Midnight Stories Novels & Stories

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.

The city never slept, but it did have moments when it held its breath. Nights when the fog came early and thick, swallowing streetlamps whole and dulling the roar of traffic to a distant, underwater hum. Nights when the pavement glistened with recent rain and the buildings stood like silhouettes of forgotten giants. Nights when something old—something tooth-and-shadowed—stirred behind glass and steel. Charlie had always liked these nights best. They felt honest. No one bothered pretending the city was safe when the fog rolled in. The shadows lengthened, colors bled into each other, and every darkened alley whispered a story.

In their place was something new, something raw and honest. She was owned by Midnight. And as she looked up at the stars while he drove her back toward the edge, she knew that the dark desire series had only just begun. There was no going back to the light.

All I can hear is a ticking clock, but I don’t know where it is coming from. “Midnight is coming,” a voice whispers. “Run while you can.” She asks if I can hear that, but I’m not sure what to tell her. “I can, but where is it coming from? We are on a bridge in the middle of the woods.” Valeria holds me tighter. “Kendric, we have to find out what midnight means. There’s something behind it.” I wake with a jolt, unsure of what in the world just happened. Valeria stirs by my side, her eyes wide with panic. “Kendric, were you dreaming again? You mumbled something about midnight and were shouting my name at one point. What was it?”

If I could I would only live in this day, before they know, but only I and Chester Harrington know. It comes to me especially at night. But now, as I touch my belly I remember. ______________ We sleep 5 nuns to a large straw bed. Sometimes at night you hear some of the nuns concealing their grunts, concealing their moans. It's hard to hear over the snoring. Sometimes, it's whispered laughter, but what happens at night is concealed in the day.

Emelia Lane ‘s POV I live in a distant town. This is a place called “The Midnight Empire”. It is a place governed by werewolves. We do not have the Internet here. Even the highways are under the werewolves’ control. We can not get in touch with the outside world or ask them for help. No one in the outside world knows our stories.