Long Scary Stories Novels & Stories

He was lying face down, and face up, all at once. I live in that house now. I am the village "fixer." And every night, I listen to the scratching beneath the floorboards. I don't fear the ones that crawl. I fear the ones that wait. Because now I know that the most terrifying thing in the world isn't death—it’s a corpse that refuses to close its eyes.

As the stories got scarier, I noticed a few of the younger pack members huddling closer to their parents, seeking comfort and reassurance. Soon, it was my turn to share a story. Feeling the weight of the moment, I cleared my throat and began my tale. "In a small village, there was a haunted mansion. It was said that the spirit of a vengeful witch roamed the halls, seeking revenge on anyone who dared to enter her domain..." I let my imagination run wild, conjuring spine-chilling scenes and mysterious characters. The pack leaned in closer, their eyes wide with fascination, hanging onto every word I spoke. The suspenseful atmosphere made my heart race with excitement.

1, edited by Joe Mynhardt Fear the Reaper, edited by Joe Mynhardt For the Night is Dark, edited by Ross Warren Short story collections: Dead Reckoning and Other Stories by Dino Parenti Things You Need by Kevin Lucia Frozen Shadows and Other Chilling Stories by Gene O’Neill Varying Distances by Darren Speegle The Ghost Club: Newly Found Tales of Victorian Terror by William Meikle Ugly Little Things: Collected Horrors by Todd Keisling Whispered Echoes by Paul F. Olson

“Fine, we’ll let Hellfire tell us a ghost story.” “I don’t know any ghost stories,” I say. “What about you, Siren?” Venom asks her. “Nope.” “Well, then, it’s time the two of you become good at making up stories,” Intrigue says. For the next couple of hours, while Hacker and Sphinx work in the van, the rest of us make up ghost stories. I have to admit, Raptor is really good at making up scary stories and Intrigue is as well. Megan’s aren’t terrible, but Venom’s are, as they said, pretty stupid. I’m not sure mine are any better, but I made up one about the ghost that lives in the river, and it made everyone glance at the river we’re sleeping beside more than once.

And here I was, the unluckiest person alive. I just sat there, frozen stiff. Not because I wanted to, not because some invisible thing was holding me, but because my legs, these two things that carried me for nineteen years, just wouldn’t move anymore. They were stuck to the dusty floorboards, heavy and lifeless. My mind, though, was spinning like crazy with all sorts of scary thoughts. Alpha. Wolves. Real wolves. The kind with fur and sharp teeth and that hungry look of something that hunts. Not from fairy tales, those comfy bedtime stories where heroes always win. Not from Halloween movies, where the scares are fake and the monsters are always just some guy in a rubber mask. No, these were

“Oh? Well, get some rest. I won’t disturb you.” He raised a brow. “Did I say you were disturbing me? “ “Why no, but...” “I said you can talk to me as long as you want. So, talk about whatever you want until you get sleepy. I’m all ears.” I smiled. “I appreciate that.” He leaned back in his chair. “How long have you been afraid of c thunderstorms?” “Pretty much all my life. Hell, I don’t even like to drive in them. I’ll pull over on the side of the road and wait it out.”

"Your pussy will pay for what you did today for a long, long time." A shudder ran down Emma's spine. She should be scared of this guy she stabbed and he was still issuing threats. Who still had the strength to fuck her to orgasm while bleed. But she wasn't afraid. She was excited. She couldn't wait for what Romero would do to her next.

Without warning, she pushed both fingers deep inside me in one smooth thrust. I gasped loudly, my head falling back against the wall. Lena immediately covered my mouth with her free hand. “Shhh,” she hissed, eyes gleaming with wicked amusement. “You don’t want Maya to hear her precious best friend getting finger-fucked by her big sister, do you?”

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.

I cussed to myself and finally the third which we just watched horrifically get eaten by crocodiles. We have walked a mile now and something kept bugging me, I could hear Mike's heart pounding like drums. Mike was an average height man, with glasses bigger than his face, he knew much about tales and myths like some mountain elf he forgets to live in the present. "Are you good Mike?" I called out trying to beat the whistling of the jungle, "your heart has been beating so loud, I can barely hear myself speak" I added to loosen up the mood. "Are you crazy?" He snapped back "Have you not heard the rumours?" His panting increased. "You mean, the rumours that brought us here in the first place?" T