Scary Stories To Write About Novels & Stories

And it’s already had a taste . Tales from The Lake Vol.1 anthology—Remember those dark and scary nights spent telling ghost stories and other campfire stories? With the Tales from The Lake horror anthologies, you can relive some of those memories by reading the best Dark Fiction stories around. Includes Dark Fiction stories and poems by horror greats such as Graham Masterton, Bev Vincent, Tim Curran, Tim Waggoner, Elizabeth Massie, and many more. Be sure to check out our website for future Tales from The Lake volumes.

He asked politely as he looked from me to Tasha for approval. “ Why not? The more, the merrier.” Tasha replied and Arnold stepped in to walk beside us, making me the middle man. “Alright so it's time for some midnight stories from dear Arnold, anything you have for us Arnold?” Tasha asked Arnold, who smiled. He was obviously pleased with her words. “Hm… I could share my experience killing the strange creatures that live here. Okay, what is your opinion of the scariest and strangest creature?” Arnold asked as he folded his arms.

by the time the sun shimmers at the horizon behind me and the crescent moon dips below the horizon before me, I have thought of every word I know of to describe really, really, really boring walking. There is absolutely nothing here. I think of the stories we told each other when we were pups. About wraiths that lived beneath the sand of the Barren that would pull you down into their nests. They would paralyze you and then their grubs would feed off you, slowly eating you alive. That was a favorite. There are the roaming packs of wilder-scorpions, creatures that are half beast, half scorpion. Where the beast's tail should be is a scorpion's sting that will cause your skin to turn black and t

she commented. “Well… actually there is more…” I laughed feeling awkward about throwing everything on her at once. Fortunately, she was way to excited hearing about my quite supernatural stories to tell me to stop. I even thought she might have been memorizing my words for the sake of writing scenarios in the future. Unfortunately, there was nothing romantic about my last night's experience, it sounded more like a scene from a horror movie. I kept trembling even reminiscing those moments I was Immara.

I followed Tami’s lead and opened a secure site. Anonymous submissions. Document uploads. Testimonies. By the end of the second day, there were five. Five stories. Different names. Different years. Same monster. That night, I sat on the couch with a blanket around my shoulders and read every word. One girl talked about an after-hours meeting that turned into something she couldn’t speak about for a year. Another had a panic attack during a college tour when she saw him on a panel. Each story stitched a clearer picture—of how he operated, where he hunted, who he targeted.

Tess I find many things in this world scary: walking to the bathroom late at night when you don’t have a nightlight on, fake friends, the members of the Safir pack, and last, and probably my biggest fear, is the thought of spending eternity alone. Sue me for thinking that’s a terrible fate, but that is how I feel without lying to myself.

“She never had any reason to tell the story again.” Lady Walter stood on her feet. “Nobody really tells the story of Rogues anymore. It’s too scary for children. Now we tell the pups about your boogeymen to scare them into growing their claws faster.” There was a ridiculing smile on her face as she walked by Kihara and disappeared into the hallway.

She found it funny to tell me horror stories before bed. I remembered once returning the favor. I told her about Terry the ghost, a boy who’d died in an accident on the street across from our house. Terry’s ghost wandered our neighbor’s house where his family had once lived. Mom hadn’t slept alone for weeks after that, and she never told me another horror story. My mom was like me in some ways—she was terrified of the paranormal, or anything religious. That’s why her engagement to Bill had been such a shock. But even Mom had gotten braver, so why couldn’t I?

It coiled my nerves and spine, weighing in the air like something tangible. I remembered Mom telling me stories when I was younger. Some were just simple bedtime stories to help me sleep, but others were scary ghost stories goaded on by Leo. Wanting to be brave like my older brother, I begged for them too. She was a silver-tongued narrator. Whether it was Goldilocks and the Three Bears or an old Italian ghost story, Mom painted pictures so vividly it was as if she’d experienced them firsthand. And I knew what she was about to tell me was a firsthand experience, and she was going to weave an image that would likely keep me up at night wondering if Mattia was going to appear standing over my b

She pleaded and hastily reached the exit almost slipping on her legs when the vampire stopped her. "Clean your face. Anxiety is written all over it. Nobody should know what happened to you. Else..." He left his words hanging churning her insides with terror. Amara didn't want him to continue. She quickly made a 'u' turn to the washroom and washed her face hurriedly with soap and water. Amara was heaving almost going out of breath. Just as she was about to enter the exit, the beast stopped her again. "Remember one wrong step or a doubtful question by your relatives perceiving your anxious features, the owner of the voice will be killed right in front of your eyes." The beast intimidated peri