Scary Mystery Books Novels & Stories

Yeah, he'd learned to practice patience, but dealing with the police while they questioned Betty had just about driven him to the edge of reason. He opened the car door for her, holding her elbow as she climbed in. Daylight had waned, and the parking garage was dimly lit, the sound of other hospital visitors echoing through the cement structures. Betty listened for other things. Furtive footballs on the pavement. The click of a gun safety being released. The slide of fabric or the soft huff is a breath. Someone had tried to kill Dan just a few weeks ago, and there was no reason to believe that person would be content to let him live. The road went quiet as he stepped around the car. The soun

Arthur just shrugged. Mila gave him a vexed look and flipped through the pages. She was looking for a cannibal who was scared of light, but there were quite a few monsters mentioned in this book that were cannibals and were afraid of light. So, she started looking at illustrations to see if any bite marks matched the victims, but there was nothing. “Oh, this was a waste,” Mila snapped the book shut. Arthur was still very quiet. “What is wrong with you?” Mila demanded.

Shaking her head, she said, "But aren't you only like that because you idiotically accepted an accursed book from a nobody? You said, you don't even believe in ghosts before you got that." He sighed and took out the book which always appeared inside his pocket for several months now. The book was giving off a mysterious vibe due to its black worn-out cover featuring a faceless monster. He got it from a fake friend who had styled himself as a book collector. Nathan was a horror writer so he accepted the creepy book. His initial objective was only to look for more ideas and inspiration. Who would have thought the horror writer who never believed in ghost would suddenly start seeing creepy ghos

“…the lady in the shadows…the one who watches you and wants you dead…” As the little girl's words from her vision swept over her,Beth felt a sense of terrifying unease. It was a coincidence,she told herself,nothing more.It was impossible that the little girl and Marcus could be speaking of the same thing,it was just impossible! “The lady in the shadows?”she said,her hands trembling in fear. In her mind she saw herself lying cold and frozen in that casket.

She fumbled forward, her bound hands outstretched in front of her like a blind person feeling their way through a dark room. The passageway twisted and turned, leading her deeper into the unknown. Emma's senses were on high alert, her heart pounding in her chest like a jackhammer. She stumbled forward, her bound hands grasping for support, her fingers scraping against the cold, damp walls. The air was musty and dank, filled with the scent of decay and rot. Emma's stomach churned with nausea as she navigated the dark passageway, her mind racing with worst-case scenarios.

I sat beside her, and she immediately stretched her legs back out, her feet landing in my lap. "What are you reading?" She held up the book without looking away from the page. "A mystery novel. A detective in Victorian London." I caught sight of the cover. A woman in a low-cut dress leaned against a man in a top hat, their faces inches apart in the fog. The Scarlet Letter Murders. I grabbed the book from her hands. "Hey!" She sat up, reaching for it. I flipped through a few pages. My eyes landed on a passage. His mouth found the hollow of her throat as his fingers worked the laces of her corset…

The title sent shivers through me: 'Dark Powers, Secrets of the Werewolves'. I opened the book, and a strange glow emanated from the pages. I felt a sudden jolt, like a surge of electricity had passed through me. The room began to spin, and I fell to the ground, the book slipping from my grasp. As I struggled to get up, I heard the old woman's voice, urgent and worried. 'Ryker! Ryker, what's wrong?' She rushed into the room, her eyes scanning me frantically. Then her gaze fell upon the book, and her expression changed to one of alarm. 'Oh, no. You shouldn't have touched that.'

Observing it he quirked a questioning brow at the title. Murderous case files, a thriller mystery book he had read years ago. Mainly consisting of gore and graphic details of killing he had dropped it, never even getting past the first chapter. If he recalled the very first sentence described a horrific scene of a man who had cut his wife's throat. Many would have stopped reading at the very first scene yet for some reason this woman was so intrigued with the book that she had nearly forgotten she was conversing with me. How interesting. The more I learn about her the more she seems to shock me.

My gaze trails across the shelves… until one in particular catches my attention. My feet carry me toward a shelf tucked into the far left corner of the lowest level. I don’t know why, but something about it pulls me in like an invisible thread guiding my steps. The closer I get, the stronger the sensation grows. The hairs on my arms rise. Mystical wolves.That’s what the plaque above the shelf reads, written in old silver script. I scan the spines of the books.Most are worn, dusty, untouched for years. One of them catches my eye. A thick, royal blue book with no title. Just a crescent white moon etched in the center of the cover.

The air is filled with the scent of old parchment and dust. I move between the towering shelves. My fingers trail along the spines of books as I pass—histories, war, bestiaries, and ancient cities. None of them feel like they hold the answers I need. But I keep searching. I pull down a heavy tome on supernatural entities and flip through it. Nothing. I grab another book on creatures of the old world. Still nothing. My pulse quickens with every empty page. I can’t stop seeing that creature’s eyes. I can’t stop hearing the demon’s word.