Jar Of Fears Novels & Stories

I gripped the delicate handle of my Earl Grey cup, the warmth a grounding contrast to the icy anger coiling in my stomach. He sat across the vast expanse of polished obsidian, an immovable statue carved from arrogance and worry. His dark eyes held that familiar, infuriating mix of command and… something else. Something that looked suspiciously like fear, which only made me angrier. “Fear of what? Me breaking?” Then, it hit.

My clammy skin goes cold, my fear scent erupting from my pores. Justus holds my hand tighter and swings our joined arms. “Whatever you’re afraid of, I am strong enough to kill,” he says, soft and sure. “And if I can’t, I have a pack behind me.”

Hugo responded to Evan’s questions. “Maybe, maybe not. They may not realise that we will head through there at all. If they even come through this close. Also, we aren’t sure if the Fear Mongers came through the portal this time around or broke out of some prison in pottery jars. If they came from the jars, then the second wave may happen years ago.” Larin said. “We found several shattered pottery jars in the old horse stables. There are several similar ones in the crypt we just left. Now I’m not familiar with trapping these creatures in jars. I didn’t know it was possible to do this. Maybe someone on this side of the portal figured it out but didn’t pass the information on to those on the o

She asked making Liam keep quiet since he couldn't face her and a great fear fell on him. "Opportunity comes but once, so take it when you don't know tomorrow. But being a scared little boy, you actually remained loyal and look how it turned out. You became a decoration and I had fun shooting was it Jay, Jace, July. Oh yes Julius Radomir, the little aged vampy who thinks his powerful and now his in a very cold cellar waiting to be six foot under the earth." She whispered to his ears making Liam to tremble in fear and shock.

I'm trapped. My skin crawls with such dread and my heart races with panic as my tormentor stalks toward me with a mug from the kitchen. It's black with a Chicago Bears logo across the front of it. Somehow, focusing on something so trivial makes it easier for me to suck precious air into my lungs. My hands shake when I see Bryce’s unchanged face and as he reaches me, his eyes scan over my body slowly, his mouth parts as he blatantly stares at my breasts. I shake uncontrollably, pricks of dread covering my skin. A black sheet is wrapped around my body and I thank God for that, though the sheet only covers the bottom half of my body.

Jarred declared. “Why am I last?” Hank grumbled. “Because you’re the least charming to me,” Jarred shot back with a smirk, already pulling the first card. “Alright. Sydney—greatest fear?” I didn’t hesitate. “No money.” Jarred shrugged. “Well, everybody fears that.” “My turn,” he said, picking his card. His grin widened. “How many rounds could I take?” Hade spat out a laugh. “Nope. Drink.” He poured tequila into a glass and shoved it toward Jarred.

She repeated it over and over again, holding back the beads of sweat that had soaked her temples. "Come on, help me just once," Zella thought. Her hand tried to open and turn the door knob, a small smile appeared framing her lips she managed to open the door. All the things she wanted to see were in front of her eyes. Zella felt hot and cold, she saw all the sharp weapons. Her feet kept approaching, the smell of blood was so obvious every corner of the room was full of things Zella had never imagined. The mascot head with its eyes out, Zella accidentally kicked a box. She knelt down and opened it slowly, what she imagined made Zella feel sick. A human heart stuffed into a glass jar. A box co

He coughed, blood escaping his lips. “Rachel…” he whispered. “She’s inside… fighting him.” “Him?” My heart lurched. “Who?” Jarred’s eyes flickered with fear. “One man… just one… but he’s a monster.” Confusion and rage churned within me. One man? How could one man wreak such havoc? I squeezed Jarred’s hand, promising I’d be back, and staggered to my feet, dread coiling in my gut as I stepped deeper into the pack house.

They flared, turned blue. Atop it lay relics - skulls, bones tied in red twine, black feathers, vials, small earthen pots, old knives, scary things that I had never seen before in my life. I stood breathless. Paralyzed. And then- I saw it. Another thing. A jar. Suspended above the altar, floating in mid-air. No wires. No chains. Just... hanging. Wrapped in a slow cyclone of black wind. I thought it was guarding it at first. But then I realized-

Jarl's presence, though unseen, was a constant in my life, his voice a rumble that could stir the soul. "I sensed your distress," he rumbled, his concern seeping through the very walls. I nodded, the remnants of the nightmare clinging to me like a second skin. "Just a nightmare," I admitted, the words tasting of fear and uncertainty. "It was about Amber," I confessed, the name a whisper, a ghost that lingered between us. "Fear is weakness. Fear is failure," Jarl intoned, his voice a mirror to my thoughts. "And I can feel fear all over you," he added, his words wrapping around me like a shroud.