Houses Of Horror Book Novels & Stories

Finally, she found the one she was looking for. Layla managed to grab the book and add it to her stack in her arms when her eyes caught sight of something. A book stood out among the rest. It was bound with dark brown leather and had brandished designs on the spine. The title read - Malleus Vampiro: A Treatise on Vampires. Placing her other books on the floor, Layla pulled the leather-bound book from its home amongst the others and opened it. As her eyes skimmed the pages, she caught a couple of words; SHADOW STALKERS, BLOODSUCKER, PHANTOMS.

I found myself in the middle of two separate homes and I needed no one to point out which one was mine. Walking towards the one in the west wing, I smiled when I saw the words written on top of the front door in our native tongue. Beware of the shadows that come out during the day. It was plain but cryptic enough for all those in our family. We all knew why those words were written in front of my mother’s pack house and my father’s palace. But we never talk about it or explain it to anyone. It was better that way. I walked into my home and that was when I realized Uncle Hephaestus had really outdone himself again.

His presence was tense, as if he was waiting for something to move in the shadows. “Black magic,” he murmured, reaching for a book with gold-edged pages. The cover had a strange sigil, one that pulsed faintly under the dim lighting. I frowned. “This place… it doesn’t feel right.” It wasn’t just the books. There were jars placed on a nearby table—each containing murky liquids and unidentifiable objects floating within. Some looked like dried-up hearts, others like small, shriveled hands. I swallowed hard. Hades exhaled sharply. “It’s worse than I expected.”

She was there. Waiting. Her eyes moved over me once. Then she nodded. “Better.” I didn’t respond. I just stood there. Something still felt… off. I looked toward the hallway again. Then back at her. “What are those books?” I asked. Her expression didn’t change much. “What books?” “The ones in the other room.” A pause. Not long. But enough. “That room is not for you,” she said. Her voice didn’t rise. But it wasn’t open either.

I had no choice, so I dug through every gift Zoe had ever given me, but I found nothing. Just when I was about to give up, I shook a pillow, and a tiny paper figure floated out. Its face was drawn to resemble Lucas, and his birth details were written on the back! The fortune teller exclaimed, “That’s it! The lock and the paper figure work together, and since you've touched the lock, the effect on you is stronger. Luckily, you found it early.” I broke out in a cold sweat. That same day, I slipped the paper figure under Miles’ pillow and instructed my parents to watch him while he slept.

The books here were faintly covered in dust. As he reached out to the top shelf, his eyes fell on a familiar thick black book lying on the floor. The Art Of The Body. Before he could stop himself, his eyes flicked up and locked with Scarlett. She didn't look away, but a deep blush gradually spread across her cheeks. That book brought back memories, and for a moment, he forgot the unspoken tension between them. He looked away finally and pulled out several dusty books from the shelf. Two were about old werewolves, one about vampires, and the last one was about witches.

He had only read about the Hous, a kind of strange beast, in an ancient book, the Bizzare Story, but he had never seen one in person. Now, he had a chance to widen his knowledge. "Rarrrrrgh!" As soon as Evil Moon appeared, those Hous, who were either hovering or sleeping, all looked stunned. They looked up with cold light in their eyes and growled.

Shaking her head, she said, "But aren't you only like that because you idiotically accepted an accursed book from a nobody? You said, you don't even believe in ghosts before you got that." He sighed and took out the book which always appeared inside his pocket for several months now. The book was giving off a mysterious vibe due to its black worn-out cover featuring a faceless monster. He got it from a fake friend who had styled himself as a book collector. Nathan was a horror writer so he accepted the creepy book. His initial objective was only to look for more ideas and inspiration. Who would have thought the horror writer who never believed in ghost would suddenly start seeing creepy ghos

"Good thing your number will never be called — you're too ugly." "Yes, Mother." I wanted to scream in outrage. She was gorgeous! Even in the dream, I could see the purity of the blood, taste the goodness on my lips. A house appeared in the distance. It was poorly lit. The shutters were falling from the windows, and the porch steps had seen better days. The foundation crumbled beneath the heaviness of the home, making it appear depressing. I took the steps two at a time and found myself in Genesis's room. She had books everywhere. Books about vampires, werewolves, and sirens. Then finally, Dark Ones.

I could only hope that she would have settled in again by tonight, because otherwise I would be allowed to sleep on the couch one night again - and it was really uncomfortable. Sighing, I leaned back and opened the completely tattered book again, which I actually already knew by heart. But I wanted to repeat as much as possible today so that I could get off to a good start tomorrow. I ran my finger over the familiar table of contents. Foreword, evolution, instinct, social life, physiology, reproduction, ancestry, stem groups and subspecies. How many times had I made this movement with my finger? I couldn't count it anymore, but it was like a little ritual I had to go through before I could s