Scared Potter Novels & Stories

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.

Some students were disappointed, while others were excited and even wished the class would end without a lesson. Hayle excitedly came to the front of the class. "Attention, please!" Everyone was suddenly silent and focused on Hayle. "So, I have something unique that I want to show you." Hayle took out a cassette tape, "I have this!" The students laughed and looked strangely at Hayle, except for one person. Tony. The nerdy student who rarely spoke. He looked at the cassette in Hayle's hand with a shocking face. "This cassette has a song called "Terrifying" which was released in 1982. Well, it sounds weird. Let's play it!"

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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—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.

It was in an open circle in front of a huge tree trunk that was covered in vines shaped like hands reaching out hungrily toward them. Scar tried not to look around at the faces of the goblins gathered there, instead keeping her head high and staring straight ahead. She refused to give them the satisfaction of seeing her fear or her sadness. The gentle morning breeze carried the scent of flowers, and she breathed it in, trying to keep her heart from running out of her chest.

Noticing my gaze, Leon cleared his throat. "Is it nice?" "Yeah, it's nice." He smiled to himself, and his eyes burned. "Then keep looking." I blushed, wanting to turn away, but he raised an eyebrow and leaned in close before whispering, "Are you afraid I'll eat you up?" My heart raced like a drum, but I tried to stay calm. "Not really. I'm more afraid you won't be able to control yourself." "Is that so?" Leon looked at me with renewed interest.

Aggressively, defiantly joyful. The Muse shudders. Arthur’s brushstroke wavers. He starts a new sculpture, a dark spiral representing existential dread. I grab the clay and form a lopsided, grinning frog. I put a tiny, absurd crown on its head. He composes a symphony in a minor key, a funeral dirge for lost potential. I bang on a pot with a spoon, singing a off-key nursery rhyme at the top of my lungs.