping up. So after checking there was nothing interesting to watch anywhere else, I decided I could always have a good laugh and sat to have dinner and watch the rockstars scream like little girls. The moment Brandon Price started his weird off-camera narration,

I don’t even want to tell her about the exhausting day that I had. “…” She gave me a hard and piercing stare that meant she wants to hear everything even if I don’t want to tell her. “A monster killed one of my co-teachers. It’s called a winged-ghoul and it could detach its torso from its legs. I’ve never heard of one or even seen one before but it apparently feed on pregnant women.” “Oh my, how dreadful is that. Did it hurt you?” “No, I said I’m fine. We easily killed the thing.”

"Then no." They worked in easy silence after that. The store was narrow, crammed with secondhand fiction, occult guides, poetry chapbooks, and weirdly specific memoirs no one asked for but somehow still sold. Aria loved it. The smell, the hush, the way time bent in corners when you were surrounded by too many lives stacked on dusty shelves. A box waited behind the counter. Niko tapped it. "From some estate guy. Might be haunted." "Everything in here might be haunted."

This was the punishment. At some point, green smoke crept in without warning. The temp plummeted. I shivered, and he slipped off his cloak, wrapping it around me. "Don't be afraid," he murmured. Afraid? Not even close. My perception glitch had me kind of... hyped. "They're back!" Mia yelled. "Grandpa and Grandma are back!" The door creaked open. Two shriveled elders shuffled in. Chat Feed went wild: [It's them. The revenants. Nobody survives past this.]