Novel & Cerita Scary Hmong Stories

Makikita sa loob ang mga characters na tulad ng mag-ina sa The Grudge, Sadako sa The Ring, mga samurai, ghoul sa Tokyo Ghoul at iba pa. Ang ikalawang palasyo ay Filipino-inspired. Isang mala-kaharian ng engkanto sa gitna ng gubat kung saan makikita ang mga engkanto, kapre, duwende, maligno, aswang, at kung anu-ano pa.

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

“This ruler, in spite of the fact that a bit dumb in his ancient age, told Heather a few upsettin’ news that she accepted tae be genuine. He told her the soul suckers were comin’, and that we require tae be prepared for them. And they’re comin’ before long. I dinna think I require tae tell ye what will happen when they do.” The table was calm this time as everybody retained that data. In spite of the fact that most of them, like Marc, were as well youthful to have battled in the war between the Fae and the Werewolves, they’d all listened the stories from those who had. Stories of wild-eyed animals running around like meth addicts hyped up on shower salts, taking out everything that breathed

Epilogue: Now that I have written several of these stories, I find that my old ghosts have started to haunt my dreams yet again. It is amazing that once things are written down, they begin to take on a life of their own. Just remember, if you don’t want things to go bump in the night, don’t tell anyone else about them.

Ten-year-old Bree chimed as Emma looked over her shoulder worriedly. “That’s nice, sweetie. Why don’t you tell me about that mermaid story again?” “I hate that story. Can I tell the one about the wolf?” Bran chimed in. “Wolf?” Patrick asked as Brinna looked out the window and saw another animal running alongside their vehicle. “Yeah, the one that eats the girl in the red hood.” “Mommy, I don’t like that story. It is scary.” Bree snuck at the rolling landscape and saw the scary animal with sharp teeth sneering at her, so she pretended to look forward and saw her parents exchange a look.

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.

Story Note: “Room for One More” is a standalone short from my erotic collectiona mix of intense, sensual, and sometimes forbidden stories that explore the raw edges of desire. Each story introduces new characters, new fantasies, and unapologetically explicit encounters. This particular tale features a taboo dynamic between step-siblings, told with heat, dominance, and no holding back. Reader discretion is advised. *************************************************

In 1890, my great-grandmother Takoda was only a child when her ancestors told her stories while they huddled around the campfire with handmade blankets from buffalo hide. Later, she told my mother the same stories about humans who could walk on all fours and pale skins and drink your blood. Nowadays, no one talks about the past, which leads us to believe they are just scary stories the tribe elders tell for fun or to put fear into the youngsters so we won’t enter the woods outside our borders. However, I believe nothing they say. But my grandmother does and never lets my family forget it. I usually get grounded for laughing at her, thinking she’s a crazy old woman.

“Gem!” She dashed through each room, her heart pounding in her chest until she finally stumbled upon the horrifying scene. There lay Gem, lifeless, in a pool of blood, and her holes destroyed. It was the same as Mike and Reed. Before Red could take the next breath, the haunted mansion vanished along with her friends' dead bodies, leaving her frozen and gasping for breath. With the help of a passerby, she was able to return home. As soon as she got there, she told her mother about her pregnancy, and before her father got back from work, they escaped Hamlet together.

Willing to break the silence again, Stone cleared his throat before asking, “what the hell is even a soul harvester? That sounds so made up.“ Everest chuckled at his plain disgust, “It’s a terrifying bed time story parents of the Gareth pack would tell their kids in order to put the fear of the unknown into them. It was, still is, our version of the boggie-man*.” Stone nodded, his calculative look returned. “But how do you know it isn’t real? Most bed time stores are myths and most myths are very real.” He waved at the four of them, “most humans think we are myths.”