Scary Bedtime Stories Novels & Stories

In a nice voice I reply “Just had the scariest nightmare of my life. Why are you awake at 2 in the morning?” If I had of called anyone else, they would have ripped my head off for calling at such an ungodly hour. “Oh, you poor baby, its okay it was just a nightmare.” She purrs. There’s a short pause before she says “Aaron is over and we are watching horror movies, my

"What kind of weakness is that? I wasn't afraid of ghosts in the first place, and it was all because of you suddenly spouting nonsense, okay? I've heard even scarier than this before." In terms of the ability to properly tell ghost stories, Cynthia had the ability to make others crawl into bed. She still remembered how she had told her the ghost story. When Libby woke up at night to go to the bathroom, she didn't dare to go alone. In those years, she had gone to the toilet with Libby many times in the middle of the night. But in the past, it was probably because she knew too well that she felt that a story was a story, so she wasn't too afraid.

“We’ll stay until you fall asleep.” Liam lies back down, his little hand reaching out to grab mine. I sit on his other side, smoothing the blanket over him. “Daddy, tell me a story,” he mumbles, his voice already heavy with sleep. Jason chuckles softly, leaning down. “Once upon a time, there was a brave little wolf who loved his Mommy and Daddy very much but was scared to sleep alone in his bed...” By the time Jason finishes the short tale, Liam is breathing evenly, lost in dreams. Jason glances at me, his voice barely above a whisper. “He’s out.”

She had no idea that now Alex's car had stopped on the patio of the man's mansion. “I think Heidi got into bed. The lights in her room were bright." Alex pointed at Heidi's room which was on the patio. "Since when is Heidi afraid of the dark?" "Since childhood. Since she started to know monsters and the like. Her mother used to read her fairy tales. And then the fairy tales spoil Heidi's common sense." "But the world of children is like that," said Harper disapprovingly. If she had children, she would also read fairy tales to them before going to bed.

Let’s see if we have another story in here to make me sleepy. The Whispering Shadows Once upon a time, in a quiet village nestled at the edge of a dense and mysterious forest, lived a mischievous child named Oliver. Oliver had a reputation for being the naughtiest kid in town. He would play pranks on his neighbors, sneak into forbidden places, and rarely listened to his parents' warnings. One day, as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows across the village, Oliver's parents decided it was time to teach him a lesson. They gathered the children of the village around a crackling bonfire and began to tell a story that sent shivers down everyone's spines.

I smile hoping if I repeat that Asher and all of those men that were fighting to keep us safe would deal with those people, none of us would need to worry. “But how do we not worry?” Another asks me standing up and walking into the middle of the room, all of them still in their pyjamas, this telling me they all must have been tucked up in bed when all of this started. “There are many things we can do to stop the scared feelings, I know a story that my mummy told me when I was younger to stop me worrying about monsters, would you like me to tell you it too?” I ask looking at all of them which did peak their interests, a few begin to walk over and sit in front of me to listen, after a little w

As I stepped out and fumbled for my towel, a spooky creak scraped along the doorframe, sending a jolt of fear through my veins. Gosh, why did I do this to myself? I had this terrible habit of reading horror stories and spending sleepless nights huddled under the covers in fear. And then it came again, the same scraping noise but followed by muffled, ominous laughter. It was definitely not my overactive imagination. Did someone else use this room when I wasn't around at night? Goosebumps erupted across my already prickling skin as I slowly opened the door a sliver to look. It was only a quarter past nine, too early for ghosts to come out. At least in the stories I read, they waited till midni

That I also used that spoon just moments ago? My face heated up, and I avoided his gaze. “I'm going to the bathroom.” I quickly tell him and then I run out of the room, so as to not make a fool of myself again.. ¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤ That night, before I left, Sophia and Franklin asked me to tell them a bedtime story. Even though I had experiences in putting Xavier and Clayton to sleep, I only knew of the story of the three little pigs and of course Cinderella but my boys weren't ever interested in that second one.

Tonight was our first official sleepover in the treehouse, and we'd dragged up sleeping bags, flashlights, and enough snacks to last a week. "Tell me a scary story," Avy said, settling into her sleeping bag. "I don't know any scary stories." "Make one up." "Okay, um..." I pointed my flashlight at my face for dramatic effect. "Once upon a time, there was a girl who read so many books that her eyes fell out." "That's not scary, that's stupid." "Fine. There was a boy who was so bad at football that the football grew teeth and ate him." Avy giggled. "You're terrible at this."

Just remember, if you don’t want things to go bump in the night, don’t tell anyone else about them. Even now the shadows in my room play havoc with my subconscious, so I turn the light on and sleep with one eye open. Also, when my computer starts to go on the fritz just as I write a particularly spooky part of a story, I chuck it up to chance and swallow a little harder before checking to make sure that I have only one shadow. It’s amazing that I still get so scared as an adult. You sure would have thought that for someone who makes a living scaring people, I would know better, right?