Scary Stalkers Novels & Stories

'It appears to be that we need to reconsider our own staff! This thought streaked through Ross' brain, then, at that point, he considered something and said, "Does he need to kill them individually? Close battle or long-range shooting? In any case, regardless of what, his redesign this time will leave more hints for us. He has gradually left the shadows." Monica said, "You can say that, however the stalkers are the most perilous kind of chronic executioners. They will just go after brilliantly. They are like phantoms."

' 'Stalking ' My spine straightened up involuntarily at these words . Stalking Stalking Stalk - The day at the park ! Banging on my computer table I stood up , my heart thudding anxiously , while my palms started sweating . The day at the park when I was with Jacob , someone was there , someone was really there - yes it could have been a coincidence and maybe someone was just passing by . But - But what if someone was really stalking us ? I was certain that I felt someone's gaze locked upon me and Jacob and if someone was just passing by , how was it possible for them to vanish into thin air just like that ? Why would they try to hide when I turn to look at them ..

hours before. I am out of my words seeing all these pictures of me taken without my knowledge and I didn't know the person behind this. I thought I am just being paranoid due to yesterday's events but no I am not being paranoid but I am being stalked by someone who is following me everywhere and they know my address and the places I go. I don't know from when they are stalking and why? What do they want from me? This is not the time to get a panic attack and a blackout. I can't show people my weakness. If someone is trying to scare me then I'll show them that Scarlett rose Williams is not the girl that gets scared easily.

“What’s going on?” “Her stalker is in her house. Curt Fowler. He’s a friend of a Wyatt Pierce, her ex-boyfriend, and some lycan supremacist dick.” “Wait, not the artist?” My stomach flipped with my irritation. “Yes, the fucking artist. Are you dispatching or what?!”

My eyes close as the sparks travel throughout my body, and I try to focus on the now. “It’s okay. I need to tell this, and it should be now. This way, you are well informed and can decide if you still want to go through with this.” I’m about to tell her how dumb that sounds, but the look on her face forces me to be quiet. She’s serious about this, and I don’t want to downplay her feelings. “I have a stalker.” I look at Atlas, who is expressionless, as always. I look at Akia, and her face is as serious as a heart attack. Let me reserve judgment for now. “It started when I was 11 and it hasn’t stopped really. I’m originally from the Silent Crest Pack. Even though there’s no proof, I know that

The arrival of the "Stalkers" turned the "Unmapped" North into a "Living Theme Park." These were not the Architects with their clinical logic, nor the "Voters" with their distant indifference. These were the "Obsessed"—the humans who had spent years "Subscribed" to the Thorne-Blackwood bloodline, and who had used the Gallery’s fall as an opportunity to physically enter their favorite "Exhibition." They stood in the courtyard, their modern fabrics looking like "Narrative Errors" against the violet-gold stone of the keep. They didn't have weapons; they had "Observation Units"—devices that recorded every scent, every tear, and every drop of biological gold.

One of the soldiers outside let out a cry that was cut short by a wet, tearing noise. "They are here," Zayn whispered, his face turning pale. "The first wave. But these aren't vampires." I walked to the window, my hands beginning to glow with that bright red light. Through the mist, I saw shapes moving. They were tall, thin, and had too many limbs. They looked like skeletons wrapped in rotting skin. "Shadow Stalkers," Zayn growled, stepping beside me and shifting his arm into a massive, scaled limb. "These must be demons that serve Dracula to stay in this world. i have read about them in the myths."

The corridor feels too long and, worse, empty. I risk a glance over my shoulder. Then I see the stalker. Their hood is pulled low, baggy clothes making them look shapeless and faceless. And they are definitely following me. Cold dread floods my veins as I snap my head forward again. Don't panic, Nova. Just... keep moving. But the footsteps quicken too.

--------- Later at night: "Hey can you come out already? We will be leaving USA tomorrow. Don't you have work? Don't you have to check if everything is fine? What if another stalker attacks? What if one of us dies?- oops...I went to far. What if one of us gets badly injured? What then? Hey, Cilia Carpenter, are you listening?"

The stalker, the one who had haunted her nightmares and pursued her relentlessly, was none other than Tony. The revelation paralyzed her with terror, the weight of the situation sinking in. Trapped in the clutches of a delusional stalker, Bella's mind raced with the grim understanding that her ordeal had taken an even darker turn. The air hung heavy with a chilling sense of dread, as the relentless nightmare seemed to unfold with no respite in sight.