The Most Disturbing Books Ever Written Novels & Stories

When I was done, I headed for my office, shutting the door behind me. Walking to my desk, my hands shook as I pulled the bottom drawer open. In it, several worn paperbacks of my secret stash were laid out. With titles like- CLAIMED BY THE PACK, BRED BY THE BEAST AND TAKEN WITHOUT MERCY. I grabbed Taken Without Mercy, the cover showcasing a naked curvy woman with a fucked out pussy, big tits and two guys by her side with huge mighty cocks. I slid onto my chair, the urge to resist failing me. It's being months and I told myself I'd stop, but the ache in me needed to be satisfied.

Damn, Freckles. The first book I pulled out was called “Images You Should Not Masturbate To”. I snorted, flipping through a couple of pages and shaking my head. That sarcastic streak of hers ran deep. I grabbed another, the title catching my eye: “How to Traumatize Your Children: 7 Proven Methods to Help You Screw Up Your Kids Deliberately and with Skill.” I let out a short laugh, one that came from somewhere I’d almost forgotten existed. Then there were the others—Fancy Coffins to Make Yourself, Do-It-Yourself Coffins for Pets and People, and, for good measure, How to Raise Your IQ by Eating Gifted Children. I shook my head, glancing back at her still sleeping form.

“Has he been studying all these books?” I looked at the desk. One book was lying open on his desk. The page it was turned to had a drawing of a person who looked like they were screaming. I continued staring at the opened page. The title at the top of the page said "Vampire Possession and Mind Control." I looked away from the book for a moment, My blood went cold. Had Noah known this might happen? Had he been preparing for it? I tried to look into the book one more time but

Already much more soothing than sad songs and the sound of explosions. Tall shelves lined the walls, crammed with books. Of course this man had a library that looked like it belonged in an interior magazine spread. A low chandelier hung in the middle of the room above a long solid wood table, a few chairs, one couch in the corner with a folded throw. I walked along the first shelf, letting my fingertips brush the spines. Gold lettering, embossed titles, lettering already faded. The first row was full of classics. Dostoyevsky, Tolstoy, Dumas. Of course Zane owned a collection of depressed men who liked to write about sin and consequences. Fitting.

I would love to make myself a pair of working boots out of you and stepp in cow and horse shit with them as often as possible. He was the devil himself, going way out to increase fear, and his torture where worse and worse the angrier he got. However, I refused to be afraid. Along with his words was his hot, heavy stank breathing. They brought a picture of a devil from those cult books I’ve had to study in the past. Yes, this was evil incarnate in front of me.

I giggled. "I think I'll read it too then." "You should. What's the next book?" "ENTER THE DRAGON by CLIVE CUSSLER." All the books were marked with a white X by the side so they were easier to find and place side by side. "Finally. YOU SHOULD HAVE KNOWN by JEAN HAFF KORELITZ." "That one's deep." All the books had one thing in common: they all had sprinkles and bits of thrillers in them.

I stopped at the library door and smiled to myself. ‘Books are better than people. Books don’t hate on you for something you didn’t do.’ I pushed the door open and breathed in the wonderful smell of books. ‘Paradise.’ I strolled to the shelves and scanned through the books, reading their names off their spines. ‘It seems Dante wasn’t joking when he said half of his library was filled horrors.’ A book caught my eye, and I pulled it from the others. “Bone and Souls by B. Brian.” I read the name aloud and skimmed through the description behind it. “This seems interesting.”

Turning the music off, I grab the lavender and put it in a tiny glass vase, and set it in the center of the long ebony black dining table. Walking out of the conjoined dining room and kitchen I grab my book, my water bottle, and a blanket. I set the water and blanket by the back door that leads to the porch, and the beach a little off, and head back to the kitchen with my book. Of human bondage, by W. Somerset Maugham. The book itself isn't bad, but from my point of view, it's terribly bland. I like more poetic works. But also a hint of darkness. The best example is the poem, In the Desert, by Stephen Crane, from his book The Black Riders and Other Lines. It has a sense of dystopia that I ca

She raised her hand and with her index finger she brushed the books, reading their titles. There were some that said "satanic pacts" others like "the call of the devil" "the forest and its hidden side" "small town legends" "werewolves and the full moon" and the last one said "Wisconsin Cases". Camila took out that last one, the book was big, it had a red cover with the image of the town itself. But that image was in black and white, as if it was taken years ago.

Humans had banned books from their own schools for lesser reasons. I got up from the desk and poured myself another drink, making my way over to the tall mantle above the fireplace, gazing into the glowing embers of the dying fire and lost in my questions. Had it been too far to ban Nyllan’s first book? The one that bore the seedling? That first research had marked the start of Nyllan’s career and his potential as an herbalist. Was that too extreme? The contents of his second book were controversial, breaching ethics on many fronts. The contents of his last book–the true fourth volume–were never circulated, but immediately condemned. And since the reality of a third volume was never confirme