Writing Horror Stories Novels & Stories

She ogled at me angrily as tears threatened to dropped down her soft cheek. "Lov–" She hanged up her hand towards me and rushed back to her room. ~~~~ How are you viewing "nightmares" How is this going to end? 😶😶😶😶 ©Lharry's pen

Her granny called her almost everyday just to know what she saw the previous night and Juana would tell her everything. Sometimes, Juana didn't see anything at all, sometimes she saw good things, but most times, she had nightmares. When her granny called to ask about her dream the night after she saw something about avocados, Juana refused to tell her about it because it involved someone dying. The person was dying. Not dead. She didn't want to imagine any of her parents or even her granny dying, when she tried to, the imagination hurt her so much she got bad headaches. Juana felt like telling someone about it, talking to someone about her whole life, but she wanted a neutral person because

After two days of high temperatures and intense boredom, he remembered the three books. Sam pulled out the one with the Mummy on the cover, because it looked the most innocuous. It was entitled the Ninth Pan Book of Horror Stories. He wasn’t the least bit prepared for what he found inside. The first three stories involved emasculation, murder and burning at the stake. In his fevered state Sam felt he was not only watching the characters’ suffering, he was experiencing it along with them. He flung the book at the wall and then hid it again, wishing he could burn it like Jinnot, the young girl in the third story who was burned alive.

Before there were doors between worlds, there were stories. They whispered from hearth to hearth and ship to ship— of wolves that ran like midnight wind, of foxes with nine tails and nine more tricks beyond that, of fae who looked like carved moonlight and smiled like knives. Humans loved those stories—as long as they stayed in books and bedtime. The moment a story breathed, the moment a pair of eyes glinted from a tree line or a shadow stepped out of the corner of a room, humans did what humans do best when they’re afraid.

You could say that there are no ghosts in the world, and I could agree with you, but some people said that there are no werewolves in the world and we know for sure that they are, so… never say never. “I hate this place,” Sam said and looked around. “So many stories , horror stories that I get goosebumps just thinkin' about it.” “ I chose this place exactly for that. Because we all hate this place and it is the last place where Manganiello would think that we will come.”

“The World of the Unknown. A book to die for.” My mother used to tell me stories of Vampires, Werewolves, Demons, the Orramoths, and the worst of them all, the Darklings. Most of the creatures she told me they blew out of proportion. She said writers did this to make a dollar or two, and some did it to scare the shit out of their kids and make them listen. My aunt would laugh because she said that I was a different breed than most. The minute I heard about them, I buried my head deeper into books with excitement. Little did she know I also discovered Daddy’s old box in the attic, and ‘The World of the Unknown’ was in it.

And maybe in the end I'll succeed. The ideas have never stopped flowing, and amidst the difficulties, I've gathered them together to tell even more stories. I have a notebook full of ideas, story segments just waiting for the right piece to fit into. I've conceived many new universes. I have a love story planned that I hope will make your heart skip a beat, between two young people wounded by the world. A horror story that I hope will take your breath away, with its demons. A fantasy that I hope will transport you to a world of mysterious creatures and strange rites.

The moon hung low in the sky, casting an eerie glow over the deserted streets. Helena crouched in the shadows, the thick most of the night helping to conceal her, heart pounding with adrenaline as she scanned the area for any sign of movement. The air was thick with the scent of fear and the coppery tang of blood. She knew she was getting closer to her target, a rogue vampire who had been terrorizing the town for weeks.

“Oh God!” Out of everything that I’d learned after turning into a vampire, the stories of the Elders and their Death Squad had scared me the most. Because anyone who came in contact with the Death Squad didn’t live to tell the tale, there weren’t many knows facts but from what I’d heard from the whispers, they were the ghosts in the shadows, the boogeyman of the vampire race and anyone who came into contact with them died a painful death.

Death awaits you, your darkest pleasures hitchhiked on the highway. On a rainy night at the police station between highways, reservations, between the mountains, following a highway, amidst the crimes of the dawn, among the nights of stars, among the crimes, the policemen death asked for a ride; Being that it's a collection of vampire/werewolf stories, investigation. Several horror tales, among several characters that pass through the city of Lovecraft County. So, follow the supernatural world, between changes, attacks of beasts and supernatural worlds, lives of terror and nightmares.