Spooky Stories Books Novels & Stories

Seeing the stack of books piled up high on top of the table I knew I had found the right table. “Alec, I think we should go look in the kitchen. No one is back here.” Savenia said. “That my dear is where you are drastically wrong.” Once we reached the back table I watched as Savenia looked at several of the titles of the books piled on top. “History of the Werewolves. Psychology of the Paranormal. Ancient Greek Mythology. Witches and their Divine Power. Fae and the Woodland Creatures. The History of Dracula and the Vampire Methodology. Werebears and Shifters of all Kinds. Whoaaa. Those are some serious titles. I wonder who checked all these books, then lifted them here.” Savenia said.

She said moving to the other side of the library. I came across different books about werewolves, witches, Lycans, vampires and even hybrids and many more I had no idea existed like the fairies and fox shapeshifters. Although I wanted to read them all now I knew it wasn't possible so I picked out a book that was titled ‘THE FEUD BETWEEN TWO WORLDS’ this was written in big bold engraved like the font on the hard black cover then there was another title underneath ‘THE WOLVES AND THE VAMPIRES’

she said softly. I felt a warmth spread through my chest as I sat down on the vacant chairs in the library. I knew that even though the books I had been searching for were gone, there were still so many stories waiting to be told. I looked down at the book on the table, feeling a sense of connection to it, it seemed mysterious and unknown. I felt a shiver run down my spine as I ran my fingers over the embossed title: Nightstalkers; Hunting the Creatures of the Night.

"You're in luck. We have a section dedicated to folklore, myths, and legends. Follow me." She led them to a corner of the library, where bookshelves were adorned with titles that piqued their interest. Tiffany and Hailey eagerly began scanning the shelves, pulling out books and flipping through their pages in search of answers. Hours passed as they delved into the stories and accounts of supernatural beings, searching for any hints or connections to their own experiences. They came across tales of witches, vampires, and shape-shifters, but nothing that seemed directly related to their own situation. Just as their enthusiasm began to wane, Hailey stumbled upon an old leather-bound book tucked

"Most people don't." "Oh, she definitely did." "Why?" "Because she'd light candles everywhere and tell me it was an adventure." She laughed quietly at the memory. "We'd make hot chocolate." "We'd tell stories until the electricity came back." Lucien listened without interrupting. "What kind of stories?" "Bookshop ghosts." He blinked. "Ghosts?" "The friendly kind." She grinned. "They supposedly rearranged books during the night because they got bored." "And you believed that?" "I was seven." "...Fair enough."

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.

“Books don’t talk back. They don’t expect small talk. I like the order. And the stories. What about you? History major with a focus on obscure trade? That’s not common.” I shrugged even though he couldn’t see it. “I like knowing how people lived before everything got loud. Plus, it’s an excuse to hide in here. Away from parties and drama.” “Smart girl,” he murmured. The way he said it made my stomach flip. Time passed. Maybe twenty minutes. We talked about everything and nothing. My terrible roommate. His awful coffee from the faculty lounge. How the basement always felt colder than the rest of the building. Our voices got softer, more comfortable. The dark made it easier somehow. Like we we

After two days of high temperatures and intense boredom, he remembered the three books. Sam pulled out the one with the Mummy on the cover, because it looked the most innocuous. It was entitled the Ninth Pan Book of Horror Stories. He wasn’t the least bit prepared for what he found inside. The first three stories involved emasculation, murder and burning at the stake. In his fevered state Sam felt he was not only watching the characters’ suffering, he was experiencing it along with them. He flung the book at the wall and then hid it again, wishing he could burn it like Jinnot, the young girl in the third story who was burned alive.

I would recognize what these were even in my sleep. Whips. Cuffs. Blindfolds. Gags. Collars. Leashes. Dildos. Sex toys. Nipple clamps. Vibrators. Candles sat on a table nearby and my eyes widened in sheer shock as realization dawned on me. Davin was into fucking BDSM. I expected a lot of things to be in this study, maybe even guns and explosives. But hell no, not a red room. Not a room full of my biggest desires. As a masochist, it was hard to find anyone who could ever match my freak. But this? Goodness, this was heaven here on earth. I grabbed the end of one rope and tied it around my wrists, binding them together, and I let out a soft moan.

he asked, his voice quieter this time, as if afraid to disturb the peace of the shop. I glanced at him, “I love them,” I said, running my fingers along the spines of the books. “They’re like an escape—a way to step into another world, even if it’s just for a little while.” He nodded, his gaze lingering on me for a moment too long. “I get that,” he said, his voice barely audible. I stopped in front of a section labeled Legends and Lore. The titles immediately caught my eye: The Myths of Moonsdale, The Wolves of the Moonlight, The Moon’s Chosen.