Sticky Notes Horror Story Novels & Stories

Her body tensed up the moment she felt someone behind her. Her heart started pounding again, but she refused to be scared. She turned around in a defensive stance, then gasped when she saw a zombie doll standing there, staring at her. It was holding a lit torch, the flickering light casting eerie shadows across its creepy face. After a few seconds, Valeria noticed a folded note sticking out of the doll’s chest pocket. She quickly pulled it out, took the torch from its hand, and moved to a brighter part of the room to read it.

A young couple were packed in a remote spot when the music on the radio was interrupted by a news bulletin. A madman had escaped from the nearby asylum. He could be identified by the hook he had in place of his right hand. The girl wanted to be taken home immediately... When they arrived at her house, the boy went over to open the car door for her...and hanging from the handle was a BLOODY HOOK! 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.

There was a wallet, a set of keys, some tissues, and a small, unlabeled vial of clear liquid tucked into the side pocket. My stomach turned to ice. It wasn't the liquid—it was the note tucked beneath it. My mother’s handwriting, neat and slanted: “Tonight. Before he sleeps. Don't hesitate. It’s for the best.” I froze. The humming in the kitchen stopped. “Honey?” Her voice was sweet, terrifyingly sweet. “Are you alright out there? Dinner is almost ready.”

Since she wanted to try something, she toom it as a chance. Could it be possible for grim reapers to knock? She did heard that her kind can touch something when the clock strikes at three in the morning because that is where they get their bodies... or soul, be active. A small smile crept on her lips for the first time after two decades. To her surprise, Shane opened the door. "I see, it's you," She said. "Your time is up, Shane Hoseinzade. You lived wonderfully," She slashed her scythe on his neck but to her surprise, the scythe went through Shane and wasn't able to harm him.

The last thing Callum saw in his consciousness was an angry Stephen leaping on him, he wrapped him inside his arms and his canines punctured the pulsating vein in his neck. And everything black out. *********** Tabby

After I was done peeling the apple, I munched on it and began chatting with her, seemingly nonchalantly, like I was just talking about the weather, while telling her everything that had happened in my past life. Lacey's eyes were first filled with terror, then confusion, then shock. When I was done with my story, Lacey said with much difficulty, "Impossible… You couldn't have had a past life… That's all bullshit! "I'd never have killed you… I'd never… You shouldn't believe it… You're making a stupid mistake!" I threw the apple core into the trash can and wiped my hands clean. "Don't be stupid. Why would I ever kill you? Your boyfriend will do the job instead.

My ears rang as a sharp pain suddenly lanced through my skull, my eyes watering. Then came the flashbacks. Shattered glass. Screams. The metallic scent of blood. My mother's perfume that smelled strongly of jasmine. And then the terrifying sounds of gunshots. I blinked rapidly, the flashbacks fading. I closed my eyes and let out a shaky breath. I needed to make sure no one noticed that something was up with me. Especially not Roman. I folded the note with shaky hands and tucked it into my bra as if it was some kind of cursed relic. Which, frankly, it might've been.

And then… Green eyes. I shoot up to a sitting position and the room tilts to the left. “Oh god,” I whisper, clutching my temples. On the nightstand sits a tall glass of water and two white tablets. Tucked underneath is a neon yellow sticky note with neat handwriting. ‘Drink me. There’s hangover soup in the kitchen if I haven’t burned the building down yet. Aspirin is for the hammer in your head. Take it and don’t die on me. N.’

But the Blood Moon blood in me kept me calm like a deadly tsunami in face of a life threatening situation, and I decided to stay calm and get more info first. Then, panic later. So I swallowed to muster a casual tone. “As in a ghost sighting?” My best friend nodded, grimacing at the sorry piece of filet dangling from her fork. “Some grad stud heard strange noises. But he swore he was alone because there were no lab sessions that time.” I was breathing again, smiling and shaking my head as though it was some silly story, until Eva leaned in and lowered her voice to add secretly. “But I think he wasn’t alone.”

Stella–POV I tossed and turned; sleep eluded me. Frustrated, I sat up and made my way to retrieve the diary, hoping to find a way to unlock its secrets. I carefully pulled out the journal and, once again, attempted to open it using a hammer on the small lock. To my dismay, it remained stubbornly shut. Exhausted and defeated, I sank back, only to feel a hot trickle of blood from my nose— a telltale sign of stress. Scrambling to find a tissue box, I heard an unexpected click, and to my surprise, the lock popped open, triggered by a drop of blood.