Scary Bedtime Stories Adults Novels & Stories

Grandma told. "I am scared grandma." She mumbled. She rubbed her eyes as she was feeling sleepy. "You should now sleep sweetheart. I will continue the story tomorrow." Grandma said and was about to get up when Thea hold her hand in her little ones and stopped her. "No Grandma, please continue the story. I am not sleepy." She said and gave her puppy eyes. "You are getting scared Thea. You will wet your bed if I continue the story." Grandma said. "I don't wet my b-bed grandma." Thea said with red cheeks. "And I am a big girl now and big girls don't get scared of anything, not even the lycans." Thea said and giggled at her own words.

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

I could feel myself shaking uncontrollably, tears running down my face. Lena licked my tits, sucked my nipples while the men destroyed me. The sounds were obscene; wet squelching, skin slapping, my broken moans and their low growls. Her dad’s voice cut through the haze. “Tomorrow morning we’re breeding both of you. Gonna fill these young cunts with so much cum you’ll be leaking for days.” The words pushed me over again. I came harder than ever, squirting all over Ethan’s cock, ass pulsing. My vision went white. I felt like I was floating and falling at the same time.

But still, my eyelids are absolutely reluctant to close. As I lay there staring blankly at the ceiling, I suddenly remembered Javier’s collection of horror books. That’s right. A while back, I’d idly picked up one of his scary stories. Since I’m actually a scaredy-cat, every time I read one of those horror stories, I’d immediately be scared out of my wits and end up falling asleep from emotional exhaustion.

"A dangerous rule, Leo. Your father can never find out." "Never," I muttered, my eyes dipping down to her lips. The shared secret only made us ten times hornier. By midnight, my father was sound asleep in the master bedroom, dead to the world from jetlag. I was lying awake in my own bed, wearing nothing but cotton boxers when my bedroom door slowly opened. A slender shadow slipped inside.

I hoped the walls were soundproof, as I didn’t want to overhear any funny business between Silas and his girlfriend. Climbing onto my bed, I reached for my bedside drawer, pulling out a large book with thick pages and a brown cover. It was a book on vampire origins, and basically everything one needed to know about them. Bill had gifted it to my mom as a moving-in present, thinking she might need it living with two vampires under the same roof. If only he knew Mom didn’t read books. Even when I was a kid, she’d make up my bedtime stories on the spot. She found it funny to tell me horror stories before bed.

This was the first time he’d shared a bed with both his Mummy and Daddy, and he couldn’t contain his happiness. "Daddy," he said. "Yes, son?" "Can you tell me a bedtime story? Mummy always does it, but now that you’re staying, you should tell me one." Liam held my hand and Scott’s hand too, as if he wanted the three of us to stay connected forever. "I’m not very good at bedtime stories, but I’ll give it a try," Scott replied. Scott began telling Liam a bedtime story until he fell asleep. I tucked him in with the duvet and turned to the other side of the bed, trying to sleep. But I couldn’t, no matter how hard I tried.

It obviously couldn't be my friends since they were all ahead. “Guys… I think someone’s here,” I whispered, my voice cracking only to be met with laughter. “It’s just the house settling, Sophia. Stop being so paranoid.” I knew that wasn't the issue but I swallowed my words not wanting to ruin the fun. We kept walking, checking the rooms. Nicole walked into a large room with an old four-poster bed covered in dust and faded curtains. My friends started joking about how creepy the old bed looked, laughing about ghost stories while I tried to calm my drumming pulse.

“All the other kids are listening,” “You don’t like horror stories,” I reminded him, but that flew over his head. “I’m grown,” he placed both hands on his waist, giving a superman pose. “See?” he smiled. “I won’t sleep with you tonight,” I said, trying to discourage him, but Elvis was stubborn. “I believe you, little rascal. Let’s go listen to some horror stories,” Arthur said, taking Elvis’ hand. Arthur looked over his shoulder with a grinning face. I guessed they both met their match. Back with everyone, we sat around a large campfire as everyone told their horror stories.

He was lying face down, and face up, all at once. I live in that house now. I am the village "fixer." And every night, I listen to the scratching beneath the floorboards. I don't fear the ones that crawl. I fear the ones that wait. Because now I know that the most terrifying thing in the world isn't death—it’s a corpse that refuses to close its eyes.