Poems Horror Novels & Stories

A sense of dread hung in the air, thick and suffocating. It felt like something monstrous had swept through, leaving only fear in its wake. Beasts? Ghosts? Who could tell? The markets were in chaos, stalls overturned and their wares left to rot. Squashed fruits littered the ground, their vibrant colors dulled as insects and bees buzzed in a macabre feast, their wings flickering in the fading light. The stench of decay mingled with the chill in the wind, making the hair on the back of my neck rise. We clung together, moving as one, terrified that if we strayed too far from each other, whatever darkness haunted this place would tear us apart.

Credits to The Office rolled on my laptop as I sat up in bed, in front of me laid poetry as the wind blew harshly against the house; clicking on 'play' only to be welcomed by the next episode of The Office, I heard something downstairs fall and break. Did I want to be a part of a horror movie cliche? Nope. Wide-eyed I glanced toward my closed bedroom. "Fuck no," Bringing the lilac covers up to my chin, sliding the poetry onto the floor, and bringing the great Michael Scott closer to me. "I am not dying today Satan," Chills danced upon my body as a familiar but transparent scent caught my nose, hair prickled up on the back of my neck, and as another crash sounded, I jumped. My heartbeat picki

"Shadowthorn essence is a dark poison derived from the thorns of the nightshade plant. They cause terrifying hallucinations, leading to paralysis." "While Whisperwind Venom is harvested from the elusive Whisperwind spiders dwelling in the ethereal forests, this poison imbues one's mind with haunting whispers and illusions, driving them to the brink of madness." "These poisons are not easily found. They are only in Kingdom Solstice." As tears streaked down my cheeks, I struggled to make sense of Dr. Halt's words. My shoulders sagged under the weight of the brutal revelation, and my eyes widened in shock. Frantically, I scanned the room, desperate for answers that slipped through my fingers li

If your body doesn't lay in a Cemetery, it means you succumbed in a very tragic way, and your body couldn't be found. No one expected it, no one wanted it, but that night, the same night that Jonah was buried, a bell rang. Once, twice, three times, until the ringing seemed not to stop, and it was impossible to know when a ringing began or ended. It was barely eight o'clock at night when the bell started ringing. Everyone in the village was terrified by that incessant sound because they knew where it came from, and they also knew what they had done. They were afraid that this monster was alive and wanted revenge.

Her pulse thunders in her ears, and it takes precious moments for the residual terror to subside in the tiniest sense of it. In the eerie stillness of the night, Marisol clutched at the sheets, her heart racing wildly owing to the scare of the nightmare that had taken a few nights off, only to return stronger than it would seem. The vivid imagery of the beast persists even behind her closed lids, haunting her waking moments as she grapples with the remnants of the surreal horror that had unfolded in her dreams.

I am engulfed, burning from the inside out, as the inferno dances within, leaving naught but ashes in its wake. There's a haunting beauty in the piercing cry that shatters the silence, a raw heart-wrenching sonnet of agony escaping from the depths of my anguish. My voice, a raw symphony of pain, paints the space with the visceral strokes of an emotion too intense to be confined. My eyes open, embracing bleeding obsidian and clutching at shadows, my breath a delicate tremor of fear. Every unseen whisper becomes a phantom, and the absence of light is a canvas for my imagination to weave tales of untold terrors.

" We notch our bows and wait for the morrow Cold is the night and nary a tear for on the morn we head into shadow There is no room for our fear His eyes are cruel, his evil is endless Black is soul and ne'ver he'll rest till all the world lies covered in darkness and none who'd fight him are left. Zhanere Zelezial"

There was no one but darkness outside. "Who's that?" "Corrine?" "Elise?" Eiden guessed. He thought that it was his sisters being ignorant. Eiden approached the door and looked outside. There was no one and it looked deserted. Maybe everyone was fast asleep and didn't realize the power was off. Eiden closed the door and as he turned around, that was exactly when he saw the demonic figure. His eyes were fiery red with his entire body covered in blood. His teeth were sharp and emitted a lot of foul odor with two black horns on his head. He grinned at Eiden.

*Danger doesn't lurk at every corner, it's just hanging out, waiting for fear and horror to show up* *That cold out there ain't the weather, that's death approaching. Be warned! *Everyone is a moon and has a dark side which he/she never show to anyone. *Hell is empty, all the demons are here. *We stopped checking for monsters under our bed when we realized they were inside us. *There are some secrets which do not permit themselves to be told. *so what? Ghosts doesn't exit? That's what I thought too. Till it happened to me.

His wrinkled face looked like it was crawling with countless wriggling worms. I shuddered and stepped back, whispering to Silvia, "Good thing I've got you. This place is terrifying." She snorted and suddenly shoved me forward, straight toward George. With an icy laugh, she said, "This pretty boy will make a great offering. You're going to love him." Before I could react, George gestured, and several eerie puppets stepped forward to pin me down and drain my blood. A sharp bell rang out, echoing through the night.