Ya Horror Quotes
The mirror's light sparks in the eyes, And horrified, my lids drawn tight, I step back to that realm of nightWhere not a single exit lies...(Untitled: "I pass away this life of mine...")
His desire for this to be a joke was quickly replaced by a desire for whiskey.
Max?' he asked.'Yeah?''...What are you doing?''Shooting people.
Odessa sighed. 'When I said you were one of the smartest people in the company, I was referring solely to your technical abilities. Now get to work.
But the things in the batteries couldn't be spiders. It just wasn't possible. There had to be another explanation. But of what kind?
Simon shook his head. 'I don't want to be a hero. I'd rather abandon the technology altogether, sit on a hill and speak to my neighbours by smoke-signal.
...a fissure appeared. Splinters of plastic broke away around it, and the fissure widened, radiating further fractures.When the first leg broke out, Simon tried to shriek.
Who gave you a gun?''The army.''Why?''That's what the army does, Simon.
All she could see was her demise and it called out a tempting ruse, offering a suffering less potent than what sickened the living.
The military operation swiftly became one of disaster management and damage control, search and rescue.
He realised he was in a chair. The world was white and blurry in half his vision, and it took him a few moments to realise a sheet of paper was stuck to his face.
Sometimes you can lock the doors and close the blinds, but the monsters are still there inside your house, sleeping and breathing and just waiting to wake up and terrorize you all over again.
She leaned forward and whispered sensuously in his ear, 'I am Lilith and you are mine now - forever.
We may think of ourselves as static anti-heroes, but in reality we're dynamic protagonists just waiting for our courage to kick in.
Harley's eyes widened in horror, and a low moan of fear escaped his mouth. The back alley was filled with a vision from Hell.
The blessings of the devil is the beginning of dread.
She wasn’t religious. She didn’t believe in heaven or hell, only in ghosts, Ouija boards, tables which rapped and little inept voices speaking plaintively of flowers
Where do bad folks go when they die? No heaven awaits them, say to it goodbye
Bruises and dried blood covered her face, giving the illusion of chicken pox.
Yeah, there has to be a few screws loose when a girl asks you to drop everything to spend a three-day weekend on very short notice, and you say okey dokey without a care in the world.
Just one pit stop, Rae. One pit stop that won't even take an hour. Then it's over. It's finally over.
He'd wanted to mend her just like his mother had mended his favorite teddy bear when his arm had come loose after too much play. He offered her his pudding cup instead.
You tell a soul or even God Hisself what you seen when the rougarou changes, or even that you met one, and a year ain’t passed, you’re liable to change to one yourself.
He believed in his own decency with all his heart. So it was with every true monster, Vic supposed.
Perhaps I should not hope to convey in mere words the unutterable hideousness that can dwell in absolute silence and barren immensity.
Even then I found the word fitting, soothing.Fireflies.Fire flies.Fire, fly.
All of my chupacabra books are like novelizations of movies that haven’t been made yet.
Ebola then turns the insides of its host into jelly: you begin to vomit black junk which is basically your dissolved liver and internal organs.
It had initially been thought that the zombie virus was an offshoot of Ebola. Many zombie-virus symptoms mimicked the terrible, hemorrhagic fever.
I knew the end would come, one day. I knew my life deserved to be over. Yet, even knowing that, I was no less fearful.
When they were silent for a moment the quiet weight of the house pressed down from all around them.
The ghosts that exert the most power in people’s lives-at least, the people I know–tend to be of their own making, and consist of equal parts regret and old fears and just plain missing somebody.
Insanity is the only real escape from the banality of our lives. - Clara Bayliss