Writing A Scary Story Novels & Stories

Jones stared at Claire as she whispered, “What happened next?” Suddenly, she was a little girl again. He used to tell her scary stories about werewolves, vampires, fae, and warlocks. May hated it, but he couldn’t say no when his little niece looked up at him with big eyes and asked so politely for a story. He would always stopped at the climax, sighed dramatically, and say that it’s too scary. She would grab his hand and say she wasn’t scared, that she would be brave. She would ask, so excited, “What happened next?”

Rose felt her entire body go stiff and her blood freeze in her veins, her entire face turned white and she had to hold the nearest chair to stop herself from falling as her entire body trembled “What happened?, looks like you’re seeing a ghost!Am I that scary?,” He looked amused “Well, you didn’t seem to think like this that night when you were clamouring and forcing yourself all over me,” The man smiled cunningly as he took slow deliberate steps towards her that looked threatening and scary

Suddenly, I lost strength in my leg and fell to the ground with a thud. He burned Sasha alive without any hesitation. I closed my eyes and a wave of nausea engulfed me. I feel my blood turn to ice. Fear holds me tight. The Devil's attention then focused on me. His icy eyes looked at me. My heart rate involuntarily accelerates as he makes his way towards me. I'm frozen in fear. I don't know what to do. I can't move. I can't breathe. I can only watch as death comes near me.

It was cold midnight, the trees and land were covered with snow. The sound of the breeze seems so terrifying and the twigs of dry trees hit with the window like a witch. It creates a more scary sound. There was a silence around which create a frightful environment. A dim light was coming from a 24 storey building window. A girl of age 18 was drowned in her books, making notes under her study table lamp. She feels tired and closed her books while stretching her arms and check the time on her wristwatch. She immediately summed up all her notes and books at the side of her desk when a loud splash on her room window scared her. She opens the window to check but couldn't find anything except the

Reece whispers in my ear which makes me bounce in fear next to him. "Don't do that…" I snap at him. "Do what?" He asks innocently. "Scare me while I'm watching a horror movie.." I say to him. "Ssshhhh" Lexi, Tony and Aaron hiss at us in unison urging us to shut up. *********************************** It's 11:30pm now, almost midnight and I'm beyond nervous. Anytime now, it's going to happen. I'm going to get my wolf. I'm going to hear a voice in my head.

my whole body was vibrating like i was air itself. Scared i shouted "WHAT'S HAPPENING TO ME?"... Authors Note: hi guys.so to be frank this is my first time writing.please i want to find out.how is the story going so far.are there some things you think i should work on.if you do,you can drop your veiw at otuekongbassey9@g***l.com .Thanks

Telling him the exact old told tale. “Don’t you remember those happy voices in your mind as you sleep? Or maybe the screams you hear of terror in a nightmare. What is a nightmare? Isn’t a nightmare a small prison you’re trapped in, with no hopes of waking? Why? Because you never know you’re asleep. You forget everything, your name, your life, and who you are. The only thing to accompany you are the monsters that laugh in your mind, that taunt you, knowing everything. Your life, your happiness, everything that had been stolen away. But the scariest part of the nightmare won’t be the monsters. They aren’t scary themselves. The most fearful thing of all is that they are yours. That you can hear

came out and appears in front of her. "Arra...come to me. I've been waiting on you for so long," said the scary man with a deep voice. "Go away! Please, go away! Daddy! Help me!" she screamed so loud. Hoping that someone can hear her voice. Her body was shaking in fear as she silently chanting a prayer. A minute had passed and she didn't hear the voice again. She wants to open her eyes to check if the scary man was still there but she couldn't do it. Afraid that once she opens her eyes she will only discover that the man was still there and still staring at her with a creepy look.

BEFORE I KNEW IT, I FINISHED WRITING In total darkness. Back then, the night was silent and, of course, scary. Normally, I don't really mind writing on a dark night or finding myself in the middle of a dark place yet as if I was watching the ending scene of a horror movie, all my senses turned on and scared the hell out of me, especially when my story ended in such a morbid conclusion. You know that feeling when you suddenly thought of something scary while you were pissing in the bathroom with no accompanying light around you. Yeah, that shuddering feeling that goes along with the pleasure of releasing some juice, I felt that.

PATHETIC DRAMATIC melted and re‑formed. SCARED CREATIVE “I made horror because I was scared,” I said. “Not because I was weak. I wrote bad things happening because bad things *were* happening, and it was the only way I could stand to look at them without going numb.” Memory flickered behind my eyes unbidden: me at thirteen, hunched over a spiral notebook while my parents argued in the next room. Me at sixteen, typing frantically after my sister had rolled her eyes at something that had gutted me. I'm hiding in horror books because at least *there is fear that had shape and rules and endings.