Psychological Horror Novels & Stories

But to her decimal display she found the red finger marks holding her to a frightening shock. As she looked through the mirror a devilish laughter of a woman with canines out, completely black with hairs waving on all sides appeared. The rocking chair which was stationary earlier started moving now. Amara was almost into a panic attack. It wasn't her hallucination. She indeed experienced his torture and the woman in the mirror....she at once disappears.

My eyes enlarged on it, my hand over my chest now breathing slowly yet heavily, feeling like I was going in a horror movie of some sort, especially when I saw a dark outline of a shadowy figure clearly visible through the light balcony curtain. My heart kept pounding through my chest and my body froze unable to think of what to do. Who the hell was that? If it was a thief. Why would he be knocking, instead of budding in? Fingers trembling I pushed my blanket aside. Now I've watched a lot of horror movies and a lot of very-very, incredibly stupid girls head for the window but me? HELL to the NO.

Scarlett I woke up with a start, my sheets twisted around my legs, heart hammering in my chest. The remnants of a nightmare clung to me like a second skin. I had seen horrors, shadows, blood, screaming children, monsters with faces that shouldn’t exist. My palms were slick with sweat, and I could still hear the echo of those cries, faint but relentless. I lay there for a long moment, trying to shake it off, trying to convince myself it had been just a dream. But the horror lingered, gnawing at the edges of my mind.

Because he had just been ripped apart. I turned around slowly and stared at the “pet” who had done the ripping. He still had blood on his face, but somehow looked… innocent. “I was hungry,” he murmured. Maybe it was my imagination, but his pupils looked a little sharper than before. [Wow. Trying to slut-shame someone in a horror dungeon? He had it coming.] [Pop the champagne. Ding-dong, the jerk is dead.] [Lol the stans are out. She can sleep with monsters but nobody can call her out?]

My heart hammered as I crouched, knife raised, fingers brushing the cool floor. Nothing. But Just darkness. But the sense of being watched didn’t leave me is like I was always on CCTV. Every corner, every room, every shadow seemed alive and active, carrying William’s presence. I realized the terrifying truth: this wasn’t just an attack on me. It was a psychological war. He didn’t need to touch or see me before he can control me and put Fear in my body. Fearfully, I sank against the wall tiredly, trying to steady my racing pulse. The apartment, once a haven and a peaceful home , now felt like a trap. And I knew one thing very clear that William wouldn’t wait. He wouldn’t hesitate.

I thought that I had recovered completely thus it didn't occur for a long time. But today it acted up suddenly giving me the old fear of darkness.My vision started turning blur and vague as if the darkness was a group of vampires that were coming to suck the hell of my blood. My subconscious mind started replaying the haunted memories where the screaming of a boy from a tiny darkroom like shell was spreading like horror tune.My whole body started shivering like a fallen leaf as my breathing quickened fast. Thankfully, I was sitting on the couch thus it was easy to clutch the hand of the couch to stable my nervousness. I paid zero attention to his enormous questions which was turning cold and

Toying with someone's mind and keeping them in my palm was what hooked me. When I was in school, I chose to live in the dorms whenever possible, just to shape the people around me. The dorm I lived in during middle school was never at peace. Sudden injuries and even deaths kept happening. I drifted among them, watching their families weighed down by pain, guilt, and grief, and I felt a rush like nothing I had felt before. When we were assigned dorm rooms in college, the moment I first saw Jacob, I knew that he was just like me, a natural-born sociopath. But he was my prey.

the boy sobs and Ri takes a step back. "Zel, it's using a memory something psychological against the boy," Orion calls out distressed. A traumatic memory. It's something that's happened before so it makes the dream feel real to the victim. It makes it harder to wake the victim up. The night terror moves closer to Orion and the boy. It's about to strike them both where they stand and I can't let it take two souls let alone the soul of my partner. "Zastacca," I scream summoning my magic again and the night terror strains against my hold.

It’s not there anymore, anyway. Still. Even when my two normal eyes are open and I’m all the way here and all the way aware, I sense my black eye pulsing. It’s like an itch in the bone, this feeling. Rolling over, buzzing in slow circles. Like a wasp’s nest boiling in honey. Angry. It shows me blood. It sprays a stench of scarlet across people’s faces as they’re talking to me. It drags claws through their eyes. It hurts them, shreds them. I have to watch it like a psychic death-wish. Sick and surreal as a 70s horror film, like the ones that dude by the coast made us watch. I had to pretend I didn’t like them, but I did. What my eye shows me makes me feel the same.

“The mean fiend of the silver screen! Your old buddy Borr-hisss!” There was nervous chatter in the audience. The tension that had been building since it had climbed out of the blood was churning through the lot. It was growing. Flowing through everyone in the audience the entire time this thing had been on stage, and somehow he was feeding on it. With each shriek, each breathless gasp and nervous laugh, the shadow of this creature loomed longer. “Well,” it said, smacking its lips. “You came for a spook show, didn’t you? Came to see some horrors?”