Scary Story Writer Novels & Stories

“Story!” I couldn’t help but smile. “You want a story?” I asked, stifling a laugh. The children nodded excitedly. “The wolf story!” one of them exclaimed. “We want to hear the wolf story again!” How could I refuse? The ‘wolf story’ in question was one that I had made up yesterday on the spot, a story about a rogue wolf chasing a little girl. It was a scary story that had made the children gasp, their eyes wide with fear, but they seemed to love it.

Besides, being around him gave her so many story ideas and she was itching to get them down. Lisa had never had a muse before; her stories had always come from within her. It was scary to think that the horrors she wrote about had been buried somewhere in her subconscious and she often wondered whether it made her a monster. What kind of sick person did she have to be to think up these things? But over the years she’d come to realize that getting the horrors out of her mind was what kept her sane.

"How can't I know? We published that book. Of course, no one would be more familiar with that than me." It was titled 'Night of Terror' and the book was a compilation of horror stories Lucy's team had painstakingly gathered, edited, and packaged into decent stories. Actually, more than half of the compiled stories came from a single person, a ghostwriter Lucy wished to monopolize, for others to have no more contact with. "Some of the stories in this book have the same writing style and usage of some sets of words. I know for sure that those stories had been penned by the same person. Since you are the chief editor of this publication, can you arrange a meeting with the author?"

“Mr. Owen, I need a story that will refurbish my name. But I can't write anything interesting, and your wife told me that I wrote a useless manuscript again. Why? Isn’t it realistic enough?” This is what I am telling you, my dear Miss Nam. Is this the reason why you're sending me here because you know Miss Yuki will kill me? I hope it's not. Don't use me as bait for her to leave the company. “Miss Yuki…” “Tell me the truth, Mr. Owen… otherwise I’ll gauge your heart as a reference… as proof to the readers that a heart can still beat outside the human body. Right?” I need to answer her. She is really scary. She is literally a psycho. Why do some writers end up like this?

Tonight the words blurred. Was this real, or was my brain fracturing again? The blog readers loved the ambiguity in my stories—the question of whether the horror was supernatural or psychological. Now I was living it. Another ping. I almost didn’t look. But I had to. It wasn’t the blog this time. A new email from an unknown address: shadowwatcher87@protonmail.com. Subject line: “For Stacy’s eyes only.” I opened it with my breath held. *You write so honestly, Stacy. The girl in the stories is you, isn’t she? A scared little bird in a cage she built herself. I’ve been reading since chapter one.

"You mean I'm incapable of living a life? That's it? Something breaks inside of me. "You have no idea what's out there. Damon's guys— He stops me. Yes, the bad guys. The bad guys are always there. Since I was ten years old, you have been using them as a story to keep me scared. "Because it is true!" I yell, louder than I mean to. The counters reverberate with my words. Do you believe that I wanted any of this? Do you think it's fun for me to lock you up and act like it's normal?

Slowly, she stepped back, but the bus just waited, its entrance gaping open like a whale ready to swallow her whole. Willa wasn’t stupid. She knew danger when she saw it. “Hey…” she screamed, but nothing came out. Her voice didn’t go beyond her ears. At only twenty-one, she had become the most sought-after ghostwriter in the country. Platforms like Ellalux, Febnovel, and even the mighty master of webnovels, Koodnovel, had sought her services. Known as the horror-story specialist, she crafted dignified deaths, haunted struggles, and glorified survivals.

Sage groaned. "It's not disgusting." Sophie grumbled back as Greg stood and ran away with three more sour candies in his mouth. Sage regarded her verbosity with a long look, and tempted to wilt beneath the stare, Sophie feinted by chewing the last of her candy. She wouldn’t be the first to be discomforted by a hard gaze from the hot alpha. Eventually she nodded and pushed her lips together. "Fair enough. That goes without saying. Most humans who write sighting stories do so anonymously. But, truthfully, it is not your human spy or your words that I doubted."

1, edited by Joe Mynhardt Fear the Reaper, edited by Joe Mynhardt For the Night is Dark, edited by Ross Warren Short story collections: Dead Reckoning and Other Stories by Dino Parenti Things You Need by Kevin Lucia Frozen Shadows and Other Chilling Stories by Gene O’Neill Varying Distances by Darren Speegle The Ghost Club: Newly Found Tales of Victorian Terror by William Meikle Ugly Little Things: Collected Horrors by Todd Keisling Whispered Echoes by Paul F. Olson

As soon as he saw me getting up, he pressed his teeth to my neck, biting twice. Conrad, of course, saw the mark. His eyes were full of shock, disbelief, and a hint of confusion. It took him a while to find his voice. "Shirley, you... you two..." I adjusted my collar and tilted my head, looking at him. Wasn't it natural for me to be with my fiancé? Conrad suddenly became angry. "You're not even married yet. Don't you have any shame?" "Conrad, I don't agree." I was about to speak when Horace's voice came from inside. "You've already done everything with that secretary of yours."