Horror Fantasy Quotes

“Melody began to mumble incomprehensibly under her breath as she worked frantically on securing her most important papers into bankers boxes.
Her father stomped into her room, eating a banana.
Melody looked up at him with a sweaty and nauseated look on her face. “What are you tramping around so heavily about?” she asked him.
Bernie finished the last of the banana, and then held the peel in his hand as though it were a washcloth he had just found on the floor of a gym locker room.
Melody pointed to her trashcan with her eyes.
“I make an insane amount of noise when I approach you, because you once yelled at me claiming that I was 'sneaking up on you',” Bernie replied, using finger quotes on the last phrase. “That kind of treatment stays with a guy.”
Melody shook her head. Her father knew how much she hated finger quotes. Why he insisted on using them was beyond her. “I was five at the time”, she said.
“Ah,” Bernie said, with a knowing grin on his face. “The angry period.”
― B.M.B. Johnson, Melody Jackson v. the Hound from Hell It happened on Lafayette Street Season One

“What I learned in this tragedy was the eternal lesson of good people going bad.”
― Steven Ramirez, Tell Me When I'm Dead

“You can’t get the blood out.”
― Steven Ramirez, Tell Me When I'm Dead

“Snow came back, but she didn't come back right.”
― Rob E. Boley, That Risen Snow: Snow White & Zombies

“Magic is a naughty beast.”
― Rob E. Boley, That Wicked Apple: Snow White & Even More Zombies

“The wife swiftly gathered her daughter in her arms. She shook off her son, who was still clinging to his sister's leg trying to drink her blood, and made a dash for the door. She was blocked by her husband. He needed his daughter's body if he were to get more blood from his son's. He couldn't let her leave with the source of his gold.”
― Bora Chung, Cursed Bunny

“The child was a boy – beautiful in the face, with a great mop of silky black hair. He was perfectly formed, but there was something attached to his back. Estelle gasped with horror when she discovered the baby had black, leathery wings, like those of a bat, neatly folded on his back.
The Fae did not have wings!
Somewhere she had heard that they used to have – long ago. Maybe her child was a throwback? But what would her father think of a baby with wings? She tried again to call Griff, to tell him his child was born.
There was a terrible sharp pain in her head, then a fierce whisper that seemed to fill her mind. ‘Don't call HIM! I forbid you to call HIM ever!’
The child's eyes had opened.
They were beautiful Faen eyes – an impossible colour of violet-black and much too intelligent for a new-born baby.
Worse than that – they were evil!”
― Bernie Morris, The Fury of the Fae

“For the rest of my life, a different me will pick up this book again and again, read every page and never feel as if I've ever finished it because I myself am never finished”
― Chuck Palahniuk, Burnt Tongues

“Sink white fangs in the throat of Life,
Lap up the red that gushes
In the cold dark gloom of the bare black stones,
In the gorge where the black wind rushes.
Slink where the titan boulders poise
And the chasms grind thereunder,
Over the mountains black and bare
In the teeth of the brooding thunder.
Why should we wish for the fertile fields,
Valley and crystal fountain?
This is our doom--the hunger-trail,
The wolf and the storm-stalked mountain.
Over us stalk the bellowing gods
Where the dusk and the twilight sever;
Under their iron goatish hoofs
They crunch our skulls forever.
Mercy and hope and pity--all,
Bubbles the black crags sunder;
Hunger is all the gods have left
And the death that lurks thereunder.
Glut mad fangs in the blood of Life
To slake the thirst past sating,
Before the blind worms mouth our bones
And the vulture's beak is grating.”
― Robert E. Howard, The Horror Stories of Robert E. Howard

“You're young, unschooled in the ways of love. Love is violence, my darling; it is a thunderstorm that tears apart your world. More often than not, love ends in tragedy, but we go on loving in the hope that this time, it will be different. This time, the beloved will understand us. They will not try to flee from our embrace, or become discontent with us.”
― S.T. Gibson, A Dowry of Blood

“By this unhinged craziness - I sing praises to dead rabbits. Embodied by the craven of sin, their whispers exist in me. No dawn can avert me, just leave me here in this forbidding place. All I want is this noesis to leave me on this crest of soaring Alps. The bliss of this nameless nightmare will make me dwell on its snow-covered form. All I can discern are gateways leading into the deepest frozen infernos. None of them are willing to torment me - as I am already disturbed. Is this the stead where God has died? It seems to be fervently so. No Moon has ascended here - only a pallid eye-like sun was staring down at me. Only this bitter cold shows me a real horror - a dreadful worry that no monster has to reside in it. Vacancy has made the surrounding atmosphere eerily still. All there was, was a weak hum of a chirping bird whistling in the obscurity. Every Tree was massless - nameless - shapeless confined to hostile spaces that grew ahead. This aeonian, a limitless eternity of interminable suffering, has a beckon to endure fourth. Indignant cries erupt from my flaccid throat - sounding for a sob that someone can hear. All there was a deafening hush, with that ominous bird tweeting in the distance; so I believed. Within a moment, a rumbling of a devastating howl was booming and crashing directly in front of me. It was indeed not a wolf, for this was something far more malicious than any canine species. I could not perceive it with my naked eyes, for it was just another aspect of the void that can not be witnessed. Its presence did not want to be detected, it just desired for me to know its existence is here. Inconceivably, I was not able to go face-to-face with this utterly horrific thing that was invisible before me. O’ the great madness and fright was ravaging me, rendering me psychotic and deranged. Discordantly, this nemesis splendor was starting to manifest its fondness for my presence. Barren and bleak when it invoked its cryptic witchcraft, withering away my insecurities to be frightened. The bottomless pit was eager for me to be eternal, wanting to enthrone my image as the coming Lucifer. I was conceived to become the supreme embodiment of blasphemy for the emergence of hell itself. My inner consciousness was being Plunged by the menacing screaming, as my hearing was being bombarded by piercing sounds of a violin shrieking. The God-awful screech of these horribly shrill screams where just the roar of hysterical laughter. Chaos - O’ that glorious disarray - I was condemned to be impelled with an absurd compulsion for madness.”
― D.L. Lewis

“If a tree fell alone in the woods and no one was around to hear it, did it really make a sound?
She was certain, then, that her scream went unheard.”
― Ashton Morgan, De Novo

“Within these pages, secrets whisper and shadows dance. A world both familiar and unsettling awaits, where every turn of the page brings you closer to the heart of the mystery..”
― King Payne, Ancient

“She approached the couple and watched them for a moment. They looked pathetic, writhing down there in the sand and fumbling at each other’s clothes like desperate, love-struck teenagers. They disgusted her.
The male sensed her presence and turned to face her. She immediately noticed the fear behind his stubborn glare and it aroused her. Her scar throbbed and pulsated as she withdrew the knife from the sheaf and dragged it across his throat. As the blade tore through flesh and sinew she once more heard the retort of the rifle, felt her cheekbone shatter. The blood poured from him just as the blood had spurted from the wound in the deer’s throat.”
― Stacey Dighton, The Hawk and the Raven

“The ghosts came to him, one by one, pleading for him to release them from their hellish purgatory. He saw each and every face, felt their terror penetrate his soul, cried tears of sorrow with them, told them that he wished that he could do more, could have done more. The young lovers, their lives taken before they could make any sort of connection, the swim shorts guy who had left behind a loving family, the homeless lady – what had she ever done to anyone to deserve such a horrendous and bloody fate? And they were stuck in this wet and dark place until what? Until Raven could release them? How the hell could he do that? It was as if his hands were bound by some invisible and yet immensely powerful force.”
― Stacey Dighton, The Hawk and the Raven

“Agnus strode into the clearing, a cold glint in her gaze.
“I thought I was done reminding you that this is not your hunting ground, Kriegan. But once again you’ve let your feral stupidity get the better of you and it seems another lesson needs to be taught.” She closed her hand into a fist, which caused the roots to squeeze tighter and the werewolf uttered a painful whine.

Looming over her captive, Agnus continued. “Jo is my guest. She’s not sport or food for your pack of flea-bitten curs. Make the mistake of thinking her as prey again and neither of us will be so merciful next time. Understand?”

The werewolf made a garbled noise and the roots fell away. Bowing like a scolded dog, the werewolf loped back into the forest, a smudge of fur and muscle lost among the foliage.”
― Jamie Ryder, At the Dead of Dusk

“Don’t degrade your souls to the extent of believing in curses,” Samara told them. “Nobody can curse you except your maker, and mine is patiently waiting for our return inside the Gates of Hell.”
― Kaylin McFarren, Annihilation

“Everlasting obscurity,
the profundities of agony,
this insidious inside,
gather unto the hare,
the lord of misery;
the one who sends our thoughts to chambers of everlasting anguish.

What I see is the onlooker of insidious spirits please, through his spell, I demand furor and wonder.
Mouthings primitive, the tricky presences mouth eats up red.
Unprecedented was the terrible conduct of my soul, down the limitless ages come beating the rabbit's foot of unmerciful misery.”
― D.L. Lewia

“There’s a black hole in my head, deep inside, slowly swallowing my hopes. My heart hits my chest hard as if it will break my ribs and rip apart my skin. I lock eyes with my son, who glares vehemently at me. I knew this would be my last moment realizing the nothingness is now my existence. Then suddenly, the world slowly disappears in front of me. Closing my eyes, I breathe short pants, feeling numb as tears gather behind my eyes.”
― Christine M. Germain, The Stone the Curse of Mastema

“Thus had the giants come, fathered of bestial humans and mothered of monsters.”
― William Hodgenson

“And from The Country Whence Comes The Great Laughter, the Laughter sounded constant … as it were an uncomfortable and heart-shaking voice-thunder rolling thence over the Lands, out from the unknown East. And the Pit of the Red Smoke filled all the Deep Valley with redness, so that the smoke rose above the edge, and hid the bases of the Towers upon the far side.”
― William Hope Hodgson Hope Hodgson

“I look back into the mirror at myself and
suppress a shudder. They took her from me
and they killed her. They killed me.”
― Gabrie'L' Clark, Her Heart Of Lightning: Book One

“There’s radiation in the walls of our apartment building, at least that’s what Buzz tells me.”
― William Pauley III, The Tower

“The radiation from the walls continues to soak into our skin, and we glow happily and beautifully until the moment we all step down into our graves.”
― William Pauley III, The Tower

“How curious is this home, our tower?”
― William Pauley III, The Tower

“In the depths of hell, where darkness reigns,
Lies a being feared by all, Pandemonic Satanica is his name. He is the master of the underworld,
A force to be reckoned with, an entity unfurled.

His power is unmatched, his darkness unyielding,
He is the embodiment of all that is evil and unfeeling. His followers worship him, with fervor and zeal, For they know that his power is absolute, and his will is real.

Pandemonic Satanica, the lord of the abyss,
His power cannot be denied, nor can it be dismissed. His followers revel in his dark embrace, For they know that they are protected by his grace.

To the uninitiated, he may seem like a monster,
But to his followers, he is a savior, a redeemer.
He offers them power, and eternal life,
And they willingly give themselves to his strife.

His evil is all-encompassing, his darkness unrelenting, But those who follow him find his embrace comforting. For they know that in his clutches, they are safe, And that his power will protect them from all that is base.

So hail Pandemonic Satanica, the lord of all that is dark, He is the master of the underworld, and his power leaves a mark. His followers are devoted, and they will never waver, For they know that in his dark embrace, they will find their savior.

They call him the Prince of Darkness, the Lord of the Pit, And in his realm, he commands respect, and none dare to quit. His power is absolute, his rule is supreme, And those who oppose him, will find their end in a dream.

For Pandemonic Satanica, is the embodiment of all that is evil, And his followers embrace that darkness, for in it, they find a sense of upheaval. They revel in the chaos, the destruction, the mayhem, And they know that in his name, they can achieve their ultimate aim.

To the uninitiated, he is a horror, a terror beyond compare, But those who follow him, see in him, a god, a deity, a force to bear. They worship him with passion, with devotion, with love, And they know that in his name, they will rise above.

So let us hail Pandemonic Satanica, the king of the damned, For in his presence, we are strong, and in his embrace, we are calm. His power is absolute, his darkness unyielding, And in his name, we find solace, and our souls are healed.

For in the dark embrace of Pandemonic Satanica,
We find a sense of purpose, a sense of belonging, a sense of euphoria. And we know that in his realm, we are safe, For his power will protect us, and his darkness will keep us brave.”
― D.L. Lewis

“Every now and then I come to the realization that the light only darkens this room."
-Birds On The Walls”
― FinPoet

“Tomorrow I will be reincarnated as the sun, and when I die the birds will migrate north and the world will be cold," —Birds On The Wall”
― FinPoet

“In Joe's opinion, you never went wrong telling a woman she had a lovely name.”
― Liz Tuckwell, Moonsleep and Other Stories

“Bury me, my love, and take a lock of my hair with you. Carry me through the centuries. I think I'd like to share, just a little, in what immortality is like.”
― Cassandra Khaw, The Salt Grows Heavy