Poems Horror Novels & Stories

We didn't let the darkness win. END OF VOLUME ONE

“They walk in shadow, cloaked not in fur but in malice woven. Their eyes are voids, deeper than tombs, and their breath withers hope. They need no pack, yet oft they come as one—five, ten, more—like the black wind before the storm.” “Beware, oh kin of claw and fang. When the woods fall still and the birds forget their songs; when the moon hides her face and the beasts of field flee in silence—then they are near. Bolt thy den and speak not their name, for to name them aloud is to draw their gaze.” “Let this be writ in claw and ash: the houndras cometh not for meat nor mirth, but for the ending of all things forgotten.” “That's it?” Rune asked, frustrated as he flipped through the pages hoping

And it’s already had a taste . Tales from The Lake Vol.1 anthology—Remember those dark and scary nights spent telling ghost stories and other campfire stories? With the Tales from The Lake horror anthologies, you can relive some of those memories by reading the best Dark Fiction stories around. Includes Dark Fiction stories and poems by horror greats such as Graham Masterton, Bev Vincent, Tim Curran, Tim Waggoner, Elizabeth Massie, and many more. Be sure to check out our website for future Tales from The Lake volumes.

Modern, furnished and beautiful and looking new everyday although the house was five years old already. Juana's coffee was transparent, lot of water,lot of sugar, no milk. So she could see her face while sipping at it. Her big blue eyes were a bit undefined, her expression showed fear with a mixture of helplessness and unusual calm. Then the dream came again. Avocado. Garden. Branch. Third branch. Corpse dripping with blood. Loose. Screaming. Empty House. Dream. "Oh my goodness" she sighed, dropping her half empty mug. She tried to make meaning out of it, but it was a little creepy..

He pauses before continuing with that slithering accent like something you would hear in a horror story or someplace in the darkest parts of Europe, “Have you ever wondered if the things that go bump in the night really exist? Or if they are a figment of your imagination?” Getting more creeped out by the second, I keep staring at him and then find that I can speak again. Before I utter an answer, I raise my hand up to my forehead and wipe a strand of my blonde hair out of my eyes so I can concentrate. “Sure, I have always been intrigued by the forces of darkness, but do they really exist as they do in my novels and dreams?”

Aurora noticed this, and was not certain what was happening, in her inquisitive nature she had to confirm what was happening. ‘I thought we taking the cable that will lead East-part of the hills”, she said ‘Yes, we supposed to. But I have got something else planned”, he responded. The cable ride travelled down west of the hill, it went over lower hills, across valleys with thick woods below them. The wood had beautiful lightening emanating from it, it lighted up the entire valley, the trees could be liken to a treasure house, which got lots of gold and precious stones sparkling out of it, the valley gave that sense of magic. The sight from above was magnificent; Aurora was in awe, her intuit

Samurai and Other Stories by William Meikle Stuck On You and Other Prime Cuts by Jasper Bark Poetry collections: WAR by Alessandro Manzetti and Marge Simon Brief Encounters with My Third Eye by Bruce Boston No Mercy: Dark Poems by Alessandro Manzetti Eden Underground: Poetry of Darkness by Alessandro Manzetti If you’ve ever thought of becoming an author, we’d also like to recommend these non-fiction titles: The Dead Stage: The Journey from Page to Stage by Dan Weatherer Where Nightmares Come From: The Art of Storytelling in the Horror Genre, edited by Joe Mynhardt and Eugene Johnson Horror 101: The Way Forward, edited by Joe Mynhardt and Emma Audsley Horror 201: The Silver Scream Vol.1 and V

I storm out Why won't anyone believe me, I have a real life vampires blood Arrg! after everything I went through, still just insults I did my study on those creatures for years, and I can still remember some of my favourite poetry and poems I read as a kid A Last Word by Ernest Dowson Let us go hence: the night is now at hand; The day is overworn, the birds all flown; And we have reaped the crops the gods have sown; Despair and death; deep darkness o'er the land,

Their faint voices were not mere echoes, but flashes of madness throbbing in the darkness, stirring bodies and pressing down on hearts. Meanwhile, Malik and Dima huddled behind the door of Nabil's apartment, silent, their fingers gripping the cold edge, their hearts pounding like the faint drums of war. They had no idea how this night would end, and no one dared guess what would happen when the dead shadows clashed with human power, with spirits unwilling to leave. The night coiled around the tower like a black serpent, pressing down on every corner, testing the patience of those who stood before it. Every breath, every whisper, carried the promise that this night would not end peacefully, t

Pinanindigan siya ng balahibo. Dahan-dahan siyang bumaba para hanapin ang pinagmumulan nito. Naghanap siya sa kusina ng ‘di binubuksan ang ilaw. Ilang sandali pa'y narinig niya uli ang nakakatakot na halakhak. Nakita niyang may nakatayong anino malapit sa bintana na nasisinagan ng liwanag ng buwan na parang eksena sa mga horror movies. “Kabilugan pa ng buwan ngayon. Oh God, nasa loob na ba ako ng horror movie?” bulong niya na balot pa rin ng takot ang binata.