Ergebnis Anbieter "Strelbytskyy Multimedia Publishing" in Horror

A young orphan. A sprawling country estate. A distant relative with unsettling interests. This is a tale where quiet dread builds behind closed doors, and the line between scholarly pursuit and ancient ritual begins to blur. Twelve-year-old Stephen Elliott arrives at Aswarby Hall expecting safety—but the deeper he explores its halls, the more he senses that something watches from the shadows. Whispers of vanished children, strange dreams, and spectral figures at the window speak of a secret both chilling and deliberate.

A curious traveler. A forbidden tomb. A name best left unspoken. When Mr. Wraxall digs into the past of a long-dead Swedish nobleman, he unearths more than just history. Something stirs beneath the surface—something ancient, waiting, watching. Count Magnus is a masterpiece of restrained horror by M. R. James, where dread builds slowly and silence says more than screams. Atmospheric, eerie, and unforgettable.

Something ancient lingers beneath the surface of Castringham Hall. In the stillness of the Suffolk countryside, a presence takes root—silent, watchful, and patient. The Ash-tree is M.R. James at his most unsettling: a precise exercise in creeping dread, where history never rests easy and vengeance grows in shadow.

Some histories refuse to stay buried. In A Neighbour's Landmark , M. R. James offers a haunting meditation on place, memory, and the quiet persistence of old wrongs. Through gentle suggestion and masterful restraint, James evokes a creeping dread rooted in the land itself—a whisper of something long forgotten, but never forgiven. This is not merely a ghost story, but a tale where the landscape remembers, and where every stone may carry a secret. Subtle, strange, and unsettling, this is classic James at his most disquieting.

A sacred volume, a forgotten ritual, and the lingering presence of something not entirely gone— The Uncommon Prayer-book whispers of devotion turned to dread. M. R. James crafts a world where piety and peril overlap, where quiet study leads not to understanding, but to unease. This tale moves with the hush of cloisters and the rustle of ancient pages, all the while drawing the listener ever closer to an encounter best left unwritten. Dark, refined, and utterly disquieting.

There is no Number 13 at the hotel. At least, there isn't supposed to be. But when shadows stretch in the wrong direction and the architecture begins to forget its own shape, what starts as a quiet academic stay becomes something else entirely. Elegant, unsettling, and steeped in the unseen, Number 13 is M. R. James at his most refined—where the floorplan of reality folds, and one door too many stands ajar.

The Story of a Disappearance and an Appearance is M. R. James at his most disquieting: where festive streets darken quickly, dreams twist into warnings, and something grotesque walks just beyond the edge of understanding. Blending holiday cheer with a creeping sense of dread, this tale invites the listener to question what hides behind tradition, and what slips through the cracks of propriety. Laced with unease and subtle horror, it is not merely a ghost story—it is a disturbance in the fabric of the ordinary.

An Episode of Cathedral History is one of M. R. James's most quietly chilling tales—a masterwork of subtle horror, antiquarian mystery, and creeping dread. Behind the stone walls of a venerable English cathedral, the past stirs with a presence that should have remained undisturbed. In this haunting narrative, the mundane slips imperceptibly into the macabre. A scholar's inquiry unlocks a forgotten secret; shadows lengthen; and something long sealed away begins to wake.

A gentleman stumbles upon a curious old diary—an innocent discovery, or the key to something far more disturbing? In The Diary of Mr. Poynter, M. R. James once again conjures an atmosphere thick with dread, beauty, and the uncanny. This is a tale where the most ordinary object can become a gateway to forces beyond reason, and where curiosity may lead to quiet terror. With James's trademark subtlety and scholarly unease, the story whispers rather than screams—unsettling the soul long after the final word. Haunting, intricate, and elegantly unnerving.

A new Latin master. A strange sentence. A figure at the window. When boys at a quiet English school begin seeing things that shouldn't be there—and writing things they don't understand—a mystery begins to unfold, darker than any textbook could explain. In A School Story, M. R. James blends scholarly detail with creeping dread to deliver a haunting tale of the past refusing to stay buried. Quiet horror with a bite.

The Treasure of Abbot Thomas draws its listener into a labyrinth of ancient secrets, cryptic clues, and a warning that should never have been ignored. In this masterwork of antiquarian dread, M. R. James summons a world where curiosity is a dangerous impulse, and knowledge—particularly the hidden kind—has its price. With echoes of stone chambers and whispered Latin, this is a tale not merely of treasure, but of the peril that guards it. Let your ears adjust to the dark—and beware what answers back.

An Evening's Entertainment is a tale that lives up to its deceptively quaint title, offering not comfort, but a slow, tightening dread. In the hands of master ghost-storyteller M. R. James, a quiet rural setting becomes the stage for something far more sinister—where folklore whispers, tradition conceals, and the past refuses to stay buried. Dripping with unease and the chill of things half-seen, this is a story to be heard in silence, with the lights low and the wind outside. It is not simply entertainment—it is an invocation. Let the evening begin.

The Thing in the Cellar (1932) is a horror short story by American author, David H. Keller. Dr. Keller, who sometimes used the pseudonym Henry Cecil, began writing science fiction, fantasy, weird and horror stories in the 1920s. His best known story is The thing in the cellar, one of many tales that developed from his experience in psychiatry.