Odd Short Stories Novels & Stories

"Anyway, I wanna come with you. You might need help carrying the drinks back." "I probably won't have any trouble with that, but alright. Whatever makes you happy." He placed Shiro down and we both went out. Scarlet wasn't wrong when she said that the convenience store was really near. It was practically right next to the apartment complex. When we went inside, Crimson gave me some money and told me to meet him outside after buying some chips. I don't know why, but I guess it really isn't that important. To be honest, I didn't know there were so many strange flavors of chips. Who would even eat ketchup flavored ones? That sounds disgusting. I say that, but I'm sure someone out there has it a

I guess I would never know what my murderer looked like. "Why do you have to be such a buzzkill? You see—buzz, kill. You get it?” The man laughed once again, which made shivers run down my spine and all over my limbs.“Oh, is someone getting excited?” A hand touched my stomach, and I jumped, suddenly realizing that I was naked. “Who knew that dying could be someone’s kink?”I continuously couldn’t think of anything, completely dumbfounded by the situation.

Madeline’s POV I’m almost losing it. Tears prick the corners of my eyes, hot and insistent, as I feel a strange force wrap around me. It pulls me from the cold, ceramic emptiness of the bathtub after hours of just lying there, wasting away. It’s a violent, gentle tug back into my body, a feeling like the life that had drained out of me is being forced back in, molecule by molecule.

BEFORE YOU READ Nobody is coming to save you. Themes: Forced Proximity, Snowed In, Size Difference, Breeding Kink. This story features a possessive, reclusive hero who hasn't seen a woman in years. Expect primal play, rough sex, and intense possessiveness. (***) Gabrielle

Forever. End of book 36

Why would he suddenly ask me that? I’d love to read one of your stories sometime," he murmured, his voice dropping into that dark, suggestive tone from my fantasies. He began to step back toward his apartment door. "Don't forget what I said. If you need anything at all, just come over. See you later, love.” He headed back to his apartment and I stood there like a statue, watching the way his gray sweatpants sat perfectly on his hips until his door finally clicked shut. ★★★★★ By Saturday night I had half a chapter and a problem.

Whoever it was not going to be able to come in. I couldn't take any chance though, so I waited, my hand holding the trigger steadily as I took a calming breath to steady my shaking hands. The person took some steps back and then they roared. Two swift kicks to the door sent it flying in my direction, followed by a bone-chilling roar and I fired the gun, my hand pressing on the trigger over and over again while I screamed. The door hit the side of my arm, and I went down, the gun skidding out of my hold and flying through the open door that led to the bedroom... I scrambled after it when a strong hand closed around my ankles, yanking me so hard, I forgot how to breathe. I turned and started h

She poured herself another glass of cheap red, already on her third, and dropped onto the couch in her pencil skirt and blouse, buttons half undone. The city lights through the rain-streaked windows. Her laptop was still open on the coffee table, case files glowing like accusatory little rectangles. She should sleep. Instead she reached for the dusty old book she’d bought on a drunken whim two years ago at that weird occult shop downtown. *Daemonologie for the Modern Woman.* Stupid. But tonight it felt like the right kind of stupid. She flipped it open, scanned a page at random, and slurred the words under her breath. Latin? Probably, didn’t matter.

Oswan asked. “In what are you interested?” Ortaul said. “I'm interest in anything new in the world, so nothing in particular.” “Listen then, my boy. Creates have appeared from out of nowhere.” “Creatures, you say, what kind?” “The worst, I say! Their teeth are sharp as swords; their eyes are red as blood.” “We saw them.” “Where did you?” “Not much down the road, near the miller.” “Great, finally, we can kill them.”

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.