Scary Stories To Write Novels & Stories

“So, you believe that there is a possibility that they plotted your father’s death and mother’s disappearance. And there is a great chance that your father’s schemes were discovered, or reported by someone… which eventually lead to his death—ordered to be murdered. And that leaves you to find who did it. Whoever stabbed your father in the back could be someone close to him.” “Correct.” Raverine grabbed a glass of whiskey and took it in one gulp. “Could be his friends or foes or… his own family.” I nodded and turned my attention to the computer screen. I typed in vampires in the search bar and mythical stories came up on the search browser first. “I wonder who wrote these articles and stories

I didn't care that they were all criminals because I just wanted to feel like I belonged somewhere. One of Don's sons went rogue and wanted to get into sex trafficking and drugs. The gang was into some bad things, but nothing like that. When Don refused, his son killed him. That son was Bram. I don't know his real name, but he wanted to be called Bram because he admired Bram Stoker's horror movies. He gave me the creeps.

After two days of high temperatures and intense boredom, he remembered the three books. Sam pulled out the one with the Mummy on the cover, because it looked the most innocuous. It was entitled the Ninth Pan Book of Horror Stories. He wasn’t the least bit prepared for what he found inside. The first three stories involved emasculation, murder and burning at the stake. In his fevered state Sam felt he was not only watching the characters’ suffering, he was experiencing it along with them. He flung the book at the wall and then hid it again, wishing he could burn it like Jinnot, the young girl in the third story who was burned alive.

Anyway, he kept saying that there are horrible creatures that lurk in the darkness here… While growing up he told me the story of the time when he was ten years old, his dog ran out of his family home—this townhome, the home I’m just about my home until my dad gets out of jail and the social worker says I can go back. He goes on and says that he watched his dog die that night being eaten alive by a wolf-like humanoid that he himself barely made it back home to safety. Then there were these stories of the locals being blood-sucking vampires and all the BS surrounding that subject. Oh and the witches of the forest and the great lake—supposedly they lure pregnant women to their deaths and drown

My heart races as the pieces begin to form in my mind. “Wait, what if… what if I don’t just get information for the dark romance?” I say, sitting up straighter. “What if I write about them? Like… a whole book from their point of view. Not their names, obviously. But something like Behind His Eyes: The Truth of a Working Serial Killer.” Jenni stops laughing and stares at me like I’ve completely lost it. “You’re joking, right?” I’m not. Suddenly, I can see it—each twisted, shocking story playing out in my mind. A collection of dark, raw narratives that people would have to read.

Before there were doors between worlds, there were stories. They whispered from hearth to hearth and ship to ship— of wolves that ran like midnight wind, of foxes with nine tails and nine more tricks beyond that, of fae who looked like carved moonlight and smiled like knives. Humans loved those stories—as long as they stayed in books and bedtime. The moment a story breathed, the moment a pair of eyes glinted from a tree line or a shadow stepped out of the corner of a room, humans did what humans do best when they’re afraid.

And maybe in the end I'll succeed. The ideas have never stopped flowing, and amidst the difficulties, I've gathered them together to tell even more stories. I have a notebook full of ideas, story segments just waiting for the right piece to fit into. I've conceived many new universes. I have a love story planned that I hope will make your heart skip a beat, between two young people wounded by the world. A horror story that I hope will take your breath away, with its demons. A fantasy that I hope will transport you to a world of mysterious creatures and strange rites.

.. Tales of vampires and ghosts can only be seen in movies or in mystery books created by authors with deep imaginary thinking. They are Made up stories and nothing more. Maybe I was wrong! I tried to control my nerves but heavy fear gripped me. I shined the torchlight towards the direction of the noise but nothing looked odd. I swallowed hard and took a minute to gather my nerves before taking another step forward.

A murmur spread through the hall — someone laughed, someone asked, “What do you mean, sir?” Raghavan replied, “We will tell stories. One by one. Stories of fear. But remember — every story must carry the scent of truth. Because fear… does not live in lies.” A cold shiver ran through the room. Some students protested, but the professor only smiled and said, “If you don’t believe me, let’s begin with my story.” And slowly, he sat down. The candlelight flickered across his face — and he began to speak.

I tilted the cover just enough to give them a glimpse. “A witch!” “There’s a kitty!” “Is it about ghosts?” The children scrambled off the adults’ laps and crowded closer. “Halloween is almost here. So today, I’m going to read you a story called *The Wonders of Halloween*.” The children eagerly began telling me about the Halloween decorations they had made at school. Before I knew it, even more of them had gathered around me. “Rin was a girl who was afraid of ghosts and the dark. That was why she could not understand why everyone else wanted to turn into ghosts—”