Literature Horror Novels & Stories

I can play you songs and read you audiobooks…’ ‘Okay. Okay, Alexa. If you can’t get me to work or get me food, you’re pretty much useless.’ She jabbed. ‘Technically, I can order an uber and pizza. McDonald’s and Starbucks too.’ ‘This is so cool. Maybe, you could read me an audiobook just before I fall asleep tonight.’ ‘What kind of books do you like?’ the VA asked. ‘Young Adult, romance, horror, mystery, crime…’ ‘According to a recent survey, people who read lots of horror tend to act out what they read. Often times, they try to imitate the villain in the book and…’

There were a few articles of clothing littering the floor, but Lissa quickly picked those up and placed them in the hamper on the inside of Rose's closet. There were a few non-textbook books sitting on her desk, the subjects ranged from mythical dragons and spy academies, to the psychology of serial killers and a few classics. I'm not sure what surprised me more, the fact that Rose had read The Picture of Dorian Gray or that she seemed to have a fascination with serial killers. Knowing Rose's intelligence level, I decided it was the serial killers. I picked up one of the books on the most macabre killers to exist, trying to ignore Lissa digging in Rose's underwear drawer as she pulled out br

Lady Tatya lounged about in her chambers, reading a horror novel. This was one of her favorite genres. She loved the thrills, the twists, the terrifying reality that burst through the pages. But most of all, she loved the creativity. So many ways to die, so many ways to make someone fall on their own sword. Tatya turned the page with such vigor, she almost ripped it. Yes, this was the moment in the story where the characters were cornered and trapped by the monster, the monster that had a million ways to torture them. Skinning, drowning, beheading… all wonderful ways to cause someone’s death.

All the bright airiness of the day faded, evil darkness fell over it like a velvet veil and all that was left was the low lighting on the corridor that threw long spooky amber flickers across the polished floor, reflecting in one of the marble statues. The creature stops in the shadows, its body shifting back to solid in a dizzying surge of unexpectedly fleshed out bones and skin, the creature presses its back against the library door deeper in the darkness, listening and hearing its enchanting phrases against the power of the proud library where it would have been absolute defend for the amber color tinge by the exit light.

“…the lady in the shadows…the one who watches you and wants you dead…” As the little girl's words from her vision swept over her,Beth felt a sense of terrifying unease. It was a coincidence,she told herself,nothing more.It was impossible that the little girl and Marcus could be speaking of the same thing,it was just impossible! “The lady in the shadows?”she said,her hands trembling in fear. In her mind she saw herself lying cold and frozen in that casket.

“Castle. Vampires. Throne with issues.” “Vampires,” he echoed. “Right. Should’ve expected that.” He tilted his head. “You write horror?” I blinked. “What?” “You said ‘horror,’” he pointed out. “Unless you meant your life, in which case—relatable.” A reluctant smile tugged at my mouth. “Both, technically,” I said. “But yes. I… wrote horror. Online mostly. Short stories. Flash. Some longer stuff. Nobody important read them.” “Clearly somebody did,” he said, gesturing vaguely at the bus, the windows, the [KEY AUTHOR CANDIDATE: FLAGGED] that had flso long ago. “But hey, that’s metal. My mom hated scary movies; she’d have lost her mind over you.”

I stayed with Adley in her small living room, watching horror movies about creatures that didn’t exist in this world, until darkness smothered the outside world, peeking in through the sheer curtains that made their living room feel all too exposed. “Zombies always give me the creeps.” Adley shuddered, “There’s something so scary about coming back from the dead, having your face and limbs rot like that. Bleh, no thank you.” “I can’t be afraid of zombies, not when things like ghouls and Librarian’s exist.” I let out a hearty laugh, trying to imagine a hoard of zombies maneuvering through the forest at night.

“Yes, horror is the only modern genre that’s as fatalistic as classical tragedy. But one is considered by critics to be the pinnacle of fiction and the other is considered the nadir.” “You know you get the cutest little furrow in your brow when you get all serious.” “Blow me,” said Sam chucking a zippo at Jimmy’s head. “Only if you furrow your brow for me.” Jimmy took a hit from the bong and said, “You’ve thought quite a bit about this haven’t you?” “Yeah, I have. It means something y’know. The ancients used mythology as a way of exploring a lot of important, unspoken things about their lives. The closest thing we have to that is horror, it’s our way of exploring the unspoken matters in life

Jessica's voice went dead serious. "This manor has thirty floors. The monsters on the lower floors? They're simple. Predictable. They work on pure instinct. Learn their patterns, and you can survive. Treat them like traps. But the higher you go... the ones at the top are a different breed entirely. They won't just kill you. They'll shatter your sanity in seconds. They'll show you what true terror really is." "She's right," Brad chimed in, his smile turning predatory.

“Were these any help, detective?” “I’m afraid not,” I said, defeated. I was in a bit of a daze after staring at projected newsprint on the dim screen. I leaned on the desk and looked around the building absentmindedly until my eyes finally settled on a small sign hanging on a table covered with a neat stack of books. “Warning: The Library is Not Responsible for Nightmares!” I read out loud, walking over to look at the books. Well-worn volumes with pink skulls grinning back at me from stickers on their spines. Dracula. Frankenstein. The Invisible Man.