Nighthorror Stories

Closed. Rules are in the first chapter!

One scary night, two couples were roaming in a garden when they saw a witch sitting on a banyan tree.

(I got inspiration from a reddit story I found on Tiktok, by Fire_is_beauty, redditor, not TikTok) This takes place in a realm of magic, where most mortals attempt to learn spells through books. To help enhance their powers, most mages use the power and connections to their familiars. Common familiars include animals and insects alike, where as sprites and fairies are rarer. The most elusive of them all are daemons, finicky and difficult to summon, let alone bind to. Only once in history has there ever been a god to ever grace the earth, once years and years ago. We follow the story of Night, a small-time apprentice mage who doesn't know the meaning of 'on time'

Jessika ha paura di tutto ciò sostenetela per aiutarla

Part 1: The Light at 2:17 Everyone in Kalyanpur knew Room 17 was cursed. It lay at the far end of the Blue Orchid Lodge, its door untouched, its key hanging behind the reception desk like a warning. No one had stayed there for twenty years. Still, every night at exactly 2:17 a.m., the light inside the room turned on. Rohan Malik noticed it on his first night. He was a journalist, chasing forgotten stories, and the lodge felt like one of them. From his balcony, he saw a thin yellow glow slip out from beneath Room 17's door. The next morning, he asked the receptionist. "No one goes in there," she said quietly. "Since the fire." "What fire?" Rohan asked. "A guest died," she replied. "Locked from the inside. Burned completely. No explanation." That night, sleep refused to come. At 2:16 a.m., Rohan stood in the hallway, camera ready. The lodge was silent. Then-click. The light appeared. He walked closer. The door wasn't locked. Rohan pushed it open and stepped inside. The room was clean. No ashes. No damage. Just an old cracked mirror and a dusty desk. On the desk lay a guest register, open to a single page. A name was written there. ROHAN MALIK - ROOM 17 His breath caught. The door slowly creaked shut behind him...

This is just what it seems like, a bunch of idea's I randomly come up with (and most likely wont make books), that you can adopt. To adopt a idea just message me saying what idea you want and wait for a response.

this is my second book yay...... This is Blueberry's story. All he hopes for is someone to hear his story and share it with the world before he leaves. There will be 18+ but HOPEFULLY not as much as I will put in the other stories. (Update: CHECK OUT THE REMAKE PLZ!)

In a village where the river remembers names and the soil listens, silence is never empty. Noziphozamandla (Gift of Power) returns home carrying a grief she does not yet understand-unaware that death has already crossed her path, that her bloodline hums with secrets older than language. At night, the drum begins to speak. Soft at first. Patient. Calling not to her ears, but to her spirit. Children chant where no children should be. Shadows move without bodies. And something small watches from the dark, waiting to be acknowledged. Rooted in South African ancestral lore and whispered truths of witchcraft, When the Drum Speaks is a slow-burning, unsettling journey into the unseen, where amadlozi (ancestors) walk beside the living, gifts are inherited in silence, and ignorance is the most dangerous curse of all. Some stories are read. Others are answered.