Slasher Books Novels & Stories

Elias pulled his hand away fast, leaving me aching and empty. I yanked my sweater down and pressed my back harder against the shelf, trying to steady my breathing. My heart hammered like it wanted out of my chest. “Stay right there, Lila,” he whispered. His voice was low, tense. I heard him move carefully through the dark, footsteps quiet on the tile. Another crash echoed from somewhere deeper in the stacks. Like something knocking over a small pile of books. I held my breath. Elias stopped moving.

"Ahhh!" Then the shot rang out. The proles winced, half turned away from me to growl at something. I didn't even think about what I was doing. Suddenly the serrated knife was in my hand and I just rammed it in the side right into his heart. He yelped, jumped away from me, ripping the knife out of his own body, but the serrated blade did not voluntarily give up the tissue. The proles practically tore their own hearts out, stumbled another half meter and then collapsed bleeding. The eyes in which the aggressive madness of these creatures lived, fixed on me, he breathed out his last breath. There were two holes in his body. A small bullet hole in the flank and a large, deadly one in the heart.

She opened the door slowly and I was thankful that her sister’s blood didn’t drip all the way to the front door. As she came in, she had absolutely no idea of what had taken place, or that I was still inside. This whole time, I was hiding behind the door and she was focusing her attention on the washing basket and her phone. With all the little bit of strength I had, I put her down with the back of the gun right at the back of her head. She fell on her face, with her back towards me and she was motionless. I quickly locked the door and dragged her unconscious body to the bathroom. She wasn’t bleeding or anything like that, it was much easier because her body couldn’t leave a trail of blood a

I muttered, but it came out warmer than I meant. By nightfall, the city had sunk back into its real skin—neon bruises, the stench of wet trash, the throb of a thousand heartbeats. I fed the safe way: bagged units lifted from a distracted hospital guard. Blood that tasted like regret and rubber tubing. It kept the hunger dulled, but never satisfied.Sometimes I’d walk past bars where laughter rolled out like heat. Men and women leaned over tables, their throats bared in trust, their pulses glowing beneath thin skin. Hunger hit sharp on nights like that. Travis would whisper, “Old you would’ve drained them all,” and I’d hate him for being right.The notebook weighed heavier each day. I filled it

TASHA He slapped me across the face so hard that my ears rang. "You'll pay for this," he hissed. "I swear to God, I'll kill you for hurting her." I touched my burning cheek, shocked. "Kirk... she's faking-" "Shut up! Guards, seize her!" I'd slapped her because she'd made fun of my miscarriage, but she fell to the ground like I had knocked her unconscious. She screamed and cried and rolled around like she was dying.

"Don’t worry. We have many other bedrooms." "Then-" and once again he cut me off. "Because I don't trust that everyone in this house has fed. I won't risk it..." He said. And with that he turned and left. Leaving me in his room...alone. I had to admit that his room was very simple. The duvets were black and white. The carpet was dark blue and the curtains dark red. He had a large desk in the corner which was stacked with the most unexpected things. Reading books! Actual leisure READING books. They ranged from horror to sci-fi. Most of them were written by a famous hunter author named Vladimir Rodriguez. Those books were mainly the "fiction" ones. They were fiction to humans, but all too real

Finally, she found the one she was looking for. Layla managed to grab the book and add it to her stack in her arms when her eyes caught sight of something. A book stood out among the rest. It was bound with dark brown leather and had brandished designs on the spine. The title read - Malleus Vampiro: A Treatise on Vampires. Placing her other books on the floor, Layla pulled the leather-bound book from its home amongst the others and opened it. As her eyes skimmed the pages, she caught a couple of words; SHADOW STALKERS, BLOODSUCKER, PHANTOMS.

DO CHECK OR ADD OTHER BOOKS OF THE AUTHOR… *REVENGE ON THE MAFIA LORD *JUST ONE MONTH *THE LYCANS SIN YOU CAN ALSO CHECK MY I*******M PAGE, TO SEE THE APPEARANCE OF YOUR FAVORITE CHARACTERS,TO MAKE READING MORE FUN, PLEASE FOLLOW ME ALSO, IT'S A NEW ACCOUNT… I*******M @Vee_wr_ites. XoxoAUTHOR BLU~VEE.

Thane dragged, “you mean everything, right?” I could see his point. Everything here gave me the creeps and made me feel uncomfortable—everything down to the creepy fur rug that covered the floor of this study, or whatever she might have chosen to call this place. “How about these?” Thane asked, drawing my attention to a shelf full of creepy books and tomes. “Not that. Creepy, but not creepy enough,” I said. “I smell blood and death all over them,” he said. “Fun, but not what I’m looking for,” I replied.

Damn it, this wasn't an action movie. I growled at something very rude, fasted my M19 harder, and sprinted down the sidewalk on this side of the street. I never let our prey out of my sight for a moment. It was almost like a slalom. Again and again I had to avoid people and then I almost ran into a shelter. There was room for a handful of people in these small buildings. If you had to get to safety from a prole, you could run in there, seal the room and call the venators from inside via an emergency column.