Romans & histoires Text Horror Stories

she calls out, a smirk playing at her lips. She just had to end with another jab about the formal. Right when Axel was here. God, I’ll kill this girl someday. Axel, however, doesn’t seem to pick up on Corey’s final remark. His eyes are fixed on the book in front of me. “What are you reading?” “It’s… nothing. Just a story.” But almost as if he can sense my bluff, he flips the front page with ease, revealing the title sprawled in bold letters: LYCANTHROPY: HISTORY, MYTHS & OLD FOLKLORE.

My stomach turned with revulsion that never quite faded. "Speaking of interesting stories," Thelma said, her words slurring more noticeably now as she drained another glass. "Has anyone told the old tales yet? The really old ones, from before the manor was even built?" "Old tales?" Madison perked up immediately, leaning forward with interest. "What kind of old tales?" "The dark ones," Thelma said with relish, clearly enjoying having a fresh audience. "The bloody ones. The ones that actually happened, not fairy stories."

the Architect said, smiling cruelly, “I’m not the only one hunting you. The Board kept a hundred books on their computer. Scary stories, war stories, stories of monsters that eat stars. Now, the walls between the books are gone.” As he spoke, the alley began mixing with other worlds. Off in the distance, Maya saw a metal dragon from a space story flying above a candy forest. Ghosts from an ancient horror tale wandered through a futuristic city of glass. Everything was colliding. The long path had turned into a nightmare. “We need to go,” Julian said, grabbing Maya’s hand. “The Ghostwriter said the secret is in the title of Chapter 100. We have to reach the end before this world becomes a sto

For this reason, I decided to move all then into strange short stories, that is already a storybook of different themes. The w******l policy does not allow me to remove or delete those books, so they will remain there but as a "paused" book. You can find only the introduction of those books on w******l and no else more. But there you can find some covers I made for those stories and that I can not upload here. The stories of a single chapter will continue to be published, of course. Each volume of Strange short stories will have 3 medium-sized stories and about 10 short stories.

I don't even have his number! "Hello? Who's there?" I whispered. It was like a horror movie. The girl in the forest screaming and running for her dear life. Maybe it is Jordan. He is a douchebag but can he pull such a stunt just to scare me? One thing I learned from the horror movies I watch is never to scream and run so I backed away and tried to be in the shade because the moon was up and bright. I don't want to be spotted or watched by who may or may not be my predator.

"Be careful what you wish for, sweetheart." "I didn't stutter now, did I?" I said, my anxiety suddenly disappearing as a smirk splayed on my bold red lips. "Hm." Damon said, looking at his brothers before looking back at me. "Wait, hold on, Shirley." He held up his hands. "Are you trying to say you don't mind if Draven fucked you? 'Cause that's what we're hearing." And that was when the insane thought popped into my head. "Well…" I stepped closer, my voice now softer than before. "If the Ryder triplets want to fuck me, who am I to say no?"

And it’s already had a taste . Tales from The Lake Vol.1 anthology—Remember those dark and scary nights spent telling ghost stories and other campfire stories? With the Tales from The Lake horror anthologies, you can relive some of those memories by reading the best Dark Fiction stories around. Includes Dark Fiction stories and poems by horror greats such as Graham Masterton, Bev Vincent, Tim Curran, Tim Waggoner, Elizabeth Massie, and many more. Be sure to check out our website for future Tales from The Lake volumes.

by the time the sun shimmers at the horizon behind me and the crescent moon dips below the horizon before me, I have thought of every word I know of to describe really, really, really boring walking. There is absolutely nothing here. I think of the stories we told each other when we were pups. About wraiths that lived beneath the sand of the Barren that would pull you down into their nests. They would paralyze you and then their grubs would feed off you, slowly eating you alive. That was a favorite. There are the roaming packs of wilder-scorpions, creatures that are half beast, half scorpion. Where the beast's tail should be is a scorpion's sting that will cause your skin to turn black and t

And I didn’t expect her to fucking torture me with that image. I want to lose myself in her right now, but I also want to see that gleam in her eye when she learns something new. I take a deep breath. I promised myself a real shot with her, so ghost stories it is. But damn, it’s gonna be one hell of a long night. “Can you die from blue balls?” Hendrix mocks. “Ready to explore the supernatural tales of Waterloo?” She asks, biting her lip, her voice filled with excitement. “I’ve grown up around these legends, remember?” I say, still trying to pull myself together.

I glanced down and the breath in my lungs died–the ground below me was filled with more demons and blood-curling screams as fire spewed from the hell. My perspective swirled. My breathing was gruff, unlike mine. The world around me flickered like I was in a VR game. A demon raced toward me and I lifted my hands to defend myself. That's when I saw them–clawed red hands. Not Thorne’s. Not human. Mine. They tore through the screaming demons, splitting it in half before slashing another across the face. Blood spewed from open guys and bones cracked like plastic everywhere I turned. A loud screech caught my attention and I looked up–one of the man-bats was flying toward me, jaws wide.