Long Spooky Stories Novels & Stories

She found it funny to tell me horror stories before bed. I remembered once returning the favor. I told her about Terry the ghost, a boy who’d died in an accident on the street across from our house. Terry’s ghost wandered our neighbor’s house where his family had once lived. Mom hadn’t slept alone for weeks after that, and she never told me another horror story. My mom was like me in some ways—she was terrified of the paranormal, or anything religious. That’s why her engagement to Bill had been such a shock. But even Mom had gotten braver, so why couldn’t I?

Which made them more interested with the story. "Dad, what is Mr. Higgins talking about? What happened thirty years ago?" Nancy asked her father. They were also having dinner. "Nothing, sweetheart. It's okay." Her dad responded. "What the hell is that freak talking about?" Xavier asked his mother. "Don't mind him. Just keep eating. "Mom, do you know anything about what Mr. Higgins said?" Sara asked her mother. "I've read that story when we did some papers before graduation. You were in high school that time, right?"

So Polly too had had a freaky supernatural experience,because that was definitely where this story was leading. “What did she see?”Beth asked softly,both scared and intrigued to hear the answer. “She saw her,”Ethan said,motioning towards the portrait,”aimlessly walking about and finally vanishing at the top of the stairs.” “Ethan,are you pulling my leg?”Beth asked in a mock serious tone.”Ghost stories scare the living daylights out of me.” Ethan pulled her into a full embrace,burying his face in her hair.It felt so good being in his arms,feeling safe and wanted.

I don't even have his number! "Hello? Who's there?" I whispered. It was like a horror movie. The girl in the forest screaming and running for her dear life. Maybe it is Jordan. He is a douchebag but can he pull such a stunt just to scare me? One thing I learned from the horror movies I watch is never to scream and run so I backed away and tried to be in the shade because the moon was up and bright. I don't want to be spotted or watched by who may or may not be my predator.

It was just enough to make them believe it completely. Hence, they gradually stopped worrying about the 400,000-dollar debt. They did not realize they were like the frog in the pot. If a frog fell into boiling water, it would jump out immediately. However, if the water was heated slowly, it would not notice the danger until it was too late. They were like those two frogs now. I was the one controlling the water temperature. Their fate was in my hands. … That weekend, I packed my bag, got on a bus, and returned to the familiar little alley. Then, I heard someone shout.

Despite the fact that I can hear the anchor's voice loud and clear, I still increase the sounds of the television. Good thing Maverick was already snoring for him to hear the loud sounds of the news. "Our hero of New Orleans, Gaius Spencer, never ceases to surprise us again. This time, he went to a nightclub and made an unbelievable disappearance to save someone from getting killed." "We asked for Gaius' autograph." says the woman who recognized me in the club. "then, there is this weird bird that appeared out of nowhere and hopped onto his head. In a blink of an eye, Gaius turned into tiny bats and flew outside in a hurry."

“The World of the Unknown. A book to die for.” My mother used to tell me stories of Vampires, Werewolves, Demons, the Orramoths, and the worst of them all, the Darklings. Most of the creatures she told me they blew out of proportion. She said writers did this to make a dollar or two, and some did it to scare the shit out of their kids and make them listen. My aunt would laugh because she said that I was a different breed than most. The minute I heard about them, I buried my head deeper into books with excitement. Little did she know I also discovered Daddy’s old box in the attic, and ‘The World of the Unknown’ was in it.

EMILI The fire crackled, and Enzo was telling the worst ghost story I had ever heard in my life. “...and then the wolf opened the door, and the grandmother wasn’t the grandmother—she was a vampire wearing a wig...” “Enzo,” Lyra said, “if you don’t shut up, I’m going to be the monster in your story.” “It’s a classic.” “It’s garbage. Sit down and stop ruining the night.”

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.

"Most people don't." "Oh, she definitely did." "Why?" "Because she'd light candles everywhere and tell me it was an adventure." She laughed quietly at the memory. "We'd make hot chocolate." "We'd tell stories until the electricity came back." Lucien listened without interrupting. "What kind of stories?" "Bookshop ghosts." He blinked. "Ghosts?" "The friendly kind." She grinned. "They supposedly rearranged books during the night because they got bored." "And you believed that?" "I was seven." "...Fair enough."