Long Scary Stories To Write Novels & Stories

By now, we’ve all had more than a few drinks, and we’re halfway between tipsy and passed out. “Let’s tell scary stories,” Laura, one of my friends, suggests. “Are you sure that’s a good idea?” Kara asks. “These woods are spooky at night. I have to be able to sleep, you know.” “Maybe we should call one of those hunky forest rangers for you,” I suggest with a laugh. “He’d better bring a friend,” Laura says. “Or twelve,” Diana, another friend of mine, adds. We all laugh, and Laura starts in on the first story about night walkers, ghostly figures who march through the forest.

“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.

It was late autumn when they arrived — the trees skeletal, the air thick with a kind of oppressive stillness that seemed to hum beneath the surface of the world. Emily Carter, a graduate student in folklore and urban legends, had heard the whispers about WildWood all her life. She had grown up just a few towns over and had spent years gathering the old stories: tales of the “vanishing patients,” the “howling trees,” and the “night doctors” said to stalk the forest paths. Determined to separate fact from myth, Emily organized an expedition for her thesis, enlisting a few brave companions:

Birdy nodded in agreement, "It is time for the ghost stories to begin and be spread. Stories of a pack of wolves that live nowhere but everywhere, who rescue the weak, broken, and unchampioned, taking those they rescue away with them and disappearing with no clues to who they are or where they came from." ​Three gods and one vampire nodded in agreement. "Let the fun begin. Go lay the groundwork to make the stories true when our wolves awake," Hyperion ordered. ​Cronos snickered, "This is going to be so much fun. I am glad Gaia is letting me loose to help lend credence to the stories." ​"What good are the stories without those needed to make them come true?" Bob wondered out loud.

I tilted the cover just enough to give them a glimpse. “A witch!” “There’s a kitty!” “Is it about ghosts?” The children scrambled off the adults’ laps and crowded closer. “Halloween is almost here. So today, I’m going to read you a story called *The Wonders of Halloween*.” The children eagerly began telling me about the Halloween decorations they had made at school. Before I knew it, even more of them had gathered around me. “Rin was a girl who was afraid of ghosts and the dark. That was why she could not understand why everyone else wanted to turn into ghosts—”

There was food everywhere, balloons I distinctly remembered telling her not to buy, and a giant cake sitting untouched on the counter because apparently turning nineteen was a national event. I stayed near the kitchen mostly. Safe distance. I was avoiding him. This morning's events still playing over in my head. He was different. Very different and I got scared. I didn't know what to do or who to talk to. Who am I kidding, who am I going to tell that I am scared of my best friend's nineteen year old son who I have been having sex with since last year. A woman who should know better. And yet all I could think about was being on my knees for a nineteen year old a few hours ago.

He spoke a few sentences with the author and in no time Nathan realized that Ley wanted to take advantage of his profession to spread the words around. It would still be horror. Elements of supernatural were okay to include in them. But the general would be one where the characters would make their believers have some conception of a certain belief. “Make it a rumor.” Ley said. “Rumor?” Nathan’s creative mind immediately conjured scenarios where several people who encountered ghosts in the street or in the hallway of haunted places would say these to their acquaintances, ‘Hey, do you know? If you speak of the name Ley Baler in your heart sincerely, you won’t meet any accident on the road, or

Besides, being around him gave her so many story ideas and she was itching to get them down. Lisa had never had a muse before; her stories had always come from within her. It was scary to think that the horrors she wrote about had been buried somewhere in her subconscious and she often wondered whether it made her a monster. What kind of sick person did she have to be to think up these things? But over the years she’d come to realize that getting the horrors out of her mind was what kept her sane.

Or if the weather was on the colder side, we’d sit deep within the woods hurtled around a warm campfire, marshmallows burning and scary stories flowing allowed tears to well in my eyes. Back then some story of a monster hiding in a cabin ready to eat people was the most frightening thing I had heard, but I was unaware of the real nightmare I would be faced with, I didn’t have a monster in a cabin hunting me, but a real life monster who was sat around that once happy campfire.

The bed slammed once, twice, and then a heavy silence fell over the house. Lena came right then. She shuddered, her body writhing against her own hand as a wave of heat crashed over her. She buried her face in the pillow to stifle her cries, her eyes wet and her heart racing at a terrifying speed. When the pulsing finally slowed, the silence that followed felt louder than any music.