Scary Articles Novels & Stories

How could I expect her to trust me so easily when I was essentially a stranger to her? As a werewolf, my heightened senses made me acutely aware of every shift in her emotions. It was both a blessing and a curse, especially now when I wished I could shelter myself from her fear. "I won't hurt you, Skye," I found myself saying, a desperate attempt to alleviate her fear. "I know," she replied, and it was then that I realized her fear wasn't just of me. It was of the unknown, the world she was suddenly thrust into, the dangerous past she unknowingly had.

Shifting uncomfortably on her seat, she turned to him. " What do you want me to do now? I feel like I'm losing him and if that happens, neither of us will get what we want." " Which is why we need to team up, that way, we can be assured of out victory." He told her. Scarlett sighed, thinking it through. She really has nothing to lose in teaming up with him. Her only problem was Damien was a very dangerous man, maybe worse than her. He only does a good job of hiding it. Scarlett shivered, how did she get involved with a man.

"Did you see it? Tell me you're looking at the files right now. Tell me you see what I'm seeing!" "I'm looking at them," I whispered, my voice sounding incredibly small in the dark room. "He’s a monster, Kiera! A literal, actual monster!" Susan cried, her voice cracking with pure terror. "He’s conquered half the northern hemisphere, his ex-girlfriends are literally dropping like flies, and there are rumors that he eats rogue wolves for breakfast! I don't care what kind of business Rafael is trying to do with him. You need to stay away from him. Do you hear me? Lock your door. Pack a bag. I’ll drive over right now and we can cross the border into the human realm. We’ll hide. We'll—"

It was slow, deliberate, and chillingly intimate. I pulled my face in disgust, instantly rolling my eyes. My fear was quickly replaced by a sudden annoyance. If their goal was to scare me, they should've come up with something a lot more creative. "If you’re trying to scare me, you’re going to have to work a lot harder than that. I’ve had men try to kill me in my sleep. I've been sold like livestock. I've had a bounty on my head. To me, you’re just a heavy breather with too much free time."

Naturally, I opened it immediately. The headline sat at the top of the screen in bold black letters designed to raise blood pressure and lower intelligence. INSIDE THE MERCER HOUSE: SOURCES CLAIM CULT-LIKE CONTROL ON PRIVATE LAND I stared at it for five full seconds. Then I said, to my empty office, “Oh, lovely. We’re doing vocabulary crimes today.” The article was short, sloppy, and dangerous. That was the worst combination. Long articles gave people room to think. Short articles gave them something to repeat at grocery stores.

They were endless, and I couldn’t keep track of them all. The article had first been published by a top financial publication, and my name and picture had been plastered on top with a bold and brutal font. I read through the article in a frenzy. They had proofs which were no doubt fake but looked genuine. The wire transfers, fake accounts with my name, and documents with my signature. Documents I had never seen in my life. It felt like five years ago all over again. My heart was pounding, my hands were trembling, and my vision was blurry as I tried to blink back the fear and panic while I continued reading.

But soon, she would understand the consequences of being miserly. One day, while Greta was mocking me as usual, Hilda gleefully watched on. She walked into the living room with a glass of water to keep her throat hydrated. However, her movements were cautious, and she shuffled around nervously. As she was about to sit down, I suddenly shouted, "Ah!" Startled, she plopped down onto the chair, and there was a loud popping sound. Hilda let out an ear-piercing scream. Trembling, she glanced downward and saw that her pants were completely soaked. Her eyes rolled back into her head, and she fainted on the spot.

He added, "I've told you that wasting food is strictly prohibited in our factory. If you don't want to end up like her, you'd better eat up." I watched them coldly as they trembled, slowly lifting the covers off their plates. Almost immediately, their horrified screams filled the air. On their plates were arms, thighs, and fingers. There were enough body parts to form a whole person. Only then did I realize they weren't as scary as I had thought. It turned out that even those stronger than me could still feel fear. Right then, I spoke up, trying to sound braver than I felt. "Each part tastes different. If you're curious, you can swap pieces and try each other's."

They habour more and greater rage. Seems his rage with every passing second heightens. How in the world do I escape and get off his bondage?. Shivering, I slowly and gradually stare up his face. They're reddened and blaze more. Equally red as a human blood. I gasp then return my gaze to the floor. This really is bad. This is fucking bad. Am really, really, really done. No f**king two ways about it. How can one be highly cute but this scary?.

“Yeah, there were these... monsters. They were seriously scary. They were pacing in front of a circle of crucifixes holding dead bodies. I think one of them smelled me. I ran before it could reach me.” Amara nods her head. “I think I know what you're talking about. Was it carrying an ax?” I nod. “Yeah, it was horrifying. I ran as soon as it spotted me. Do you think there are more of those things out here? Because there were a lot of them guarding that circle of crucifixes.” I ask, even though the idea of knowing the truth freaks me out. Amara shrugs. “I don't know. But I do know that there are other scary things that we have to watch out for. The last time I was here, I fell into a river of