Scariest Folklore Stories Novels & Stories

Looked like Loren had gotten carried away, Ria thought. "You know, of all the ghosts, the most dangerous are the ones that carry grudges and regrets…" Loren rambled on again. Ria started to think that Loren liked horror topics like this. "What do you mean?" Ria responded while reading through some of the articles she found earlier. “I have a story that my mother firsthand experienced. She once rented an old house that was haunted by a spirit full of regret and anger that almost brought her to an terrible accident…” Loren had already started preparing her story when Ria noticed that the clock already indicated that their next class was about to start.

"Let's hear what Illac has to say, you know I do not like that Foire, he is not fit to be a leader," "Words are spreading fast," Lucas said while looking at the two werewolves talking. Blair nodded, of course, it is. Word had spread through Gehena as well, necromancers who live there are intrigued whether or not it is true. Ghouls in Imperial also has a share of their content saying that they have once seen a scarlet-eyes wolf running around. Things are being heated, now Foire, what kind of play are you going to do to make them believe you? Blair can't wait to find out what will happen later at dawn.

The evil ones. The kind of bedtime stories mothers whispered to keep their children from wandering past the watchtowers after nightfall. Stories I'd dismissed as folklore meant to frighten the young and gullible, nothing more than superstition wrapped in shadow. Yet here one stood, in my bedroom, as real as the floorboards beneath my feet.

"I'm looking for information about the town's history, particularly anything unusual or supernatural." She peered at me over her glasses, her eyes narrowing. "You're not the first one to come asking about that, you know. There's an old legend that's been passed down through generations. Some say it's just a tale, but others believe there's truth to it." My curiosity piqued, and I leaned closer, eager for any tidbit of information. "What legend?" "The legend of the Silverwood Curse," she whispered, her voice tinged with a mixture of caution and excitement. "It's said that those afflicted by the curse turn into vicious beasts under the light of the full moon. They become... werewolves."

Sometimes sleep isn't the best thing. I'd been asleep for almost the whole day. Now it was midnight and I struggled and rolled in my sheets the fatigue now all but gone. What stays with me is the amazing amount of fear and worry about what’s to come. Will had told me a long time ago that the dark forest was once alive but somehow the land had been poisoned, the creatures that lived within them were dark and outcasts. The place held the largest population of Ghosts, ogres, centaurs and so many animals. Once I'd seen a giant spider the size of a dwarf house but they keep to themselves and find caves and dense trees in their homes.

She simply moved, delicate and distant, as though the world she belonged to was no longer this one. I could not tear my eyes away from the sight. Ashwood had never been ordinary. We had grown up hearing stories whispered around fires—stories about the woods and the things that walk when the moon is hidden. Creatures with eyes that glowed in the dark. Footprints that belonged to nothing human. Voices that called your name from places you could not see. We were told about werewolves, shapeshifters, vampires, and skinwalkers. And every story ended the same way. Those beings were gone. Exiled. Driven away long before we were born. We were warned never to go into the woods alone, never to answer

According to her, it was a story used to scare and caution children in their times, but with time nobody heard of these stories again. Stories of scary creatures coming out from the pit of hell to torment mankind. Creatures who once rose from the darkness - seeking domination over the earth, wanting revenge on mankind. It was just in tiny pieces because she didn't recall the full story but she remembered the mark and the creatures who bore them. It was a magical mark - and the names of these creatures are Vorlak.

Danté asked. "Not sure, nothing much is elaborated about it, so far its only talks and tales, it's originating from Cherokee folklore and a name here of an ancient Shaman named Blair" "Blair?" "Cherokee Indian" Liam said looking at him. Danté sat back thinking, they all knew of Vlad Dracul, the supposed first vampire, but it was never spoken of any first wolf, or great wolf, maybe only a werewolf will know the full story. "What if we ask a werewolf?" Danté asked "An old one?"

I pulled it from the shelf and sat down at the table, flipping it open. The first few pages were filled with the usual stuff—founding dates, town milestones, and the kind of folklore that every small town seemed to have. But as I read further, the stories grew darker. Mentions of strange disappearances, shadowy figures in the woods, and whispers of creatures that hunted under the full moon. Wolves. My breath caught in my throat as I skimmed over the passages. It wasn’t just talk of wild animals. There were stories—centuries old—of people who could shift into wolves. People who lived among the townsfolk by day but became something else under the cover of darkness.

It infuriated Cassy more—with the night that’s the homecoming of the ghosts and horrors. A wicked laugh itched to be out, instead, she scrutinized the height. The distance between her and the ground did not harrow her. It amazed her at how different she’s lurking around where the normal people might not even stare without a wave of nausea washing over them. An urge to smoke-filled her; she fetched a pack from the inside pocket of her dark blue jacket; ignited the flame, mumbling, “Every legendary story is a pent-up frustration of human beings to invoke fear in the minds of those whom they hate. Several against one or one against many.”