Novel & Cerita Scary Folklore

Sylvie was slightly furious. "What, are you belittling me just because I'm a woman?!" Ifor smirked but ignored her as he walked straight toward Frank. In just two steps, they all heard a noisy rustle of bushes and turned to find a dozen glowing eyes glaring at them. "I-Is that a ghost?" Scar asked, afraid. "Ghost, my ass." Ifor snorted in annoyance. "There's no such thing—it must be some animal. The old man was right—there's something strange on this hill!"

She tells us about the ‘hamferð’ and Sylvana jokes how creepy and possibly even dangerous it is, but Tilda shakes her head. “The thing is… that people are generally not scared when they see someone in ‘hamferð’. They would never harm anyone, just bring a message about them either dying or having died, usually at sea. So instead of reacting with fear of seeing ghosts that haunt them, people react with grief. Not the horror of mere fantasy, but the real horror…the fear of losing someone you love.” She seems to ponder on her own words for a bit, looking sad as she appears to remember something.

Liora asked. Misty chuckled. "How can I be afraid when I can't see the person? She has to appear before me to scare me, right? In addition, are ghosts scary?" Liora shook her head. "No, spirits can only frighten people at most, while humans are the most terrifying. Just like Scott, who is still bothering Mommy. He is responsible for my daddy's death!" Misty chuckled. "That's insignificant." Liora was confused. 'Why does Ms. Crawford sound more formidable than Scott?'

My heart skips a beat when I read the notes. “There’s a note on the file saying two of the victims were reported dead.” I peer over the back of Caleb’s shoulder as another cold breeze hits us. “Is the pub closed off to the public?” “Nope.” He doesn’t look back. “The folk here like haunted shit. You should see all the tours they already do. Witches. Ghosts. Scotland’s built on folklore and mythology.” That could explain why humans aren’t as freaked out about nyxies as they should be. Maybe they just think it’s superstition. Who knows.

“Wolves didn’t kill those men. But you don’t think so either, do you?” Agnes leaned closer, her breath smelling faintly of mint and smoke. “They call it the Hollow Beast. Always have. It comes when the moon is fat and white, when the woods are thick with fog. It takes one, sometimes two. Then it sleeps again for a generation.” Evelyn stiffened. “That sounds like folklore.” Agnes’s smile widened, almost pitying. “Science is young here, Doctor. The forest is old. There are things your books don’t name.”

Juan says, obviously as confused as I feel. “The size is that of a large dog,” I muse. “It’s not from this world, that much I am certain off… whatever was-” I’m cut off suddenly. “It’s a chupacabra,” Carlos says suddenly. “A what?” I ask, grabbing a rod and prodding the thing. “Madre told me about them in her stories of old folklore. They’re vampire-like creatures that suck the blood of livestock and naughty children,” he says, his face pale.

I asked frowning, I have never heard about this. Ray laughed, “ It was in the bedtime stories, my mother and granny used to recite them to us to make us scared of going out in the middle of the night. you know how pups are! As soon as they start shifting that’s what they all want to do for a long time. The male pups even go out at night to run through the woods. So to keep me and my brothers safe, my mother and granny told us this myth. How at night a creature who is not man nor beast roams the landing of woods and if pups go there, he will eat them.”

It was late autumn when they arrived — the trees skeletal, the air thick with a kind of oppressive stillness that seemed to hum beneath the surface of the world. Emily Carter, a graduate student in folklore and urban legends, had heard the whispers about WildWood all her life. She had grown up just a few towns over and had spent years gathering the old stories: tales of the “vanishing patients,” the “howling trees,” and the “night doctors” said to stalk the forest paths. Determined to separate fact from myth, Emily organized an expedition for her thesis, enlisting a few brave companions:

“Oh. So if I want a pudding, all I smell is that?” He nodded, leaning forward on the table. “Yes.” “When you said other paranormal,” My thoughts went to Connor and Reed. “Did you mean fairies, vampires, ghosts, satyr and werewolves?” All the people in the room audibly gasped and turned their heads to our table, fear written on their faces. I looked around nervously and flinched. Uncle Al shot out of his seat. “Sorry about that,” he chuckled then said, “there are no Forbidden here.”

WITH ONLY one day left to Halloween, the people of Cape Cod were already setting into the mood of the Oktoberfest event. House yards were filled with spooky figures like white cloths to represent ghosts and the jack-o'-lanterns of course. Jake had stashed the book inside a compartment in his room, hoping the degenerate creatures of the dark would not find it. Certainly, there had to be a way to destroy all of them with the book and not just lifting it up in front of them when they showed up.