Scary Authors Share the Most Terrifying Stories They've Ever Experienced
Andrew Michael Hurley
The Summer People from a master of suspense
I discovered this tale long ago and it has stayed with me ever since. The named seasonal visitors are the Allisons from New York, who rent an identical remote lakeside house annually. This time, rather than heading back to the city, they decide to extend their holiday a few more weeks – an action that appears to unsettle each resident in the adjacent village. All pass on an identical cryptic advice that nobody has ever stayed in the area after the holiday. Even so, they are resolved to remain, and that is the moment events begin to get increasingly weird. The person who delivers fuel won’t sell to them. Nobody will deliver supplies to their home, and when the family endeavor to travel to the community, their vehicle refuses to operate. A storm gathers, the energy within the device die, and as darkness falls, “the elderly couple clung to each other in their summer cottage and expected”. What are this couple waiting for? What do the townspeople be aware of? Every time I revisit the writer’s unnerving and inspiring narrative, I’m reminded that the best horror originates in the unspoken.
An Acclaimed Writer
An Eerie Story from Robert Aickman
In this brief tale a pair travel to a common seaside town where bells ring continuously, an incessant ringing that is bothersome and puzzling. The first extremely terrifying episode happens at night, as they opt to walk around and they fail to see the sea. Sand is present, there is the odor of rotting fish and brine, waves crash, but the ocean is a ghost, or a different entity and more dreadful. It’s just deeply malevolent and each occasion I go to a beach in the evening I recall this tale that destroyed the beach in the evening in my view – favorably.
The recent spouses – the wife is youthful, the husband is older – return to the hotel and learn the cause of the ringing, through an extended episode of claustrophobia, gruesome festivities and mortality and youth meets grim ballet chaos. It is a disturbing reflection on desire and deterioration, two bodies maturing in tandem as a couple, the bond and brutality and tenderness within wedlock.
Not only the most frightening, but likely one of the best brief tales out there, and an individual preference. I read it en español, in the debut release of this author’s works to be released locally a decade ago.
Catriona Ward
Zombie by an esteemed writer
I delved into this narrative beside the swimming area in France recently. Even with the bright weather I experienced a chill within me. Additionally, I sensed the electricity of fascination. I was writing a new project, and I encountered a block. I was uncertain if there was any good way to write various frightening aspects the narrative involves. Going through this book, I saw that there was a way.
First printed in the nineties, the novel is a grim journey into the thoughts of a murderer, Quentin P, modeled after a notorious figure, the criminal who slaughtered and cut apart multiple victims in a city during a specific period. Notoriously, this person was consumed with creating a compliant victim who would never leave him and carried out several macabre trials to accomplish it.
The actions the book depicts are terrible, but just as scary is its own mental realism. The character’s dreadful, broken reality is simply narrated with concise language, identities hidden. The audience is sunk deep stuck in his mind, compelled to see ideas and deeds that appal. The foreignness of his psyche resembles a tangible impact – or being stranded on a barren alien world. Starting this book feels different from reading and more like a physical journey. You are swallowed whole.
An Accomplished Author
A Haunting Novel by Helen Oyeyemi
In my early years, I sleepwalked and subsequently commenced suffering from bad dreams. On one occasion, the terror featured a nightmare in which I was confined in a box and, upon awakening, I discovered that I had ripped a piece from the window, seeking to leave. That home was decaying; when storms came the entranceway became inundated, insect eggs dropped from above on to my parents’ bed, and once a large rat climbed the drapes in my sister’s room.
Once a companion presented me with the story, I had moved out at my family home, but the story of the house perched on the cliffs appeared known in my view, homesick at that time. This is a story about a haunted loud, sentimental building and a girl who eats limestone from the cliffs. I cherished the book immensely and returned frequently to its pages, consistently uncovering {something