Read Scary Stories Novels & Stories

she asked, clearly bracing for the worst. “Yes,” I said. “But later. As a treat.” Naomi groaned theatrically. “You lied,” she hissed. “We’ll start with stories,” I said. “Real ones. Some might be scary in parts. Some might be sad. But we’re telling them so you know where you come from. So no one can tell you lies and make you afraid on purpose.” I took a breath. “Who’s heard of the curse?” I asked. Almost every hand went up.

The university library was nearly empty at 9 PM on a Thursday, exactly how Mara preferred it. She'd claimed her usual spot in the back corner of the third floor, surrounded by towering shelves of forgotten literature that nobody bothered with anymore. Her psychology textbook lay open in front of her, but she'd read the same paragraph three times without absorbing a single word. The quiet was hypnotic. Just the distant hum of the heating system and the occasional whisper of pages turning somewhere far below. Then she heard footsteps.

Without warning, she pushed both fingers deep inside me in one smooth thrust. I gasped loudly, my head falling back against the wall. Lena immediately covered my mouth with her free hand. “Shhh,” she hissed, eyes gleaming with wicked amusement. “You don’t want Maya to hear her precious best friend getting finger-fucked by her big sister, do you?”

Gemma Vivid images of the monstrous Arachne, its sharp fangs sinking into Stacey’s flesh and ripping her to shreds, filled my dreams like a nightmare on repeat. Her blood-curdling scream echoed in my mind, only to be drowned out by my own as I desperately shielded her from the creature’s attack. Stacey’s biggest fear had always been spiders, yet even in the face of this terror she was still trying to save me. She had always been the protector, but now it was my turn to be the hero and save her. My heart raced with fear and determination as I faced off against the Arachne, ready to do whatever it took to keep Stacey safe.

“He doesn’t care about money. Or even winning. He just likes watching.” The room goes silent. A cold prickle runs down my spine. Around me, the others exchange glances, their postures shifting. No one speaks, but I can feel the unease settling like a thick fog. I try to keep my body loose and relaxed as I walk over to Scarlett, crouching beside her and gently tucking a loose curl behind her ear. Her small fingers clutch one of her stuffed animals, a well-loved unicorn with matted fur. “What do you mean, sweetheart?” I ask softly. “Who likes to watch what?” She shrugs, not looking up. “The man you’re talking about. He likes seeing what people do when they’re scared. He has a room where he mak

“Story!” I couldn’t help but smile. “You want a story?” I asked, stifling a laugh. The children nodded excitedly. “The wolf story!” one of them exclaimed. “We want to hear the wolf story again!” How could I refuse? The ‘wolf story’ in question was one that I had made up yesterday on the spot, a story about a rogue wolf chasing a little girl. It was a scary story that had made the children gasp, their eyes wide with fear, but they seemed to love it.

Before there were doors between worlds, there were stories. They whispered from hearth to hearth and ship to ship— of wolves that ran like midnight wind, of foxes with nine tails and nine more tricks beyond that, of fae who looked like carved moonlight and smiled like knives. Humans loved those stories—as long as they stayed in books and bedtime. The moment a story breathed, the moment a pair of eyes glinted from a tree line or a shadow stepped out of the corner of a room, humans did what humans do best when they’re afraid.

Walking with Angelo seemed normal to them. Last Sunday, we watched a horror movie inside their house. I was so scared of the killer clowns in the movies, but he wasn’t even flinching while watching. He said those fictional creatures weren’t scary at all. What he was scared of was how dangerous some of the wolf packs are.

I knew if they sensed fear, it would be over for me. This is a fairly public area. These animals are oddly aggressive no matter the time of day. I wondered if something caused them to act out of character. At the current moment, my focus was more on survival than their mommy issues. The crashing sound came first from behind me. It was quick and knocked me off my feet before I had the chance to pivot. I felt the scratch on my back as the air hit fresh blood. I heard the leaves on the ground crunch as both animals encroached on my body.

~Three Days Later~ ~Sunny’s Point of View~ “Mommy, can I ask you something,” I said. “Of course honey, what is it,” she said, brushing my hair. I loved that, it was so relaxing and it almost put me to sleep. “Who is the scary man that is around sometimes, why does he always stare at me,” I asked. “Oh … well sweetie he’s a vampire and he lives here,” she said. “He LIVES here?! Why does he live here, shouldn’t he be with others like him, won’t he hurt us,” I asked, horrified.