Thanksgiving Horror Movies Novels & Stories

Mindy Horton and I got married on Thanksgiving. Coincidentally, her assistant went abroad to further his studies that day. I did not pay much attention to it until the eve of another Thanksgiving three years later. I was browsing TikTok and came across Mindy, who was in a street interview about couples. The reporter stopped her and asked, "Excuse me. Could I have a second of your time? Who would you like to spend today with?" Mindy paused for a moment. She struggled to answer after a long while, "With my lover." "Call him now. He should know how you feel!" I smiled as I sat up, ready to pick up Mindy's call. However, when I looked up, I saw Mindy sobbing to another man on the screen. "I know you've returned, and I still can't forget you after all these years. Do you know how much I regret not marrying you and marrying another man? We missed our chance with each other three years ago. Let's spend Thanksgiving together this year!" I sat in bed all night and booked a flight out of the country the next morning. "When are you leaving?" my assistant asked. I replied, "On Thanksgiving."

Because of a last-minute business trip, my husband missed the Thanksgiving family dinner. I spent the entire day helping out at my in-laws' place in the countryside with our five-year-old son, only to receive a complaint from the downstairs neighbor just before dinner. "Ari, could you please close your kitchen window when you're cooking? I can smell the hot sauce from all the way here. My husband has a lung condition—he can't handle it." My neighbor's words shocked me, and I immediately called my husband, who was allergic to chili peppers. "Honey, did someone break into the house? The neighbor said there was smoke coming from the kitchen." His breathing hitched for a second before he let out a casual laugh. "No break-in. My flight got canceled, so I was home alone cooking. When are you two coming back? I really miss you." I smiled and told him we'd stay a couple more days, but in the middle of the night, I packed up our son and drove straight home.

Everyone believed Solène was just a quiet, virtuous wife; the woman who stood behind her husband’s success and asked for nothing in return. But they were wrong. At a Thanksgiving dinner meant to celebrate family, Solène’s marriage is shattered when her husband, Lewis Crawford, introduces another woman and claims she is carrying his child. In front of those who benefited from her sacrifice, Solène is asked to accept the unthinkable with grace because a medical report said she can no longer conceive. She does not scream nor protest. She just smiled and accepted it, knowing fully well she held her husband's future in his hand. When she took the step to ruin him, she never expected that the satisfaction of watching him suffer would open doors to many more betrayals, and an obstacle she never saw coming. **** She scoffed bitterly, turning to him once more. “The first man I helped off his feet was you, Lewis. I vowed never to do it again.”

Miss the blood boiling thrillers that you used to enjoy? Every night, we have a horror story to send you into the sweet, scary dreams.

My husband promised we would spend Thanksgiving with my parents this year. Right before we left, he looked down at his phone and frowned. "Damn it. I forgot to change the delivery address again. Your parents' gift basket went to Cassia's place." I stood in the entryway with my fingers frozen around my scarf. For three years of marriage, Roman DeLuca had never removed Cassia Vail's address from his shopping apps. Whenever I asked him why, he always said the same thing: "Cassia and I grew up together. She’s basically family." The Italian espresso machine I wanted went to her apartment. He said her old machine had broken anyway. The sapphire bracelet for our wedding anniversary was signed for by her. He said asking for it back after she opened it would look petty. The sunflowers and baby's breath he promised me on Valentine's Day ended up in her hands. He said she had already put them in a vase, and he couldn't give me secondhand flowers. This time, I had reminded him for two weeks. The Thanksgiving basket had a low-sugar pumpkin pie, nut-free cookies, and a custom low-sodium turkey roll for my father. I had chosen every item myself. It still went to Cassia. I kept my voice steady. "Drive over and get it back." Roman's face darkened. "She already signed for it. What do you want me to do? We'll pick up wine and pastries on the way. Same thing." "It isn't the same. Get it back." He pinched the bridge of his nose. "Elena, can you stop turning every little thing into a family trial? No one makes things awkward like you do." Every time something meant for me ended up with his childhood sweetheart, I asked him to get it back. Every time, I got some version of the same answer. I stopped arguing and watched him slam the door behind him. A few minutes later, I wiped my tears and texted my attorney. [Happy Thanksgiving. Please draft a divorce agreement for me. Thank you.]

When the owner of the horror game world summoned me home to reunite with my family, I was busy scolding the horrors in my dungeon. After spending years as a dungeon boss, I finally learned that I was the heiress of the Swans in the real world. The moment I stepped through the front door, carrying the gifts my horrors gave me on my back, the fake heiress shoved me hard to the ground. "Don't even think you can come back and take my place! Mom and Dad will never love you!" My birth parents treated me with indifference, made me sleep in the storage room, and used me to make their fake daughter look good. At a banquet, my fiancé splashed red wine on me before acting intimate with the fake heiress right in front of my face. It wasn't until the fake heiress was chosen to participate in 'Call of the Sea', a horror scenario, that they remembered my value. Without any hesitation, they bound me to enter the game with her, gently reassuring her, "Don't worry, Anna, we'll make sure you're safe no matter what!" "Don't be afraid, alright? Sylvia will die in your place!" None of them noticed the mocking smile on my lips. Silently, I spoke in my heart, 'Welcome to my dungeon! Now, none of you will leave alive!'

It was my third day working as an NPC cashier in a horror game when the supermarket got completely wrecked by players. They stormed in, smashing shelves, looting everything, setting fires, feeling real proud of themselves. "Told you the shopkeeper here was useless. Absolutely trash in all combat stats," one said. "Grab whatever you want. Once we're done, we'll just kill the owner," another chimed in. My mouth was gagged. I shook my head in terror. One of the players sneered. "Begging? That won't save you." No! That was not what I was trying to say! I was trying to tell them that today was the NPC internal shopping day. Three minutes from now, every single dungeon boss in the entire game would be rushing here to shop.

It’s end of October 1985 and the crumbling river town of Dubois, Iowa is shocked by the gruesome murder of one of the pillars of the community. Detective David Carlson has no motive, no evidence, and only one lead: the macabre local legend of “Boris Orlof,” a late night horror movie host who burned to death during a stage performance at the drive-in on Halloween night twenty years ago and the teenage loner obsessed with keeping his memory alive. The body count is rising and the darkness that hangs over the town grows by the hour. Time is running out as Carlson desperately chases shadows into a nightmare world of living horrors. On Halloween the drive-in re-opens at midnight for a show no one will ever forget. ©️ Crystal Lake Publishing

In real life, I had been pushed to the brink by an online romance scam. Just when everything fell apart, I awakened something called the Devotion System, and before I could make sense of it, I found myself thrown into a horror game. Among all the players, I was the weakest, barely able to take care of myself. If I wanted to survive, I had only one option—find someone stronger and cling to them, no matter what it took. However, things did not go the way I expected. Every player avoided me like the plague. Not a single one was willing to team up. With nowhere left to turn, I made a desperate decision. I chose a ghost. I treated her as my bound partner and devoted myself completely to her, clinging to her as if my life depended on it. However, as I spent more time with her, I began to realize she was not just something terrifying. She was someone who had been hurt, someone deeply broken. Hence, I stopped pretending. I began to help her sincerely. In the end, we overcame everything together and cleared the game. However, when I returned to the real world, I discovered something I never could have expected. She had followed me back. From that moment on, all I could do was wait for the system to pull me into the next stage.

I had a perception disorder that messed with how I saw and felt stuff. So when I got dropped into a horror game, everyone else freaked out trying to survive— Me? I thought I was in a dating sim. I raised a young fae like she was my kid, fell for the vampire count, and treated the undead like my in-laws. The first time I saw the vampire—face torn up, soaked in blood—I straight-up blushed. "You're really handsome." He froze. Then, low and uncertain: "Am I... really handsome?"