Scary Stories Books Novels & Stories

My heart stopped. The world went quiet, except for the sound of the wind through the pines and the blood rushing in my ears. I stared at the black lace in my mom’s hand. It looked like a dead animal. It looked like a confession. I felt a cold shiver of fear, but I couldn't let her see it. My brain was running 3,400 miles a minute, searching for a perfect lie in the valley of lies.

my voice came out as a roar, enough to slice through the curling pheromone and send jolts of shock through the soldiers’ body. They jerked, slowly catching on to what they were doing. They simultaneously turned and saw me, before they sprung to their feet, fear registering on their faces. “Who gave you the permission to touch her?” I asked, and took a step forward. They all bowed their heads, shaking violently. The scent hit me again, stronger this time, as if targeting me alone. If this continued, I didn't know how long till I succumbed. I needed to get her to the witch doctor.

But still, my eyelids are absolutely reluctant to close. As I lay there staring blankly at the ceiling, I suddenly remembered Javier’s collection of horror books. That’s right. A while back, I’d idly picked up one of his scary stories. Since I’m actually a scaredy-cat, every time I read one of those horror stories, I’d immediately be scared out of my wits and end up falling asleep from emotional exhaustion.

*Centuries ago, a time where Vampires, sphinx and werewolves lived together in peace, love and harmony, until evil covered the cloud of Transylvania* My name is Luther, I'm a vampire from the old world, I am over 400 years old, I lived in Transylvania, my father was the over Lord (Dracula) my mom was a werewolf (Tania) from Romania (another city where werewolves and other creatures live) but died 200 years after my younger sisters' birth, her name is Annabelle, she is 300 years old, I was to be dad's successor but everything changed when my father was killed, it was the day of my inauguration, we were ambushed by our own people, sects of disloyal elves and Sphinx, and it all turned out to b

All around them, boys and girls, dressed as monsters and super-heroes, began to titter and giggle, the tension from the story leaving their little bodies. Chloe wasn't afraid of the story; in fact, she had read it before, as well as many others. She didn't have many books at home, but one that she did have was a cheap paperback collection of scary stories that she read over and over again, becoming immune to their quaint shocks. “Alright, kids. I hope that wasn't too scary for you,” the teacher said. The class, as a single unit, assured her that it was not, in fact, too scary. However, several of the children's faces said otherwise.

Those books were older than any of the others in his office. The bottom shelf (the one he’d been searching when he’d first heard the cats playing in the hall) held his collection of horror anthologies. The famed Whispers series, edited by Stuart David Schiff, featuring the varied works of Ramsey Campbell, Stephen King, Charles Grant and so many others. The Mammoth Book of Best New Horror from England. The Shivers series, published by Cemetery Dance. Masques, Borderlands, Shadows, Stalkers, Dark Forces, October Dreams I & II, Corpse Blossoms, Horror Library Volumes 1-5, and Prime Evil. Classic horror anthologies jammed next to paperback collections of slightly lesser repute with titles to mat

That fear stemmed from the legend of what the papers called ‘The Wandering Stranger’. The Wandering Stranger was a prankster who emerged around Halloween time, dressed in a blood spattered funeral shroud, wearing a blank white face mask, and carrying a plastic knife. He would appear in the gardens and windows of local people, staring at them with an eyeless gaze. When Josephine was a child, she remembered hearing about him appearing at the window of a local rest home up town. He’d stood at the window, causing great fear and distress in the elderly. Their fear was so intense that one of them had a heart attack on the spot. Luckily they survived.

she continued. I didn’t wait for further directions and headed that way. Sara was right. The library was crammed with books so rare that I didn’t even think they existed. I ran my fingers over them and stopped at the supernatural section. Werewolves. The variety of these books was astonishing. A Hidden History or Under the Full Moon. But the one that caught my attention was The Grim Howl.

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.

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.