My House Of Horrors Novels & Stories

"Are you sure you can do my house? You don't hold a grudge against me, do you? It wouldn't be funny if the design of my house was destroyed because the interior designer I used was my ex who still holds a grudge." "Grudge.?" Yara laughed when she heard that. "Yara, I'm serious. My future wife can't get involved in this interior design matter because she doesn't understand, she leaves it completely to me. And I don't want to let her down." Yara's heart felt like it was being squeezed. No, not because she still loves Adam. She just couldn't accept seeing Adam live happily. And what did he say? Future wife? The man already has a future wife, building a house that they will live in together. Mea

He pushed the door open with a steady cannon and stepped into the darkness of the empty house. Inside, the house was silent, save for the faint creak of the wooden floorboards beneath his boots. In the living room, a small, broken television sat on a worn table, facing a solitary wooden chair. Various farm tools lay scattered across the ground and hung on the walls: a rusty fork, a heavy hammer, an axe, a crow's crook, and several sharp-edged gardening implements. The air smelled of dust, mustiness, and something metallic—the stench of blood from some past disaster.

Three days before Sheldon was supposed to leave the country, he mortgaged our house. He even helped us pack, moving me and the boys into a tiny one-room basement unit on the third floor down. It was barely 300 square feet and was damp, musty, and dark. Sheldon stood in the middle of that little room, talking to our sons as if he was giving some grand speech.

(Isabella’s POV) The safe house was a tomb, filled with the ghosts of a life that wasn't mine. Dust sheets covered the heavy, ornate furniture, and the air was thick with the stale, stagnant scent of time. The brutal, adrenaline fueled escape from Bianchi’s gala felt a world away, but the true horror of the night was just beginning to settle in my bones, a cold, creeping dread that no locked door could keep out.

~Liora~ The entrance to the haunted house looked like something straight out of someones very vivid nightmare. Twisted iron gates, fake cobwebs thick enough to look real, and a low groan of sound effects bleeding through the walls that made the hair on the back of my neck stand at attention before we even stepped inside. I stopped walking just before we could cross the threshold. "Everett." "Yeah." "I want to go home." He turned to look at me, amusement written all over his face. "You said you liked horror."

He stops as they both stumbled upon a house, Now the house wasn’t like any other house, It seemed like it was built years ago, You could see the railings of the house falling apart, He shared a look with Aurora and looked back at the house which they just stumbled upon. The house had a huge sign on it that read 'HOUSE 5B2C ' They were at the supposed house, Looking at the house again, you could tell it was a deserted house, The railings were falling apart however the front door was still in place, This was the haunted house.

Scott said quietly, nodding at me. And just like that, they vanished before my eyes. They had already suffered enough in life. How could they die all over again because of me? I crouched on the ground, crying so hard I nearly fainted. The familiar mechanical voice rang out once more. "Congratulations, player. You have successfully cleared the horror game instance "Family of Four." Reward: Revival. Preparing to transport the player back to the real world. Countdown begins: 10, 9, 8..."

You know those days when you're absolutely certain you hate someone's guts? Every little thing about them drives you crazy the way they scrunch their nose at your cooking, the critical tone when they point out dust on a shelf, the cold indifference in their eyes when they walk past you like you're invisible. That's how I feel about him. Julian Blackwood. My boss. The billionaire who treats me like I'm beneath his notice unless I'm doing something wrong. And then I found out someone wanted him dead. I should have let it happen. I should have kept my mouth shut and watched the empire crumble around the man who made my life miserable. But here's the thing about hate it's dangero

The text reads: HEY, HOW ARE YOU? ..... I smile warmly. I have not heard from Jason since the beach day. I will text him later, after my meet up with the devil. Lizzie, that is. In no time, I’m on the street that Lizzie told me her house is. I walk to the huge house. The lawn is perfect, the windows are gigantic. The house is extremely modern. A little rectangular tag is near the door and it says: 666.

Then I drove straight as I took over the cars in front of mine as I dropped my elbow on the car's window then I palmed my hand on my mouth. I need to tell Arnold all about Victor's nasty threat. I need to do so tonight, this is becoming too much for me to handle. I pulled down the brake and sped off. I picked up the house key from my bag when I got to the doors entrance, then I unlocked the door holding onto the door knob. I tried closing back the door when I walked inside then I realized the door's handle was held by someone outside. Then suddenly, I was pushed by the door staggering forward.