Long Spooky Stories Novels & Stories

“Oh. So if I want a pudding, all I smell is that?” He nodded, leaning forward on the table. “Yes.” “When you said other paranormal,” My thoughts went to Connor and Reed. “Did you mean fairies, vampires, ghosts, satyr and werewolves?” All the people in the room audibly gasped and turned their heads to our table, fear written on their faces. I looked around nervously and flinched. Uncle Al shot out of his seat. “Sorry about that,” he chuckled then said, “there are no Forbidden here.”

Red snuggled closer to Reed, breathing in his intoxicating cologne while his fingers traced electrifying circles on her hip. She couldn't help but feel extremely horny to be sharing such a kinky experience like this with him. “Today is October 20th, 2020. Our fucking 20th birthday. We are the freaking spooky kids. Why the fuck should we be intimidated by anything?” Light’s deep voice pierced the eerie silence. His cold expression held no traces of fear as he glanced between his friends, from the couple among them to those who were always at each other's throats.

And I didn’t expect her to fucking torture me with that image. I want to lose myself in her right now, but I also want to see that gleam in her eye when she learns something new. I take a deep breath. I promised myself a real shot with her, so ghost stories it is. But damn, it’s gonna be one hell of a long night. “Can you die from blue balls?” Hendrix mocks. “Ready to explore the supernatural tales of Waterloo?” She asks, biting her lip, her voice filled with excitement. “I’ve grown up around these legends, remember?” I say, still trying to pull myself together.

77 in cash. The ghost story doesn't end. It just multiplies.

The light illuminated the space, full of old objects and stacked boxes. As she walked, a loose floorboard creaked beneath her feet. She bent down to see what it was and, with some effort, lifted the board. She found an old book, covered in dust, with a leather cover filled with drawings of supernatural creatures. Scarlett’s heart began to race; something about the book drew her in, as if it held secrets waiting to be discovered.

The host chuckled, masking a hint of envy in her voice. "Welcome to 81.9 GistFM, I'm Aaaa-manda, and we're ready to delve into something spooky today. Though Halloween isn't here yet, we'll be discussing the supernatural, including Vampires, Werewolves, Ghosts, and even Witches. If young ones are tuned in, you might want to switch off the radio. But first, let's get down to business - do you believe in these supernatural entities? Miranda halted.

In 1983 a Mrs Carson of New York was laid out in our coffin, presumed dead of hear disease. As mourners watched, she suddenly sat up, alive as you or I. Unfortunately her daughter dropped dead of fright on the spot. I don't own any of this stories. I found them in some creepy books. I'm thinking of writing my own scary stories, but not anytime soon. You can send me your short stories for a feature if you feel like it. Thanks for reading. Enjoy!I don't own any of this stories. I found them in some creepy books. I'm thinking of writing my own scary stories, but not anytime soon.

*Centuries ago, a time where Vampires, sphinx and werewolves lived together in peace, love and harmony, until evil covered the cloud of Transylvania* My name is Luther, I'm a vampire from the old world, I am over 400 years old, I lived in Transylvania, my father was the over Lord (Dracula) my mom was a werewolf (Tania) from Romania (another city where werewolves and other creatures live) but died 200 years after my younger sisters' birth, her name is Annabelle, she is 300 years old, I was to be dad's successor but everything changed when my father was killed, it was the day of my inauguration, we were ambushed by our own people, sects of disloyal elves and Sphinx, and it all turned out to b

"And I tell them stories." "What kind of stories?" Herb said. This was the part that had gotten him out of bed early on a Saturday morning (his only day off from selling mattresses the rest of the week) to come over here. Willie had mentioned stories when Herb got after him for being late coming home so often. It seemed they made quite an impression on the kid, but when Herb asked what kind of stories they were Willie clammed up. The Brookwood woman shrugged. "You know: ghost stories. The kind children like. Mostly ones my grandmother told me when this was her home. I could tell you one, if you like? So you'll see that they're not so bad."

Jones stared at Claire as she whispered, “What happened next?” Suddenly, she was a little girl again. He used to tell her scary stories about werewolves, vampires, fae, and warlocks. May hated it, but he couldn’t say no when his little niece looked up at him with big eyes and asked so politely for a story. He would always stopped at the climax, sighed dramatically, and say that it’s too scary. She would grab his hand and say she wasn’t scared, that she would be brave. She would ask, so excited, “What happened next?”