Long Horror Stories Novels & Stories

He rarely leaves the coven back then because a witch is pretty useless without his magic. The last creatures, and probably the ones with the least regard for morality, are the vampires. The undead. Vampires have always been the topic of the bedtime stories to scare the children in the coven. Growing up, Hiro had heard all of what they could do, how they did it. And he knows every word of it is true. Vampires are ruthless, they fear no gods nor goddesses. Once the daytime fades and bleeds into nighttime, they terrorize the city with their fangs and bloodlust.

It infuriated Cassy more—with the night that’s the homecoming of the ghosts and horrors. A wicked laugh itched to be out, instead, she scrutinized the height. The distance between her and the ground did not harrow her. It amazed her at how different she’s lurking around where the normal people might not even stare without a wave of nausea washing over them. An urge to smoke-filled her; she fetched a pack from the inside pocket of her dark blue jacket; ignited the flame, mumbling, “Every legendary story is a pent-up frustration of human beings to invoke fear in the minds of those whom they hate. Several against one or one against many.”

Patty groaned with visible frustrations on her face. " Let's just tell some horror stories." My eyes lightened up as I hear horror stories. I love horror stories too. Sheena usually tells me something about horrors. At first, I'll cover my ears and pretend I didn't hear anything from her but sooner it wonders me and catch my interest. I sometimes read one-shot horror stories.

I asked her curiously as I sat comfortably on her couch and the three of them sat on the big one adjacent to mine. "Well, I believe that there's nothing to be scared of. The ghosts, vampires, witches, and werewolves are just in the books. Right? Fiction. Not real." My oblivious girlfriend explained, and that made the three of us, supermarket beings, look at each other. If you just knew, Pryce. None of us here is purely human. "Uh, yeah, yeah. They're just in the books. Horror books. They are a product of one's creative minds… and to scare people." Sander agreed with her best friend. Now, I really don't know how we will tell Pryce about the whole truth.

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.

“Oh, so you won’t come out? Fine. Then I’ll smash all your d*mn flowers!” He stormed forward and stomped the flowers into pieces. At that moment, I suddenly remembered something Lucas once told me. In horror games, players who refused to participate usually died horribly. Back then, I thought he was just making up stories, but it seemed like maybe I really should’ve believed him. “Sir, wait, don’t–” Before I could finish my sentence, the crushed flowers suddenly regenerated. On top of that, they grew larger and larger until the enormous petals swallowed the man whole. A scream rang out, and then silence fell. All that remained on the ground were two severed limbs and a pool of blood.

The next second, the Patchwork Monster tore the man in half. He tossed the body outside casually. Just then, a crisp, bell-like voice sounded outside. “It’s after work hours, who’s so rude as to be throwing bodies around?” A young girl with three heads and eight arms appeared at the doorway. With just one look at the shop, anger filled her voice, and her hair stood on end. “Who the hell had a death wish and smashed the Number One Must-Eat shop in the entire horror game?”

The air in the library was thick with the scent of old books and the faint hum of fluorescent lights. Sadile Marconi, her fiery red hair cascading over her shoulders like a river of flames, sat at a secluded table, her green eyes darting between the pages of her textbook and the clock on the wall. The numbers seemed to mock her, ticking away the minutes until her next class, a class she was dangerously close to failing.

Chloe asked in a soft voice. “Lively feasts… I bet it smelled so good…” The little hungry ghost licked his lips. “Granny, you’ve had it rough,” grumbled the poltergeist. Meanwhile, the livestream comments were going wild. [Guys, I’m emotionally wrecked! I’m watching a wholesome family drama in a horror game!] [Sniff… Granny’s story hits so hard, I’m missing my own granny from back home!] [Help! I can’t believe I’m crying my eyes out over a horror game!]

“What else have you heard?” Too much. Too much poison dressed up as bedtime stories. Garrett Monroe—my father, the only family I had left—used to slur those horror tales into my ears whenever he was drunk. Stories about sharp-toothed beasts who dragged children from their beds and devoured them whole. Creatures who wore human skin by day but hunted by moonlight. At the time, I thought he was warning me. Trying to protect me in his own twisted, broken way. But now? Now I don’t know.