Survival Horror Books Novels & Stories

Rows of towering bookshelves stretched into the gloom, filled with books bound in leather that looked suspiciously like skin. "Where do we start?" I whispered, overwhelmed. "Section X," Killian said, walking straight to the back. " The Anomalies." We spent hours pulling books. The Red Moon of 1402. The Feral Plague. The Betrayal of the South. Dust coated my fingers. My back ached. But I kept reading. "Here," Killian said suddenly. His voice was tight. I rushed over to the table where he was standing. He had a massive, crumbling book open.

The sight, the smell of copper and something else, something foul, hit me like a physical blow. A violent, involuntary shudder wracked my frame. My stomach lurched, and I had to lock my knees to keep from stumbling. I’d killed zombies. I’d driven my knife into rotting skulls, I’d felt the sickening crunch of bone giving way, I’d been spattered with their black, foul-smelling ichor. I had done what was necessary to survive, to protect my own. But this… this was different. This was human blood, so much of it, shed in a frenzy of violence that spoke not of mindless hunger, but of something far more terrifying. The blood of the Infected was a part of the horror, an expected part of the grotesque

Instead, he leaned back against a mahogany shelf, his casual sweater bunching at his shoulders. He looked at the stack of books on my desk, his eyes lingering on a tattered spine I had tucked at the bottom. "Wait, is that THE STAND?" he asked, pointing to the thick paperback. I looked down, my eyes landing on the book he was referring to. It was a survival horror story. Something about an alien invasion and humans getting wiped out one by one. "Oh. Yes. I’ve read it three times, but I find comfort in the end of the world sometimes. It makes my own feel... manageable."

Jessica's voice went dead serious. "This manor has thirty floors. The monsters on the lower floors? They're simple. Predictable. They work on pure instinct. Learn their patterns, and you can survive. Treat them like traps. But the higher you go... the ones at the top are a different breed entirely. They won't just kill you. They'll shatter your sanity in seconds. They'll show you what true terror really is." "She's right," Brad chimed in, his smile turning predatory.

The chef had sacrificed nothing, which was why he could afford to be generous with someone else’s supplies. But the moment my question touched his own interests, he was forced to think about whether my refusal actually made sense. Cruel as it was, that was simply how survival worked in the apocalypse. While we were talking, the girl’s screams were abruptly swallowed by the zombie horde surging toward her. The monitor turned into a blur of red. All of us sat there silently, watching her body get dragged apart and devoured piece by piece. We knew we should look away. But none of us could.

But it turned out, I had still underestimated just how much the author favored him. The dagger was knocked from my hand and clattered to the floor. Winson’s eyes were filled with amusement, like a cat toying with a mouse as he watched me struggle, the heavy scent of alcohol washing over me. His hands roamed over me. Realizing how bad the situation was, I shouted. "I’m pregnant. You can’t touch me." The contact on my body slowly disappeared. I knew he had stopped. Relief barely settled before a cold scoff sounded above me.

“The Elders have been keeping things from us for too long. They can never be trusted anymore. I decided to act on my own and with Kyle, I was able to get the witch to speak yesterday. There is a sacred book written by the Fathers of the early church after the time of the witch trials. It talks about a prophecy that will bring an end to our immortality.” Gasps filled the air and murmurs soon arose in the room. It was obvious that none of them can accept it. “But the good news is,” Aamon brought back their attention, “our immortality will never be taken from us. The Blackburn whom we just discovered to be alive are now all dead for good because it was written that one of them would be the end

she wondered. As she sat there, Shielding her eyes, she listened, bracing herself for any noise, for any movement. She remembered how rough her graveyard awakening had been in Italy, and this time, she didn’t want to leave anything to chance. She was prepared for anything, ready to defend herself against whatever villagers, or vampires—or whatever else—might be nearby.

Everything now seemed a trap, a sinister game orchestrated by unseen hands. With every heartbeat, she thought she heard ghostly footsteps approaching her walls. She clutched the blanket to her chest like a child clutching a comforting toy, but the terror was greater than any blanket, thicker than any wall. Her eyes leaped to the table, where the book still lay. Its dark cover glinted faintly under a sliver of moonlight, as if it were watching her, as if its earlier fall had been a message, not an accident.

Please feel free to check out my other books below. Other works: • The Pleasure Directive • Encore with the Devil • Bloodscript: Survival Game of the Reborn • Rejected Omega Princess: Meet My Overprotective Brothers • Killed and Reborn: My Alpha’s Obsession • His Luna Returns, So I Left with His Baby > Please add this book to your library and leave a review if you’re enjoying it 💖