Romans & histoires Text Horror Stories

"And you have pissed me off." He believes me. Suddenly he believes every horror story he has been told since he was a little boy. That they were all true: the dead things hungering for the warm living flesh; the bony hand coming out of the closet in the black of night; the monsters from another page of reality, the unturned page--who could look so human, so cute. He reaches for his gun. Too slowly, much too.

My heart is furiously beating as I type the word nonhuman. Many articles pop up so I just click on the first one. There are so many definitions. Sirens,witches, vampires , demons and yes, Angels are there too. Apparently the term is used to describe people who are not exactly humans, people with unusual gifts or powers. The following article says nonhumans are just a myth and that no such thing exists. One says they were real during the eighteenth century but we're destroyed and are now extinct. I keep on reading and even click on the images. The images are a bit scary and definitely not human. The thought that I could be one of those things is more than scary.

I apologize that this book is really short with less than 30k words in all. I plan to edit it at some point and make it better. I figured that a really long Horror book might be less interesting and would just seem drawn out. I've not read a lot of them but I watch horror movies so I wrote this like I would picture an Horror movie. I appreciate all those who stuck with me and read Reincarnation regardless. Thank you all. After saying this, I would love and appreciate your feedbacks and things to watch out for when I do edit the book. It would be really helpful and appreciated.

“What else have you heard?” Too much. Too much poison dressed up as bedtime stories. Garrett Monroe—my father, the only family I had left—used to slur those horror tales into my ears whenever he was drunk. Stories about sharp-toothed beasts who dragged children from their beds and devoured them whole. Creatures who wore human skin by day but hunted by moonlight. At the time, I thought he was warning me. Trying to protect me in his own twisted, broken way. But now? Now I don’t know.

Some stories started with hate. This one ended with everything.

Not the terrifying intensity underneath every joke that made my chest tighten whenever he got too quiet. But acknowledging it would mean acknowledging myself too. And I wasn't ready for that. So instead, I grabbed another tray of drinks and pretended my life wasn't slowly turning into a terrible decision wrapped in tension and stolen midnight fucks with a much younger man. "Lilith." I froze slightly. Oh fuck.

Mason's insidious actions had awakened a primal terror, plunging the realm into darkness. The stories surrounding these deaths painted a macabre picture of savagery. It seemed as though the victims had met their demise at the hands of a beast, their necks brutally ravaged, as if drained of every drop of blood. The grotesque nature of the killings left witnesses traumatized, their minds struggling to comprehend the horror that unfolded before their eyes. The realm had become a haunted place, plagued by the specter of death at every turn.

I asked her curiously as I sat comfortably on her couch and the three of them sat on the big one adjacent to mine. "Well, I believe that there's nothing to be scared of. The ghosts, vampires, witches, and werewolves are just in the books. Right? Fiction. Not real." My oblivious girlfriend explained, and that made the three of us, supermarket beings, look at each other. If you just knew, Pryce. None of us here is purely human. "Uh, yeah, yeah. They're just in the books. Horror books. They are a product of one's creative minds… and to scare people." Sander agreed with her best friend. Now, I really don't know how we will tell Pryce about the whole truth.

And the silence hurts worse than anything. End of story 3