Scary Story Writing Examples Novels & Stories

Scarlett cried, before sniffing her nose. "How scary is it?". Amelia asked because she was tired of playing games with Scarlett. "It's very scary Mama!". Scarlett said in between tears. Amelia nods her head so that Scarlett can continue her statement. "Inside the school premises….. I do see monsters walking with their head on the floor, while their leg is in the air……. I do see some monsters changing into beasts, and they always come after me, while using a knife". The young Scarlett declared.

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.

BEFORE I KNEW IT, I FINISHED WRITING In total darkness. Back then, the night was silent and, of course, scary. Normally, I don't really mind writing on a dark night or finding myself in the middle of a dark place yet as if I was watching the ending scene of a horror movie, all my senses turned on and scared the hell out of me, especially when my story ended in such a morbid conclusion. You know that feeling when you suddenly thought of something scary while you were pissing in the bathroom with no accompanying light around you. Yeah, that shuddering feeling that goes along with the pleasure of releasing some juice, I felt that.

“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.

Epilogue: Now that I have written several of these stories, I find that my old ghosts have started to haunt my dreams yet again. It is amazing that once things are written down, they begin to take on a life of their own. Just remember, if you don’t want things to go bump in the night, don’t tell anyone else about them.

Ten-year-old Bree chimed as Emma looked over her shoulder worriedly. “That’s nice, sweetie. Why don’t you tell me about that mermaid story again?” “I hate that story. Can I tell the one about the wolf?” Bran chimed in. “Wolf?” Patrick asked as Brinna looked out the window and saw another animal running alongside their vehicle. “Yeah, the one that eats the girl in the red hood.” “Mommy, I don’t like that story. It is scary.” Bree snuck at the rolling landscape and saw the scary animal with sharp teeth sneering at her, so she pretended to look forward and saw her parents exchange a look.

I stood there, frozen, unable to move, unable to look away. The bushes rustled again, and I saw it—a big, shadowy figure, its eyes gleaming in the dark. It was unlike anything I had ever seen, its form vague and indistinct, but its presence unmistakable. I screamed, my voice high and piercing, my body finally responding to the terror that had seized me. I turned and ran, my mind filled with images of the monster, its growl echoing in my ears. Fiona’s house was my only sanctuary, and I sprinted towards it, not daring to look back. I reached the door, fumbling with the keys before bursting inside, my breath ragged and tears streaming down my face.

Looked like Loren had gotten carried away, Ria thought. "You know, of all the ghosts, the most dangerous are the ones that carry grudges and regrets…" Loren rambled on again. Ria started to think that Loren liked horror topics like this. "What do you mean?" Ria responded while reading through some of the articles she found earlier. “I have a story that my mother firsthand experienced. She once rented an old house that was haunted by a spirit full of regret and anger that almost brought her to an terrible accident…” Loren had already started preparing her story when Ria noticed that the clock already indicated that their next class was about to start.

The ones meant to scare kids into staying inside after dark. But they were just stories. Right? Except A story wasn’t supposed to be running after me. A story wasn’t supposed to have claws. And yet, here I was. Running for my life. "Oh, dear Moon Goddess, help me! I don’t want to die! I don’t want to die!" I screamed inside my head as I ran for my life. My legs burned, my lungs ached, but I didn’t stop, not when the thing behind me was getting closer.

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.