Romans & histoires Scariest Stories Of All Time

Nora concluded in a silk undertone. Impressed by her good storytelling skills, the kids applauded her as they glued their vote stickers on the voting pad. However, amongst the other kids, some people weren't impressed—Gina Adams and minions. "Oh, PUURLEES. . . This is the lamest scary story in the history of lame scary stories," Gina jeered loudly, her tone wielding the usual amount of obnoxity.

Anyway, he kept saying that there are horrible creatures that lurk in the darkness here… While growing up he told me the story of the time when he was ten years old, his dog ran out of his family home—this townhome, the home I’m just about my home until my dad gets out of jail and the social worker says I can go back. He goes on and says that he watched his dog die that night being eaten alive by a wolf-like humanoid that he himself barely made it back home to safety. Then there were these stories of the locals being blood-sucking vampires and all the BS surrounding that subject. Oh and the witches of the forest and the great lake—supposedly they lure pregnant women to their deaths and drown

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Telling him the exact old told tale. “Don’t you remember those happy voices in your mind as you sleep? Or maybe the screams you hear of terror in a nightmare. What is a nightmare? Isn’t a nightmare a small prison you’re trapped in, with no hopes of waking? Why? Because you never know you’re asleep. You forget everything, your name, your life, and who you are. The only thing to accompany you are the monsters that laugh in your mind, that taunt you, knowing everything. Your life, your happiness, everything that had been stolen away. But the scariest part of the nightmare won’t be the monsters. They aren’t scary themselves. The most fearful thing of all is that they are yours. That you can hear

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.”

The few bears that still roamed the mountains were all hibernating comfortably in their dens. It could have been worse, Nicky and Teri knew—they could have been forced to share a tent with their eight-year-old brothers instead of with each other. But thankfully, the boys were in tents with their dads. The six of them had spent the last couple hours sitting around a blazing campfire, taking turns telling scary stories. Most of the stories were pretty lame, but Teri’s father raised some goose bumps with a tale of a crazed psychopath who preyed on campers, dragging them from their tents back to a cave where he slowly ate them alive. By the time he was done, the youngsters found themselves peeki

I couldn’t be alone after what just transpired. ‘Why do you want me to stay with you? So that we can have sex, right? Just tell me why you would want to have sex at a time like this?’ ‘I don’t want sex Billy. I cannot be alone here. I am too scared to be alone.’ ‘Same here, I am too scared to be alone with you. I know I sent you to Naledi’s, but I didn’t expect you to turn into a serial killer. Now imagine what you can do to me if I dare argue with you.’

You could say that there are no ghosts in the world, and I could agree with you, but some people said that there are no werewolves in the world and we know for sure that they are, so… never say never. “I hate this place,” Sam said and looked around. “So many stories , horror stories that I get goosebumps just thinkin' about it.” “ I chose this place exactly for that. Because we all hate this place and it is the last place where Manganiello would think that we will come.”

by the time the sun shimmers at the horizon behind me and the crescent moon dips below the horizon before me, I have thought of every word I know of to describe really, really, really boring walking. There is absolutely nothing here. I think of the stories we told each other when we were pups. About wraiths that lived beneath the sand of the Barren that would pull you down into their nests. They would paralyze you and then their grubs would feed off you, slowly eating you alive. That was a favorite. There are the roaming packs of wilder-scorpions, creatures that are half beast, half scorpion. Where the beast's tail should be is a scorpion's sting that will cause your skin to turn black and t

Hendrix POV After that weirdo's silly bedtime story about end-of-the-world cults or something, I could tell Anna's resolve was breaking down. Those weird creatures and their horrifying objects were like living nightmares come true. They had twisted bodies and soulless eyes that looked right into your mind with cold malice. Their rude and inappropriate presence made me lose even my normal confidence. But giving in to fear was the first thing that led to loss. And there was no way in hell I was going to be added to Scar's crazy plan to kill people from our family tree.