Supernatural stories include themes such as vampires, werewolves, witches, myths, paranormal activity and ghosts.
Spine-tingling, chilling tales can revolve entirely around mythical characters or depict non-human creatures interacting with mortals in everyday life.
Chapter One Valerian wakes to a shrill sound going off by his bed. The bed sheets are tangled and constricted around him, one of the reasons he stopped sleeping in a coffin. He's a very restless sleeper. When he was younger and a coffin was not option...
Listening In The Rain I'm a good listener; always have been. Especially here inside the cemetery—just sitting in my truck, listening to the rain, hearing it tell the story, and waiting for Holly. We don’t have nice winter weather around here, just cold an...
I am slumped in a chair, staring at my newest painting. For over twenty-four hours I have been awake, painting in a near-trance for more than half that time. The painting portrays a scene not far from my studio, a shallow bay on Lake Madeline. A woman eme...
“God-damn-it!” Mike barked as he pumped his car brakes and spanked the horn with his palm. The cause of his consternation --a speeding black sedan that cut him off on the highway-- was already long gone. “Stupid son of a…” “Mike,” Cynthia sighed aloud, in...
**** **** Reader discretion strongly advised.The stor...
A year went by, the seasons marching on in their uncompromising way. Imogen had relinquished the house utterly to her niece. It held nothing of the old life except memories grown too painful. Olivia worked hard to build a new life out of it, but progress,...
At the crossroads two women stood, silhouetted against the lavender and cream of the day's end. The moon lurked somewhere deep in the veils of black branches. Down the hill, Reverend Milton was putting a heavy chain and padlock on the churchyard gate, the...
The ringing of the telephone dragged Olivia from the borderlands of sleep and she answered with a growled "Who is it?" A crackling pause, then: "Libby, is that you?" The voice on the other end of the line was faint, obscured, familiar from a lifetime ago....
I'll never forgive you! Olivia woke with a start, alone in the ruined living room. Still no Imogen. Perhaps the loss of Eli had been the push she needed to move on to a happier place, though that thought rang hollow. More likely she'd retreated somewhere...
When Eli arrived, moonrise was still far enough away that Olivia barely felt any hint of the oncoming change. Verity had curled up with her book again, Imogen with a magazine (the pages being easier for her to handle) and Olivia sat down with one of her n...
The next month, just as Olivia was on her way to catch the train to Peter's Cross, Grace came running up behind her. "Long time no see," said Grace, her bright smile as false as the red of her lipstick. She made an exaggerated point of noticing Olivia's o...
Olivia ran down the stairs. Her vague suspicions had coalesced, the message from her dreams loud and clear. With a quick glance to check that nobody was about, she pulled herself into human form and grabbed her coat. Draping it across her shoulders, the b...
The turning of the moon marked time. Olivia didn't return to Peter's Cross until the autumn, and even then she did so reluctantly, skirting around the graveyard so she could walk up to the vicarage by road, considering it well worth the extra shoe leather...
Lost in miserable contemplation, Olivia had no concept of how far the journey took her. High hedges and the grasping bare branches of trees lined the lanes, all alike. Once in a while, signs of habitation loomed and passed, clustered cottages or solitary...
Putting on her coat, feeling for the reassurance of the small slip of paper in her pocket, Olivia walked out into the early twilight and down to the phone box. She could only pray that Grace might still be with her friends, and she breathed a sigh of reli...
