Literature Horror Novels & Stories

“What are you waiting for? Do you need a bedtime story?” I chew back a smile. Settle against the headrest. “Why? Do you have any?” “Me?” “No— Weres. Us, I guess.” “Sure, but they’re bleak. Humans and Vampyres coming for us if we nip our teachers too hard. The gods of nature toying with their beastly children. Cosmic horror— that kind of shit.” “Wow. Do children like them?” “I didn’t. Had nightmares about them for years.” I nod slowly. “That explains it.”

Food did not taste like anything anymore, sleep would not come no matter how exhausted I was, and when it did, I’d wake up gasping, searching for him in the darkness. Something was breaking inside me. No, that’s not right. Something was already broken. I shoved the library door open and stepped inside, desperate. I had been here every night, pouring over books, old texts, even folklore sections I would have laughed at months ago. But now? I’m not laughing. I’m tearing through pages, flipping between stories about werewolves, packs, bonds, rituals, anything that could explain what was happening to me. And the more I read, the more horrifyingly clear it became.

Andro has to fight to stay by his mate's side and fight off the new enemy waging a war against his family; his mafia family while protecting his identity as a vampire. CHAPTER ONE Annika’s POV In the chant of the black night, the stars were the choir, they were nights singing in an unusual pattern, singing a tone of death. Few minutes past ten, the once-cleared skies had transformed into a vast expanse of jet-black as the night laid down in a blanket of darkness.

'Lord, I hope not. He watched as the strange mist captured the world outside the windows of the library's main hall. It began to rise and thicken until the sunlight fled and the room was held in darkness. He could hear the beasts on the portico, their soft steps and heavy breath a sound of threatening to their helpless prey. He felt his chest tighten, and he began to slowly push himself backwards, away from the doors and the the bloodthirsty horror of the animals behind them. He glanced back at the fire which burned in the bronze brazier behind him.

“No doubt.” “What about those two small FedEx boxes?” “Most recent novels from Samhain Horror.” “Awesome. Those books I bought at the Webb County Library sale last week?” “Sorted into general and mystery fiction. Struck the mother lode with all those Mary Higgins Clark novels.” “We cater to all tastes, miss. Unless you like Twilight, 50 Shades of Gray or James Patterson. Folks want drivel, they can drive to Utica.” “Hey. I actually liked Twilight. It wasn’t all bad.”

She walked to the whiteboard, picked up a marker, and wrote in large capital letters, the word IMMORTALITY. "I understand that next week you will be moving away from Shakespeare and jumping into Gothic horror literature ... just in time for Halloween." General interest spiked. Halloween was a favorite holiday for most students. Me? My life was already a nightmare. Who needed costumes when real monsters were already roaming our town? "By any chance, has anyone read The Picture of Dorian Gray by Oscar Wilde?" asked Mrs. Jackson. Students looked around at each other, but no one raised their hand. "How about Bram Stoker's Dracula?"

But the light was very weak, it made the corridor seem like it stretched for eternity. Uri looked at the hazy space in front of her, subconsciously remembering the usual corridors of hotels or apartment buildings in horror movies. Although there were lights, the last point could not be seen clearly, the surrounding space therefore also became strangely murky. At times like these, from the darkness will suddenly appear the silhouettes of white shirts or some bloody horror face.

The view outside the window is nothing special—just the usual hustle and bustle of the city—but it is enough to distract me from the strange mix of emotions swirling inside me. I lean back, letting out a long breath as I try to calm my racing thoughts. The bouquet is still on my mind, but I force myself to focus on the stack of books I brought home. There are ten of them, neatly piled on the table, and for the first time in my life, I have decided to try reading a horror novel. The idea makes me laugh a little, though it is a nervous laugh. I hope I do not end up screaming so loudly that my baby decides to make an early entrance into the world.

I was glad I won’t stand out too much. We arrive at Xander’s house after a few minutes. His house was more of a dark side kind of house. It was gothic and gave you the creeps. Old cold men stood as statues lining up the way to the front door. Music thumped inside the house. It felt like a high school monster party. Okay maybe I watch too much Ant farm and paranormal movies. This would be a good beginning for a horror story where Zombies come attacking. No, zombies don’t have brains to plot this. Better yet, Vampires.

Samurai and Other Stories by William Meikle Stuck On You and Other Prime Cuts by Jasper Bark Poetry collections: WAR by Alessandro Manzetti and Marge Simon Brief Encounters with My Third Eye by Bruce Boston No Mercy: Dark Poems by Alessandro Manzetti Eden Underground: Poetry of Darkness by Alessandro Manzetti If you’ve ever thought of becoming an author, we’d also like to recommend these non-fiction titles: The Dead Stage: The Journey from Page to Stage by Dan Weatherer Where Nightmares Come From: The Art of Storytelling in the Horror Genre, edited by Joe Mynhardt and Eugene Johnson Horror 101: The Way Forward, edited by Joe Mynhardt and Emma Audsley Horror 201: The Silver Scream Vol.1 and V