Long Scary Stories To Write Novels & Stories

I was the girl who poured their drinks, cleaned up their crumbs, stood off to the side with my head low. But I listened. Every night, I listened. And my favorite stories—the ones that sent chills down my spine—were about the rogues. Greywin would say, “They don’t walk like us. They stalk. They don’t breathe like us. They sniff, they growl. And when you hear a branch break in the middle of the forest, child, don’t run… they already know where you are.” I remembered the way the girls would huddle closer, giggling but scared. But I wasn’t giggling. I was barely breathing. I always held my tray tighter and leaned closer to hear more.

Like I was part of something bigger than myself. "You sure?" Axel asked. "I'm sure." "The compound isn't exactly I*******m-worthy." I looked around the simple office. Concrete walls, basic furniture, the smell of leather and motor oil drifting in from the garage. "Maybe that's what I need." --- That evening, I posted my first story. A video of me sitting in what looked like a coffee shop, talking about childhood fears and small-town legends. I mentioned growing up where people believed in monsters. How that shaped your worldview.

I moved my head and felt something brush my cheek. That was weird.When I tried to raise my hand and grab the thing, I realized that I couldn’t do it. Something was preventing me from moving my limbs. I frowned and tried to move my hand again, but once more it was stopped by some restraints.A sudden panic overwhelmed me, and my thoughts started swimming in the worst scenarios possible. I was kidnapped, and they were going to sell me. They were going to kill me. I was already dead.I wanted to scream, but my mouth was covered with fabric. I wanted to move, but I was tied to the bed.

They entered the house one by one through the window. It was pitch black inside. They turned on their flashlights and lighted up the living room which was full of dust and old things. The atmosphere of the house was very spooky, and only their steps broke the silence inside. Luna felt increasingly pressured and she began to feel something unexplained. "I feel like there are a lot of eyes watching us," she said quietly. Max just laughed, "Stop being so dreamy, Luna. Are you pretending to be a Nancy Drew?" Luna snorted in annoyance at Max.

Looked like Loren had gotten carried away, Ria thought. "You know, of all the ghosts, the most dangerous are the ones that carry grudges and regrets…" Loren rambled on again. Ria started to think that Loren liked horror topics like this. "What do you mean?" Ria responded while reading through some of the articles she found earlier. “I have a story that my mother firsthand experienced. She once rented an old house that was haunted by a spirit full of regret and anger that almost brought her to an terrible accident…” Loren had already started preparing her story when Ria noticed that the clock already indicated that their next class was about to start.

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.

He wrote about them based on the myths that he had heard, read, and gathered while continuing his daily life. "Van, open the door!" He groaned and got up from his seat. "What do you want? I’m writing." Van answered with no soul in his voice. He never let go of his passion for writing. Unfortunately, there was barely anyone wanting to buy any of his recent books. His patrons who used to buy his work say that his recent ones are too scary to be read as a children’s tale and too alarming to be enjoyed by adults. Still, he continued to write about those creatures unknown to men, lurking in the dark and waiting for the perfect victim.

.. Tales of vampires and ghosts can only be seen in movies or in mystery books created by authors with deep imaginary thinking. They are Made up stories and nothing more. Maybe I was wrong! I tried to control my nerves but heavy fear gripped me. I shined the torchlight towards the direction of the noise but nothing looked odd. I swallowed hard and took a minute to gather my nerves before taking another step forward.

I’m sure everyone knows somethings going on between us but I’m starting not to care. “It’s time to tell ghost stories!!” Becca announces. Anybody got a good one? Everyone looks around but no one volunteers. “Oh shit! What about that night we watched the Gremlins.” Michael says I know exactly what he’s talking about. One of the scariest nights of our lives. “Oh man that was scary tell it Becca!” Christopher yells and everyone’s intrigued. “Rosalie tells it best she remembers the details better because she’s older.” Becca says

" She said and I rolled my eyes slightly. “What do you think I am, 5?? I can't get scared from the letters in the pages of a book plus the real world is a lot scarier than any content that can be found in a book." I said and at that moment I thought about what nearly happened to me some days back. Almost getting raped is like a scene straight out from a horror movie, it's by far the most scariest thing I could think of and I am glad I was able to come out of it with only a bitter taste in my mouth and not an actual emotional scar that would last forever...