Scary Thriller Books Novels & Stories

It feels like something under my chest are about to explode. The surroundings are so blurry and the next thing I knew is my back hit something before darkness subside my consciousness. ### Amira's POV I excitedly scan my newly bought book from the bookstore lately. It's all about paranormal stories. It was so thick as it consists of different paranormal stories. Since I get so tired of reading cliche romance stories, I have tried out reading horror again since I'm fond of it as well. As soon as I opened the first page, it excites me after reading first sentence.

In 1983 a Mrs Carson of New York was laid out in our coffin, presumed dead of hear disease. As mourners watched, she suddenly sat up, alive as you or I. Unfortunately her daughter dropped dead of fright on the spot. I don't own any of this stories. I found them in some creepy books. I'm thinking of writing my own scary stories, but not anytime soon. You can send me your short stories for a feature if you feel like it. Thanks for reading. Enjoy!I don't own any of this stories. I found them in some creepy books. I'm thinking of writing my own scary stories, but not anytime soon.

I said, feigning innocence. I glanced around after speaking. It was true. There wasn't a single living person in sight, but ghosts were everywhere. "This place is cursed!" Charlotte snapped. "I can't even stop. The moment I even think about it, it feels like needles are piercing my hands." Even as she spoke, her hands kept moving. Fear flickered across her face at the scene before her. The terror in her eyes was truly a rare sight to behold. "Is this your doing? Did you come up with all these tricks to scare me? You just want revenge for all the times I picked on you at school, don't you?"

“Were these any help, detective?” “I’m afraid not,” I said, defeated. I was in a bit of a daze after staring at projected newsprint on the dim screen. I leaned on the desk and looked around the building absentmindedly until my eyes finally settled on a small sign hanging on a table covered with a neat stack of books. “Warning: The Library is Not Responsible for Nightmares!” I read out loud, walking over to look at the books. Well-worn volumes with pink skulls grinning back at me from stickers on their spines. Dracula. Frankenstein. The Invisible Man.

The title sent shivers through me: 'Dark Powers, Secrets of the Werewolves'. I opened the book, and a strange glow emanated from the pages. I felt a sudden jolt, like a surge of electricity had passed through me. The room began to spin, and I fell to the ground, the book slipping from my grasp. As I struggled to get up, I heard the old woman's voice, urgent and worried. 'Ryker! Ryker, what's wrong?' She rushed into the room, her eyes scanning me frantically. Then her gaze fell upon the book, and her expression changed to one of alarm. 'Oh, no. You shouldn't have touched that.'

But soon, she would understand the consequences of being miserly. One day, while Greta was mocking me as usual, Hilda gleefully watched on. She walked into the living room with a glass of water to keep her throat hydrated. However, her movements were cautious, and she shuffled around nervously. As she was about to sit down, I suddenly shouted, "Ah!" Startled, she plopped down onto the chair, and there was a loud popping sound. Hilda let out an ear-piercing scream. Trembling, she glanced downward and saw that her pants were completely soaked. Her eyes rolled back into her head, and she fainted on the spot.

Observing it he quirked a questioning brow at the title. Murderous case files, a thriller mystery book he had read years ago. Mainly consisting of gore and graphic details of killing he had dropped it, never even getting past the first chapter. If he recalled the very first sentence described a horrific scene of a man who had cut his wife's throat. Many would have stopped reading at the very first scene yet for some reason this woman was so intrigued with the book that she had nearly forgotten she was conversing with me. How interesting. The more I learn about her the more she seems to shock me.

I had no time to waste, and that ocean of books was demanding my undivided attention. So, as a last resort, I checked the files for classification of books and eventually found the section regarding interracial mating. The topic of the two bloodlines was eye-opening for me, my heart flipped several times reading the details of the bonds. I was so lost in gathering those facts that time flew by, and I couldn’t notice the sun was setting in the East when Nova started howling painfully. “We’re going to lose something very important, Helena. I’m scared!” Her pure fear enveloped my body. I considered this reaction natural, as the chapter I was reading was terrifying. However, soon my stomach knot

I froze. ​Below me, the world was breaking. ​From my height, the library didn't look like a sanctuary anymore. It looked like a crime scene. ​ Two men were tossing books my books off the shelves. Leather covers hit the floor with heavy, sickening thuds. They weren't looking for me; they were looking for whatever secrets Xavier had buried behind the mahogany. ​The man with the scarred face—the one from the screen—was pacing. His boots clicked on the marble, a slow, predatory rhythm.

He commanded. The creaking against the wall grew stronger, at the same time it felt as if the veins across the book was glowing, pulsing and alive. The sound grew increasingly louder, it was coming from behind the shelf. Then everything suddenly went eerily quiet. My pulse slowed, my hand still wrapped around khyrix's who possessed the terrifying calm of someone who knew they were the apex predator. Crack. I hadn't registered the sound yet before the books on the shelf came tumbling down in a horrifying mess.