Scary Story For Adults Novels & Stories

“But your reaction yesterday?” “I was shocked, Richard. Not scared.” He blinked at me, like my joke had slid into something serious. “You’d settle for a vampire?” he repeated, half amused and half… wary. “I said I can settle,” I shot back. “Not that I plan to.” “You were shocked, not scared.” He sighed, running a hand over his face. “This is the first time I’m getting a reaction like this. They’re usually scared of me.” I stepped closer and held his cheek. “I’m not. And if you think you’re the only freak in this relationship, think again.”

“Holy shit, you actually believe that folklore crap? Missing people? Probably just idiots who got lost or ran off with their side pieces.” Julie reached back and squeezed my knee, her touch lingering. “Relax, Doris. We’re four strong, healthy young adults. Nothing’s going to happen. We’ll look out for each other. Besides…” She leaned closer, breath warm against my ear. “It’s more exciting this way, don’t you think? A little danger makes everything hotter.” Tyler smirked, his hand resting casually on my thigh now. “Yeah. Live a little, book girl. Or are you scared a big bad monster is going to come eat you?”

“It fell apart after two days.” He held up his hands in defense. “Hey, I was ten! That was my first construction project.” “And your last,” I teased. We both laughed until the girl sitting across from us gave us a curious smile. I felt heat rush to my cheeks, though I wasn’t sure why. We’d always laughed like that. It wasn’t new. And yet, it felt different here, like our bubble was more obvious to everyone else. That night, we gathered around a massive bonfire. The flames danced into the sky, throwing sparks and shadows across everyone’s faces. Counselors told ghost stories with dramatic voices, making the younger kids squeal and cling to each other.

Jennifer: Shrug emoji. I decided to take a different tack. This time, rather than pick safe, general stories, I chose a bunch of different categories and sent my favorites from each. One was romantic, about a couple falling in love. The next was about a wife who sleeps with another man. Another had a husband bringing in his best friend for a threesome. I chose one that had some bondage (not my thing, but I picked a story that was highly rated). I sent a Lesbian story and a Gay male one (again, I relied on the ratings). I linked a story about watching two people have sex in the woods, and one about a girl riding a sybian for the first time. I skipped two categories: nonconsent and incest. As

"Your pussy will pay for what you did today for a long, long time." A shudder ran down Emma's spine. She should be scared of this guy she stabbed and he was still issuing threats. Who still had the strength to fuck her to orgasm while bleed. But she wasn't afraid. She was excited. She couldn't wait for what Romero would do to her next.

The candlelight flickered across his face — and he began to speak. “This story is about the day I saw a human being die with my own eyes. But it didn’t end there. Because… the very next day, he was sitting in my class again.” The auditorium fell silent. Every gaze was fixed on that man — and inside every heart, something unseen knocked softly… like fear asking to be let in. A faint breeze moved through the auditorium. The candle flames trembled — and every shadow seemed to crawl along the walls like some hidden creature.

His rolled up sleeves reveal the thick veins in his forearms, and the scent of him, that woodsmoke and sharp musk, seems to drift across the rows of desks, clogging my lungs. "Most writers fail because they are afraid to feel," Professor Tyler begins, his eyes snapping back to mine for a split second before moving on. "They describe a scene like a blueprint. But a story is not a blueprint. It is an experience. If you want your reader to bleed, you have to describe the coldness of the blade. If you want them to burn, you have to make them feel the heat of the skin."

Suddenly, something pushed me down on the sofa and as I started to rise, I found myself pushed down again. Flailing about against the pressure holding me in place, I felt a yanking at the bottom of my legs. My shoes were being pulled off and as I tried to bend over to reach them, I was once again thrust against the back of the sofa. My trousers were now being tugged down. Clinging to the top of them was useless, as they were torn from my grasping fingers. Struck by what was happening, it was as if lightening suddenly struck me, at the realization that maybe this house really was haunted. I was suddenly dumb with fear that my dream of wanting to date Brian’s old girlfriend was going to get me

It isn't the same spiral he used to communicate with me in Alaska, but I know a Thatcher spiral when I see one. I sit down on the couch and wait as Thatcher begins to write in his new red book furiously. He must have a lot to say because it is taking him much longer than usual. Finally, after almost three minutes, Thatcher passes me the book, and I immediately read. "Amber, this is very serious. The world is about to get messy and dangerous. A war is about to erupt between Werewolves and Humans. To protect you from what is to come, your father and I have to make some big decisions. Our enemies are multiplying. You need to trust us and back off. We don't have time to entertain you or answer y

“No… that’s not… I’m not—” “Shh.” I reached out and gently brushed a strand of hair from her face. “I remember how wet I got the first time I watched someone fuck. The way his cock looked sliding in and out… the sounds… the way her body shook when she came.” I let my voice drop lower. “You’re thinking about it right now, aren’t you? Professor Harlan’s thick cock stretching me open, pounding deep while I dripped all over his desk.” She swallowed hard, her breathing getting faster, but she didn’t move away.