Scary Hooked Stories Novels & Stories

Today we all celebrated that i was awake and thankfully alive. Author’s Note Hey Guys, We have about 2 more chapters to go before the ending of ‘hooked up’ Thank you for reading

Finally, the message arrived. “Dear valued customer, hello. Your Succubus is not malfunctioning, nor is he ill. He is simply extremely hungry and needs you. Not food, but you. This includes, but is not limited to, kissing, hugging, and any form of… intimate energy exchange. Wishing you a pleasant experience!” I froze, my fingers shaking. I read the message again. And again. The words, simple and clear, had a weight I couldn't ignore. Hungry. He needed me. Me. Not food in the usual way, but something more than basic, more intimate, more wonderfully scary??

As the stories got scarier, I noticed a few of the younger pack members huddling closer to their parents, seeking comfort and reassurance. Soon, it was my turn to share a story. Feeling the weight of the moment, I cleared my throat and began my tale. "In a small village, there was a haunted mansion. It was said that the spirit of a vengeful witch roamed the halls, seeking revenge on anyone who dared to enter her domain..." I let my imagination run wild, conjuring spine-chilling scenes and mysterious characters. The pack leaned in closer, their eyes wide with fascination, hanging onto every word I spoke. The suspenseful atmosphere made my heart race with excitement.

And I didn’t expect her to fucking torture me with that image. I want to lose myself in her right now, but I also want to see that gleam in her eye when she learns something new. I take a deep breath. I promised myself a real shot with her, so ghost stories it is. But damn, it’s gonna be one hell of a long night. “Can you die from blue balls?” Hendrix mocks. “Ready to explore the supernatural tales of Waterloo?” She asks, biting her lip, her voice filled with excitement. “I’ve grown up around these legends, remember?” I say, still trying to pull myself together.

By hook or crook. ---

“Okay, that is so gross.” “What?” “A chewed on finger, and it’s not been chewed on by an animal.” That made Ian all but gag. “Oh god, seriously? Why would someone do that?” “If they are alive? For power? Undead? A desperately sick need for life force.” Yolanda carefully stepped over the evidence. “We’ll pick it up on the way out. If it attracts anything to its by scent, then I don’t want it on my person.”

I wrapped my hand around his throat and let my nails elongate enough to pierce his skin, his blood beginning to drip down, staining my white shirt. The smell was intoxicating to my inner demon, and he wanted more. I saw the guys behind us trying to scramble away, but to their surprise, I had made the door disappear so there was nothing but four walls surrounding us. Their fear was enough to make me laugh, dropping the man in my clutch and throwing him into the wall. I wasn’t done with the one that I had started with, but my demon wanted the blood of Bradley more than anything.

The wind blows, the worm that keeps kicking is cut with the end of the hook, it dies instantly. The fish smell the blood of the worm. They are fearful and immobile, watching the lifeless body of the worm at the end of the hook, the man remains still. One of the youngest and most inexperienced fish, swimming calmly towards the worm, the man remains still. The little fish watches the worm closely, the man moves the hook. The scared fish runs away. The other fish lose interest in the worm, the man remains still. A more experienced fish, big and old, cautiously approaches the hook.

Lucas had been gone for hours, leaving me to the not so careful ministrations of Magda. The wart nosed witch who I had clobbered over the head with a candlestick. She was hunched forwards with a permanent hunchback and cloudy milky white eyes signalling that her eyesight was diminished with cataracts. She almost looked like she had taken a step out of a Greek mythology book and was actually one of the fabled grey sisters, who determined all living creatures fate. Perhaps she was, all myths derived from elements of truth. Any second now she was going to pull out a pair of rusty old scissors and cut my life cord into two. I held back a giggle at the thought.

When she came across the Dodge Ram, Bryce was hanging by his feet from the tree that was next to it. Upon closer inspection, she discovered long thin scratches across the body of the pickup truck. Dawn traced them with her fingers and paused when they ended at a bloody hook dangling from a wing mirror. “Oh, crap”, she breathed. She was fully aware of the legend…of the multiple urban legends of the Hook Man. She hoped that this was a macabre coincidence and not the vengeful spirit coming out to play. ~0~