Scariest Authors の小説・ストーリー

Emma's hands were shaking with pure fear, and a few cold drops of sweat ran down her forehead. She put the heavy book down, completely unable to read any further. Millions of terrifying questions were racing through her mind. Why were these types of things written in this book? Was it real? Did that boy die? Worst of all... was it the Master who had done all of this? It did not look like a normal book. The letters were not printed by a machine; they were meticulously handwritten. Someone had actually sat down and written this. But who could that person be? How could anyone have written out such horrible, violent things?

He knew how of all things I was scared of ghosts. “You know what?” he said, annoyed, “you’ll never be able to be an author.” It was depressing to hear this from my best friend. I wanted to become an author. Like that bald, French-bearded, drowsy-eyed man – Salman Rushdie. Ever since Nisim had introduced me to Rushdie, after those weird…well…purposeful sightings in my dreams, so many days had I dreamed of coming back home with a trunk full of currency notes after winning that grand prize, The Booker. But it was depressing to hear this from Biswa that I couldn’t be an author. He was the master of prophecy among my friends. Everything he said came true sooner or later.

> “With the Creator gone, the monsters of the dark web finally began to crawl onto the page.” She heard scratching along the paper’s edges. Thousands of tiny, black shadows climbed up—spiders made from broken computer code, hungry and relentless. They were coming for them. “If the Author’s a prisoner and the Board’s lost control… who’s the dark master that’s taken the pen?”

The next second, the Patchwork Monster tore the man in half. He tossed the body outside casually. Just then, a crisp, bell-like voice sounded outside. “It’s after work hours, who’s so rude as to be throwing bodies around?” A young girl with three heads and eight arms appeared at the doorway. With just one look at the shop, anger filled her voice, and her hair stood on end. “Who the hell had a death wish and smashed the Number One Must-Eat shop in the entire horror game?”

“Okay, I’ll bite. What’s this one’s hook? Is it different than the one you were reading yesterday, and then the day before that? Or all the ones you've been reading since... I don't know... 7th grade?” I immediately shot upright with glee, grinning with all my teeth out, I always relished the opportunity to introduce new victims to my cherished collection of smutty werewolf e-novels. “Okay, Get this! I found one of those novel apps last week, so I thought, why not read one of the books they recommend. Since I’m an alpha expert or lycan enthusiast if you will, and I can smell the cringe from a mile away.” I paused to take a breath, “Then I found this book, by a new mysterious author on the bl

Anna was a miracle child, and so is this book. She looked down on the paperback on her lap, its cover dazzling as ever. The Anthem of Lycanthropy. She couldn’t believe she was the author of this, that this was her life, and that her life story went viral — with everyone thinking it’s a realistic fiction. But of course, nobody knew that she was the writer behind the works except her and Ellie. Everyone just knew the writer as L.M.H. and that was it. Leal Miragia Horryn.

the waitress shouted. "Stop. He will be killed nonetheless but not by you," I said, making her stay still because of my authoritative voice. She did not utter a word and atbthat time I thought that she had gone dumb. Yaah, I know people fear me but after seeing how she handled my manager, I was sure that at least she won't be afraid of me then. She escaped from Paul's grip and turned towards my direction. I am sure she was so curious to know who it was.

He says that he was going to remove the book from the shelf when out of nowhere he heard the entrance of the library screeching embarrassingly and in a matter of blinking he was remembering the day he went into his father's office and located a kind of diary that spoke of beasts , basically werewolves, and for which he received a slap in the face from his mother when he found Besides, that memory, close to the one Jay had and about which I don't have a greater number of subtleties than the one he gave us at lunch, doesn't stop thinking. Still , Valack said the book It would help us remember fear specialists, however, so far three individuals have just recalled horrific encounters that their

After resting for a while, they walked around and saw a bookstore which they both agreed to enter. She was reading the back of Sense and Sensibility by Jane Austen when Jacob asked her. “What do you say let’s read horror books? Like the ones we watched today?” “Eh? I’m scared. You go read first, then give me a summary, then I’ll decide. Haha!” “Roger!” as he picked The Dunwich Horror and Others by H.P. Lovecraft and IT by Stephen King. They finished book shopping, it was around three in the afternoon when Jacob invited her to go somewhere else.

She hesitated in it before typing her response. Sidney: Oh, will I? Oliver: Yes Allison: How did you get the idea for your article about Lovecraftian influence in modern horror? Sidney: Wow! You have been reading for a while. I saw a movie at a film festival last year that really had that vibe but did it so subtly. Allison: It was very good. Sidney: Thank you! Allison: Can I ask you something? Sidney: Sure. Allison: Is it scary to post your pictures on the internet?