Scary Folk Tales Novels & Stories

"Fairy tales are fictional stories to entertain people, mostly kids. A fairytale contains magical and various other nonsensical things. There are also stories about the lives of animals that can talk." "So, you're saying that I'm from a fairy tale?" Adro asked with his head tilted slightly. Grace chuckled as she shook her head. "I didn't mean to say that; I was just guessing. Many things are still mysteries in this world. But if I have to be honest, wizards, ogres, and dragons do sound impossible to exist in this world ... I mean, in my world." Grace suddenly remembered something. "Speaking of which, can you hide where you come from from my friends, please? Um... actually, it's better to hid

He had just returned to the sofa as Annie came in, her glass of wine in her hand. “Can I borrow this?” he asked. “Didn’t think that was your sort of thing.” replied Annie sitting next to him on the sofa. “I’m getting interested after what you told me about the circle, it’s fascinating. So there are folk tales about us?” he asked, flicking through the pages. “Yes, not just us, fae and other supernatural beings too, ever since history began really. Passed down by word of mouth originally and eventually scribes started writing them down. Some ancient texts survive, they mention us specifically.”

I wanted to know everything "You won't only meet wolves but also faeries, witches, hunters, and Vampires from royal families. There would be nothing to be scared of." I snorted. "Why would I be scared of them? You said they are royal. Just don't let Vampires bite me. " Mere thought of seeing their fangs sent a shiver down my spine. I have heard stories from Jack uncle. They're dangerous and can hypnotize you. "They're far different from the stories Charles has told you. Are you getting me, kiddo?" He asked.

She knew she’s told him about the suppression spell having just been removed. “This creature reminds me a lot of some of the native tales about horrors in the woods. I always thought they were told to keep the white man away. Now, however, I’m wondering how many people died during pioneer times because they didn’t listen to the warnings of the native folk.” Franco was flipping through a printout from Ebony’s mother about the wight.

’ He sniffled. ‘Maybe I can find a way to fix that, too,’ I muttered, scanning the pages of an ancient, dusty book I’d found buried in Moon Chasm’s library. I didn’t find anything. There were old fairy tales, so old they barely seemed recognisable anymore, that spoke of affronted gods casting down their children and making the first wolves. Some were classic tales, like the one about three pups going too near a river and being turned into toads to save them from drowning; others were cautionary tales, warning young wolves away from humans and forbidding any sort of romances between us and them – all in a fun, rhyming sort of way, of course.

There is just something about the dark that is so scary. I might be a werewolf but those ghost stories do scare the hell out of me. I kept imagining seeing things as we walked through the forest. A tree that looked like a giant person, a short person with a big head and no eyes. ‘Ahhhhh, what in the world is wrong with you? You are supposed to be the strongest, bravest she-wolf but here you are being afraid of ghosts,' my wolf said and I chuckled. I did that to wake her up, she had been too quiet for my liking.

If I had to guess, they probably didn’t get very many visitors down here. “Usss too.” It said back to me, and I swore I could hear a hint of sadness in the piercing voice. The answer left me confused, and even more shaken than I already was. These were the beings my village told ghost stories about. Horrible, malformed, and endlessly vicious creatures that had tried to kill their own mothers. They were the things that went bump in the night, and attacked without a second thought. What would they have to be scared of?

“Not your storybook princesses. Not fish-tailed angels. But creatures of tide and hunger. Their songs aren’t lullabies, they are traps. They drag ships under, for fun. For vengeance. For a different kind of delicacy.” I saw black eyes in green water, mouths filled with rows of sharp teeth. I was gripping the stool so hard my knuckles ached. “Fair folk,” she said, her voice turning sharp. “Don’t ever call them fairies. That word is a lie. They are not cute. They are not kind. They are old as time, twisted by beauty and cruelty. They trade in riddles and pain. Step into their realm, and time will forget you. You will come back hollow, if you come back at all.”

– Skyler asks. “The stories say that elves are tall and beautiful. I don't think it's an elf. I would say it’s a fairy.” "You're kidding, right? Fairies don't exist. There is nothing about fairies except in human children's books. It must be an insect, and the screams come from somewhere else.” “It’s the creature who screams. It seems trapped in a web.” Skyler and the wolf have to make a decision. Whatever it was, it was trapped and about to be eaten by a giant spider.

“The Snow-Child?” “Well, it directly translates to Snow Maiden but yes. It was one of the stories she used to tell us as children. Usually if we couldn’t sleep.” “Is it good?” I hummed. “Yes. I mean, it’s better than most Russian tales. It is bittersweet though.” “Russian folklore is fascinating but it is really kind of messed up.” Chuckling, I stood up and shook my head. “You’re not wrong but most older folklore is. It was meant to evoke a level of fear, or understanding, or sympathy, or wariness to children. That usually meant it needed to really hammer home the point.”