Scared Potter Novels & Stories

“You Rheasians dare try to take advantage of me? Could it be that you don’t know how much I loathe you people? I thought I would just capture and toy with you before letting you go, but I’ve changed my mind now. Tsk, tsk. I’m going to crush your head, pour out your brains, and use your skull as a urinal, hahahahah!” His unpleasant laugh sounded like nails on a chalkboard. It had an extremely high pitch and sounded so terrifying that one would have physical reactions to it! Cameron was a coward and had already been scared, so he broke down after hearing Scott’s remark. He wet his pants in fear and begged for mercy as tears and snot streamed down his face, “Sir, sir, it’s not my fault. Please

She replied. My eyes caught a glimpse of something that took me back to when I was a child. I had no idea why it caught my attention or even why it bothered me so much. I just knew that there was something about that object that scared me. Ava must have noticed me staring at the object before she spoke. "Oh, I got that from an unknown admirer, he calls himself the Puppeteer, very scary person," Ava said quietly as she studied the puppet that looked like her in an eerie sort of way.

the voice said laughing, seeing the man close his eyes sharply in fright “You don't like the view?” In his short flash of blurred vision, the man had noticed the frothing candle and the blood stained table; the skulls right next to it that hung taut on poles made of spinal cords. And the pot that sat on a pile of wood and coal, both glowing red as they birthed flames that licked the ashy bottom. Inside the pot boiled some green-colored liquid. The image looked like a witch's coven. "Oh, Goddess...." The vegetable seller whimpered. "Please—"

Anne only replied to Jack's words with a glimpse of a smile. Out of Anne's expectation, when they arrived, it turned out that they were not alone. There were about twenty people there. Instead of feeling happy and safe, Anne felt scared and wanted to run away. The reason was because those people wore black robes with pointed hoods that almost covered half of their faces. From their posture, Anne could guess that they were men and women. Lighting torches were planted all around them. And the center of Anne's attention was a giant stone in the shape of an owl.

I froze for a moment and didn’t know what to do. He was looking around our house until his gaze met mine. He stared deep into my soul like he was trying to define my existence. “W-Who are you?” I managed to say. I gripped into the pot that I was still holding. I planned on throwing it to him if ever he does something bad. He stepped out of his horse and made his way to where I was standing. “Stay back! Don’t come close! I-I warn you!” I exclaimed. My voice cracked. It was obvious that I was scared. I lifted the pot in front of me. “I can kill you with this!” I added, emphasizing the pot that I was holding.

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Skye. Skye, my mate. Beautiful, resilient, and undeniably fearful. It was an agonizing reality I grappled with daily, a painful paradox of sorts. How was I supposed to approach her when my mere presence seemed to strike fear into her heart? With a heavy sigh, I shifted back into my human form, my skin dark under the early morning sunlight. As I made my way into the café, I nodded a greeting to Maggie, the café owner and mate to one of my pack. She knew my secret, knew why I was here every morning without fail.

—No, you must stay away, I don't want to have any more problems with that family, I almost lost my mate to the dreaded dismemberer, the eldest son of the Baltimore. I don't understand what he was talking about, feared? Because he says feared, certainly Antton is not an issue but, feared dismemberer... even listening to him makes me laugh since it is silly to call someone that way in this day and age. —Don't you think you're exaggerating by calling him that? She looked really scared but she stares at me and this time she does approach me with a sad expression. My heart shudders when I have her in front of me, I try to keep my eyes on hers but she had an aura even stronger than mine.

he asks me, furrowing my eyebrows and taking another step towards me. Then, at that moment, a scream escapes from the depths of my throat as I cower and, millisecond after the fact, a grouping of images begins to streak before my eyes. I see the fear specialists killing Belasko, the main product that Angel and Sasha watched in the copyist's night, and a group of crows advancing from inside his chest; Sassa in her room, totally terrified and trying to close her ceiling window before a hand yanks the seat she's on; I see fear specialists appearing in Dark Potland and passing by the Angels' vehicle while they're stuck in trouble; each of the young people who grabbed and transformed in their exa

“If you think you can rat me out bitch, you've got another thing coming. Both of us are in this together, I go down, you go down. I'll make sure you follow me closely.” I was beginning to get scared but I masked my fear perfectly. Showing him my fear would fuel his threat, I wasn't going to give him the satisfaction of that. “Try it bastard, I dare you.” He released me and the look in his eyes wasn't one to be toyed with. I forgot to use a fucking long spoon while dining with him, for he is really the devil.