Scary Bedtime Stories Novels & Stories

Tonight, as usual, was full of a lot more fun than usual. Boys who didn't have to go to the evening class were excited and cheering loudly in the dark, almost like werewolves howling all the time when the moon is full. Outside, the wind was very strong, and lightning and thunder were going off. In this kind of situation, it makes sense to tell ghost stories. The four men went to bed and took turns telling each other stories. They purposely lowered their voices so that they could barely be heard in the dark, which caused even more worry and tension. When they heard this, it was only natural for their heads to feel numb.

“Seriously Ashley, I might get upset if you go through my messages.” “Dumb boy messages, just let go of me, I don't care anymore.” “Promise?” “Yeah.” She scoffed and he did, she didn't try taking the phone again and he lay beside her. “You should be sleeping, it's late already.” “I know and am exhausted, but I can't seem to fall asleep. Can you tell me a bedtime story?” “Bedtime stories are for kids, not twenty-one-year-olds.” “Just tell me one.” “Okay, I don't really know much so how about I tell you the story of a demon who has lived for over a thousand years.”

Just as he approached a room’s doorway, he heard Tina and Kara’s conversation drifting from inside the room. “Tonight’s bedtime story is called ‘Tadpoles Searching for Their Mommy.’ The warm spring is here… A bunch of little tadpoles want to look for their mommy… After overcoming all the obstacles, the little tadpoles finally found their froggy mommy. Together, they lived happily ever after…” Tina’s tone was gentle as she read the bedtime story out loud from the storybook to her daughter. Kara lay in her arms, her heavy eyelids already glued together. She struggled to say, “The little tadpoles are very pitiful… I won’t be separated from you, Mommy… Even if we do get separated, I’ll find you

Heading upstairs, she made a detour to Lemon's room. It was already late, and the kids would usually be asleep by now. Mable gently pushed the door open and saw Nicki and Spike sitting on either side of the bed, telling Little Lemon a bedtime story and coaxing her to sleep. "The big bad wolf caught Little Red Riding Hood and wanted to eat her, but Little Red Riding Hood was clever. She told the big bad wolf that her house had many little lambs, and she was willing to take him there. The big bad wolf, greedy and arrogant, believed Little Red Riding Hood and followed her."

She finally blinked, turning away from me to grab the broom from the corner of the kitchen without making eye contact. “It's a myth,” she muttered, her back still turned. “A myth,” I repeated, not buying it for a second. “An old one.” She swept the broken glass into a neat pile, her movements tight and forced. “The elders used to tell it to the pups to keep them from wandering out into the woods at night. A scary name, a scary story. That's all it is.” “So I just happened to have a horrific nightmare about a bedtime story I've never even heard before?”

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.

]* Bedtime. Not Alex’s room. Not ‘through.’ Our room. Big bed. Knight bed. Day 1 bed. Twins. Middle. Already asleep. Sand in hair. _HOME_ washed off. Still there. Alex. End of bed. Book. _Not_ shark. _Not_ court. _Not_ 11 seconds. _The House That Was Just Home._ Susan wrote it. Last night. 4 AM. “Therapy,” she said. Illustrated it. Stick figures. Us. Bear. No bad men.

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.

At that point, she was the only one who remained relatively calm and was no longer as hostile toward me as before. I was aware that the death of the three women earlier had left them terrified of me. "I'll take you to your dorm. But remember, once the lights go out, don't leave your beds," I warned them. After all, the night was far scarier than the day in our factory.

I cleared. "I am wondering." I chuckled nervously. "I wondered the same when my father told me about it, I was nine, I couldn't sleep then," "Haha, you were scared, I never get to hear one you know. Some of these horror books were forbidden by my parents. Instead, they would read to me moonlight stories, fairy princesses and all." "I doubt you look anything like a princess, you lack etiquette." "That's a rude way to speak to a lady." "My apologies."