Terrifying Pictures Novels & Stories

She was about to speak out when he flashed his blood stained fangs to her in an ugly, horror-stricken growl. Zipporah froze. She saw nothing of Adam in those eyes. A quick flash of the pictures she had seen on the internet zapped through her mind. Before she could get rid of the terror in her bones, he returned to his kill. She began to retreat, ready to give up. The best she could do was stay out of his way but slowly her skin began to prickle. The chill she felt had nothing to do with the rain.

My fingers hesitated on the edge before tearing it open. Photos split out. Dozens. I sifted through them with slow hands. Pictures of enormous creatures, some sleek, some hulking. Fangs exposed. Eyes glowing. Some red. Some gold. All vicious appearing looking dogs. My breath caught in my throat. Confused. I looked up at him, voice barely a whisper. “What is this, Jim? Dogs?” I asked, lifting a picture and turning it sideways with a raised brow towards Jim. He stepped forward, his tone changing. Soft. Dark.

I took one turn and then another, but the staircase was nowhere to be found. Panic began to creep into my chest as the paintings stared down at me from the walls, grotesque and violent. Warriors with spears plunging into their chests, heads of serpents mounted as trophies, and snarling animals frozen mid-kill. Their glassy eyes gleamed in the dim light, scaring the hell out of me.

Immediately, I felt my stomach churn over with gruesome horror at the content of these despicable images. They were different photos of mangled bodies in awful positions. Both men and women—with their limbs tied, covered in blood, and life drained from their eyes. My bottom lip trembled as the bile rose in the back of my throat. All the air became caught in my lungs. My knees wanted to buckle out from under me. “W-What the hell are these?” I hissed. I clamped my hand over my mouth, fearing that I was going to vomit right then and there. A creeping chill raced down my spine.

Seeing herself in the large frame in front of her made her shiver and have a strange feeling. On closer inspection, it wasn't a magnified image but a painting of her, every line of this large canvas so vivid and terrifyingly detailed. The highlight in this room is that big picture, but the rest of the walls, are filled with pictures of her in different sizes. The eerie feeling in the room left her unsure of how to react, and Gemma approached curiously and looked up at the big picture.

Michael's POV Natty has been sick for the past few days.I tried asking her to go see the doctor but she refused,she throws up every time and hert is always high. I am fucking scared. And also she has been craving for alot of crazy and weird things,the surprising thing is she never liked any of them. Today I decided to bring the doctor home,she said she hates going to hospitals so I had no choice. We were sitting on the couch ,her legs on my laps eating Pizza, which has become her favourite, Did I say she eats alot now, there's never any leftover.

I placed my hand slowly over my mouth at the sight of the ladies. "Oh my!" I whispered, my hand on my forehead now. "Oh my God!'" Voice was above a whisper. I shifted my gaze a bit, and it landed unintentionally at the pictures of my death parents' on the wall, and some artistic pictures, down to the leather couch that beautified the living room. My hand fell on my waist as I turned again to face the four ladies standing side by side one another who kept on smiling.

I can send you the images but warning, viewers' discretion advised, you could be traumatized' I took a deep breath and shut my eyes for a moment before sending 'Send them' What else was worse than an eleven-year-old walking into the kitchen to find the body of her father in a pool of blood? I've been traumatized enough in this life. I'll face my problems head-on. Almost immediately a couple of blurry pictures started appearing on the chat and they became completely visible after automatically downloading. The sight was indeed disgusting. Scattered bodies of naked headless men and each was carrying individual head in his hands with a cross sign on the head. Seeing blood triggered my PTSD for

Dylan curses after starting into the pictures. And this triggers me to take hold of the pictures. I raise them but make sure they're a foot away from my face before I look at them one by one. The afflicted wolf is a middle-aged man with a shock of brown beards. There's this look on his face that gives out how he derives a great deal of pleasure in killing and eating humans. I swallow hard when I see mutilated body parts and blood everywhere. Even though the pictures are black and white, they're terrible to look at.

It was bright and blue, just like the old texts said it would be. "We would've assumed it was a trick by witches," another council member continued, his voice grim. "But our people have been dying." I slid my finger across the screen to the next photo. It was a corpse of a man, his skin covered in pulsing black veins, his eyes wide open in terror. The slideshow didn't stop. More and more disturbing images followed. Videos of children slumped over at their school desks. Adults collapsing at their workplaces. It was a never-ending parade of doom.