Skinwalker Scary Stories Novels & Stories

The thing wearing the uniform shifted again, a ripple running beneath its skin that didn’t belong. “Not entirely,” Arthur added, his voice tightening. “It's what they call a skinwalker. Bad news.” “What the hell is a skinwalker?” “It means you don’t want to find out.” “I’m not running away and leaving you here alone.” The creature moved again, lunging with a speed that forced the decision out of me before I could think it through. Energy flared through me, sharp and immediate, driving outward as I struck him, the force catching him clean and throwing him back into the patrol car hard enough to dent the metal.

Skinwalkers were creatures straight out of my mother’s bedtime stories—monsters capable of stealing and mimicking the physical form of anyone they came in contact with. She had always spoken of them as frightening little stories meant to keep me from wandering into the woods alone. As far as I knew, they were nothing more than myths. “I did not realize you believed in myths,” I joked, taking a quick sip from my glass of milk. My lighthearted laugh died in my throat as every single person at the table turned to stare at me with an unreadable expression. “What?” I asked, the glass hovering near my lips. “Who told you skinwalkers were myths, Miss Lorraine?” Jules asked softly. “My mother...” My

How could he expect her to? Being left to her own devices, Luella watched as she warmed herself by the fire. She was bone tired and would have loved to just lay down on one of the vacant bed rolls she spotted. They were situated close enough for the flames to warm the occupants, but far enough away that the heat and smoke weren’t detrimental to their lungs. She scowled when she spotted the skinner in canine guise sleeping opposite her. Skinners weren’t well thought of in the magical realm. Even their cousins, the hum-wolf, frowned upon them. It was obvious the woman was a witch of significant status and the man had an energy around him that spoke of dimensional travel. They made an unusual p

. Like👍 before reading please. . 💔Hidden Scars💔 (Pain within😭) . . ✏Written By: _____Authoress Kamara✍_____ . . 😍Episode 23😍 . . 🌹Natasha🌹 "I should stop? Nat, when will you stop being so afraid of him? I know what he's doing to you but why won't you talk". He yells at me. "That asshole of a stepbrother is just using your fear against you by doing those horrible things".

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.

she says,” Is what I thought you were, what he had made. I look at the cover, in black, stamped ink the word Skinwalker, sits front and center. “Skinwalkers are myths, legends,” I say fingering the leather. “They are, but as much as what you are.” I give Althea a puzzling look, urging her to explain. “Skinwalkers are ancient shifters, rare, made by the coupling of ancient magic and a god who can transform. The books tell us that a Skinwalker is only born once every thousand years. Even then it is rare for one to be conceived.”

Almost stumbling from the cliff, I closed my eyes as I saw a stone falling, making me look at the skinwalker in front of me with shock. "Well, this is good. You know I was really missing this fear in your eyes. Don't you know that we dark people, skinwalkers, and demons feed on the fear of people around us? Do you know how hurt I felt when I didn't see that fear in your eyes," She said as she gripped my chin, and I looked down as she floated in the air. It was obvious if one of us was to fall into that lava, it would be only me.

Were you ever told those stories? You know the ones that were meant to scare you at night when you were kids? To make or prevent you from doing something? I bet one of the stories you were told the most was of Skinwalkers that would kidnap and kill those of you that would do bad things. I was told the exact same stories about Weretigers, Werebears, Werewolves, etc. I of course never really believed it until the day my family was killed. I of course didn't see them as bad; I saw them as my rescuers from my family. Because sometimes family will hurt you more than the people in the stories you are told. My family never found out I betrayed them, until the day they died. Since 100 years ago, I'v

Skulls—both human and werewolf—were on long sticks, their empty eyes looking into the distance. I felt heavy inside as I looked at the eerie scene. The skulls moved a little in the breeze, and each one seemed to have its own story of suffering. The human heads looked like they were in pain, while the werewolf skulls had something strange about them, with bits of fur making them scarier. The wind made the bones scrape against the wood with a creepy sound. The smell of death and rot filled the air, making me feel scared and sick. It was clear—Swiftclaw ruled by making people scared, and this scary scene was meant to show how strong he was.

I was shaking with fear before I remembered my mother’s words about a proper trigger, and this might just be it. "Werewolves are strong, and they own the whole Serene land; no one can bring me down," I said, standing to my feet and trying so hard to conceal my fear. But the next thing I saw almost brought me back down to the ground. A swarm of skarvs was approaching me. Mum had always told us that skarvs were twisted creatures, accompanied by fierce, heavy winds. They were the scariest things that existed in the forest, but I would have been able to fight them if only I had my wolf. The wind that accompanied the skarvs had separated me from Mum and Elara; now they couldn't hear me or come to