Scary Stories Written Novels & Stories

She didn't want to hear anymore of the frightening story. "Don't tell me you're all scared. It's a myth, I made it up!" John smirked, his eyes gazing at the scared faces of his girlfriend and friends. "Ha ha ha, scared? I've never been scared of anything in my life!" Rocky roared in laughter as he rose from the ground. "Scary stories don't scare me. I'm gonna pee!" He uttered still grinning. "Don't wander far into the woods, you never know who you'll meet." John warned in a playful but spooky voice.

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.

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.

He only had to wait for Lucy to edit it. The feeling of satisfaction and relief washed over him that instant as he rested his fingers for a minute before going at it again. He had already written two collections of horror stories submitted to his editor. The intention was for some of the mild and medium scary tales to be published on paperbacks. However, the truly mind-blowing and sick horror stories were published digitally on web novel websites where he would have no problem bypassing censorship by replacing disturbing words with asterisks and euphemisms. The feeling of writing without being stared at by dozens of eyes from filthy beings made his mood ecstatic. His fingers were literally f

He wrote about them based on the myths that he had heard, read, and gathered while continuing his daily life. "Van, open the door!" He groaned and got up from his seat. "What do you want? I’m writing." Van answered with no soul in his voice. He never let go of his passion for writing. Unfortunately, there was barely anyone wanting to buy any of his recent books. His patrons who used to buy his work say that his recent ones are too scary to be read as a children’s tale and too alarming to be enjoyed by adults. Still, he continued to write about those creatures unknown to men, lurking in the dark and waiting for the perfect victim.

I couldn’t go back to sleep, I was scared of my own mind, having an overactive imagination turned to be a curse in lonely nights, every sound, every murmur my brain translated and turned into a monster hiding in the darkness. “A story, but you are the writer between the two of us,” she says in a reply with a chuckle, she’s right usually I’m the one who makes up the stories, I’m the author, and I’m really proud about it. “I know, but tonight, I need you to do it,” I say in a sad voice, it was more of a whisper, I can’t tell her a story, not with how scared I’m feeling right now, my story would be one about ghosts, fear, demons that lurk outside your home and not the one under the bed ready to

EMMA The walk up the stairs felt like a fever dream. My legs were still shaky from the two massive orgasms Sarah had ripped out of me downstairs, and my inner thighs were slick with a mixture of my own juices and her saliva. Jake’s cum had dried in streaks on my skin, but my pussy was already throbbing again, aching to be filled. Sarah led us by the hand—her full, naked body glowing under the hallway light, heavy tits bouncing with every step, ass jiggling enticingly. Jake followed close behind, his thick cock still rock-hard and bouncing, glistening from fucking Sarah’s cunt.

He stepped closer, eyes gleaming with the same sick hunger from the elevator. “Miss me?” he asked softly. I was trapped in my own apartment with him, and no one knew I was here. Terror shot through me like ice. I backed away until my back hit the wall. “Get out,” I said, my voice shaking. “Leave right now or I’ll scream.” He smiled, that same twisted smile. “Go ahead. Scream. No one’s coming.”

Lydia stared at me for a moment before letting out a long sigh. “You’re unbelievable, but what if something happens." she muttered. “Lydia, stop thinking like that,” I said, shaking my head. “I don’t know,” she replied with a suspicious look. “I’m just saying… the guy sounds like some rich hotshot. What’s his name again?” “Jack,” I answered, almost bursting into laughter. “See? Even the name sounds dangerous,” Lydia said dramatically. “What if Jack spreads your legs and eat you alive. It’s been a long time since you got a proper...”

Some stories started with hate. This one ended with everything.