The Nun Book Horror Novels & Stories

Claude found a few books on witchcraft that she had never seen before, and Nuella showed her a few books on magic that she had acquired over the years. As they were about to leave the room, Claude noticed a small book sitting on a shelf all by itself. It was old and worn, with a black cover that had been embossed with a strange symbol. "What's this?" Claude asked, picking up the book. Nuella's eyes widened as she saw the symbol. "That's the Necronomicon," she said, her voice low. "You shouldn't touch that." Claude looked at the book and felt a shiver run down her spine. She had heard of the Necronomicon before, and she knew that it was said to contain dark and dangerous magic.

“Once. And for all.” (Witch’s POV – Lena) The camp had gone quiet. Only the distant crunch of patrol boots over gravel broke the stillness. In my tent, the air was thick with sage smoke, curling in silver threads toward the low lantern glow. My sisters sat across from me, their faces pale in the flickering light. Nora spread a worn leather-bound book on the table between us, its spine cracked, pages edged with soot from gods-knew-how-many other battles. “This thing isn’t just feeding,” she whispered. “It’s tethered. Something or someone is anchoring it here.”

Then he noticed a little study table beside the shelf; a lamp and a book sat on top. The book on the table had been opened to its centre. And the way the chairs around the table had been set up gave Kevin a hunch that a group was here recently, reading. He glanced through the pages of the book on top and found the picture of a tortured girl. Her eyes were sworn open to keep them from closing—so that she could watch as her body was disembowelled. There was a text written just below it—it was a Latin translation. Another book on the shelf caught his eyes; its cover had the image of a man screaming while he watched his innards being pulled out through his stomach. Kevin threw his face away in d

I muttered as I ran toward my chambers, driven by a strange pull, a gut feeling that something was there waiting for me. In my room, I scanned my surroundings, something drawing me to a concealed compartment behind my bookshelf. I opened it, finding a small, worn book—a diary. My heart sank as I opened it, the words inside telling a dark, familiar story. This wasn’t just any diary; this was Luna Nora’s collection of secrets, a meticulous record of every vile act, every betrayal. The curses, the deaths, the machinations that had torn my family apart—it was all here.

Shaking her head, she said, "But aren't you only like that because you idiotically accepted an accursed book from a nobody? You said, you don't even believe in ghosts before you got that." He sighed and took out the book which always appeared inside his pocket for several months now. The book was giving off a mysterious vibe due to its black worn-out cover featuring a faceless monster. He got it from a fake friend who had styled himself as a book collector. Nathan was a horror writer so he accepted the creepy book. His initial objective was only to look for more ideas and inspiration. Who would have thought the horror writer who never believed in ghost would suddenly start seeing creepy ghos

Jonathan woke me up before Nuna could tell me something. I guess I was hoping that I would atleast get an idea of what she was trying to tell me in her house. I went into the room I was in earlier when I went to see. Everything was pretty much the same as I had left it. On the table there was a book, it was open. I went to the book and I realised that it was a Grimoire. It was old. It had spells in it. I would know because it looks like the one my mother has .

They were monsters, created to plant nightmares in people's heads and this sight would cause Maddox again one or two sleepless nights, because before someone had put a bullet in this Iuba, he had ripped the blond woman's throat out . Maddox gritted his teeth and jumped over them outside into the garden and into a bloody hell. There were screams, wails, and sounds of pain. The Iubas growl and bite filled the air. There were so many that at first glance he couldn't see them all, but what he saw were the two little, red-haired girls on the hedge in front of the fence. And also the big Iuba, who jumped straight at her.

Written by Evelyn Mba ©®©® @Paranormal @Romance UNFOLD TRUTH The girl walked over to the other shelf, searching for another book to read. I need a horror book, Mister. Sylvia said to the Library attendant. About what? The man asked. Wolves and Witches. Roxanne said from the other side. Shut up, Witch. Sylvia snapped and turned to the attendant. I'll prefer TRUTH OR DARE. Sylvia said and the attendant shrugged.

The Rennar symbol. She snatched the key. The metal was cold. Without a backward glance, she fled. The Rennar library was a tomb of forgotten truths. She went straight to a section blocked by a frayed red rope. The Forbidden Collection. She found it: Instinct and Transformation: Observations on the Lycanthrope. She carried the heavy tome to a table, her heart pounding a frantic rhythm against her ribs. The pages crackled with age. She skimmed past charts of moon cycles and dietary notes until her eyes found a heading that stopped her breath.

Not just words spilling out this time. Scenes. Creatures. Hazards. One thick volume labeled CASTLE HAZARDS struck a stone, flipped open, and vomited a swarm of translucent, wailing shapes—castle ghosts, their eyes hollow, fingers like icicles. They shrieked and arrowed toward us in a ragged storm. Another book, NEON DRONE PATTERNS, burst against a fallen shelf. Drones extruded from the pages like wasps from a nest, metal bodies shining, eyes already lighting up with target locks.