Novel & Cerita Written Horror Stories

She simply moved, delicate and distant, as though the world she belonged to was no longer this one. I could not tear my eyes away from the sight. Ashwood had never been ordinary. We had grown up hearing stories whispered around fires—stories about the woods and the things that walk when the moon is hidden. Creatures with eyes that glowed in the dark. Footprints that belonged to nothing human. Voices that called your name from places you could not see. We were told about werewolves, shapeshifters, vampires, and skinwalkers. And every story ended the same way. Those beings were gone. Exiled. Driven away long before we were born. We were warned never to go into the woods alone, never to answer

And it’s already had a taste . Tales from The Lake Vol.1 anthology—Remember those dark and scary nights spent telling ghost stories and other campfire stories? With the Tales from The Lake horror anthologies, you can relive some of those memories by reading the best Dark Fiction stories around. Includes Dark Fiction stories and poems by horror greats such as Graham Masterton, Bev Vincent, Tim Curran, Tim Waggoner, Elizabeth Massie, and many more. Be sure to check out our website for future Tales from The Lake volumes.

Slowly… slowly… Until it stood right above her head. Anusha froze with fear. She turned her head slightly— There was no one in the room. But on the wall… the shadow stood. And then— The shadow’s head moved close to her ear and whispered— “I have come…” Her eyes widened. The next second, the lamp went out. The room plunged into darkness. And someone grabbed her shoulder— Cold… icy… not human at all. Anusha screamed and fainted. When she woke up in the morning, the guest house was normal.

“What are you waiting for? Do you need a bedtime story?” I chew back a smile. Settle against the headrest. “Why? Do you have any?” “Me?” “No— Weres. Us, I guess.” “Sure, but they’re bleak. Humans and Vampyres coming for us if we nip our teachers too hard. The gods of nature toying with their beastly children. Cosmic horror— that kind of shit.” “Wow. Do children like them?” “I didn’t. Had nightmares about them for years.” I nod slowly. “That explains it.”

Which is why I haven’t been using it ever since I started writing 1001 Dark Tales. Yes, I could have written it quicker, but 1001 Dark Tales are dark romance tales. I’m not ashamed of anything I write, but I would rather not act out the scenes with three males who I don’t even know their names or what they look like. I push those thoughts away as I put the quill down and grabbed my other manuscripts, leafing through them. Each of them was only partly done and would benefit from using the quill on them. Before I could pull one out, though, I heard a knock at my door.

Aella's Pov The northern packs, the same place rumored to house beings we've only heard of as tales, wicked beings of the night. “You can't be serious” I muttered, memories of the stories we'd been told about them flashed through my brain. Creatures of the night that could only survive by preying on blood, rumored to be destroyers of every and anything, immortals but could be killed by a wolf's venom. Also a deadly opponent of wolves. This absolutely could not happen.

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.

Dad says quickly as Ken's mouth falls open. Then he shifts his eyes to me, and I see the same fear my dad had when mom got sick in his eyes. "Baby girl, I'm so so sorry. I failed. I took you to the office to expose you to politics, but I exposed you to those supernatural monsters. I'm sorry I called you a liar, honey. It was just the easiest way to relax, Officer Curtis.....What you saw was real. Five supernatural species co-exist on this Earth with us. The most dangerous being vampires and werewolves. The others have never been seen. They keep to themselves or use magic to stay hidden I don't know which. The day I took you to the office, one of the werewolf's leaders was there. He wor

It was late autumn when they arrived — the trees skeletal, the air thick with a kind of oppressive stillness that seemed to hum beneath the surface of the world. Emily Carter, a graduate student in folklore and urban legends, had heard the whispers about WildWood all her life. She had grown up just a few towns over and had spent years gathering the old stories: tales of the “vanishing patients,” the “howling trees,” and the “night doctors” said to stalk the forest paths. Determined to separate fact from myth, Emily organized an expedition for her thesis, enlisting a few brave companions:

Story Note: “Room for One More” is a standalone short from my erotic collectiona mix of intense, sensual, and sometimes forbidden stories that explore the raw edges of desire. Each story introduces new characters, new fantasies, and unapologetically explicit encounters. This particular tale features a taboo dynamic between step-siblings, told with heat, dominance, and no holding back. Reader discretion is advised. *************************************************