Horror
The Possible Haunting of Old Man Norton
Old Man Norton fell and broke his leg. It would've been a tragedy if it hadn't been the third time this week. Eloise Via, the housekeeper, couldn't tell if he was breaking it in more than one place or healing faster than any person alive. In the end, she decided it wasn't her business. Her business was to clean the very old house, which she was sure, had started rotting in the basement.
By Madison Betcher4 years ago in Fiction
The Story of Abigail Adelaide
I'm tired and it's raining hard. The road ahead is so foggy I can barely see it. It feels like I've been on highway forty-eight forever. My eyelids felt like they weighed a ton and my head started to fall toward the steering wheel. Been mostly me and my little red car out on the road tonight and it's late, extremely late. What a long day its been.
By M.O. LeClair4 years ago in Fiction
A Ghost's Revenge
There is only one thing that I enjoy most over digging… It’s burying the bodies of my victims. That is why being a Grave digger is the perfect job for me. I love the feeling of the shovel in my hands, the sensation of it digging into the beautiful brown dirt. It reminds me of the many times I dug up empty graves for my victims. Not just that, but I have grown to realize that it is so much easier digging 8 feet down, place the body bag there, cover it up with some dirt and leaving 6 feet of empty space for the casket that is designated to be placed there the next day.
By Sharon Caro 4 years ago in Fiction
The Voice of Silence
I awake with a start to the slamming of a door. A quick glance around the room reminds me that I had left the window open as I slept. The cat looks at me with an expression that clearly means to say: "I'm awake from my nap and it’s your fault, I know it."
By Maggie Fedorov4 years ago in Fiction
Solitary
The fireflies dance magnificently in the shadow of the Big House. Electric disco lights reflect joyfully in the razor wire; pulsating music I can feel but not hear. It’s been eleven days. I can tell them apart. They’re unique; I’ve named them. Oddly, I can’t picture my son’s face. Like a jigsaw puzzle before me, I know where everything goes, but it remains unfinished.
By Dutch Simmons4 years ago in Fiction
Ghost Bus Tour
A man with ruddy cheeks smiles warmly at me from behind the scratched plexiglass barrier. He slides a single red ticket across the dividing metal tray which serves as the bridge between his world and mine. “ADMIT ONE,” it states. The red ticket is followed by a small black plastic rectangle with antiquated earbuds wrapped hastily around it. All this cost me only five dollars.
By Matt Tanner4 years ago in Fiction
Twisted Tales Of Lakeview Manor
“Hey Mike, turn that up! That song is lit!” Timothy yelled up front taping Mike on the shoulder. “It’s as loud as it can go dude!” Mike yelled over the loud music while gripping the steering wheel tight. “You’re spilling beer all over my new ride bro! Sit back, we’re almost there!” Mike yelled at Timothy holding up a cup of beer he got from a party they had attended earlier that night. “Hey Mike, turn here, we can get to shutter street much quicker this way”, Stan yelled loudly over the speakers blasting from Mike’s car. “Alright man, but keep your cup down in case we run into a cop or something”, Timothy yelled to the back at his friend. “You must have forgotten that my dad is the deputy sheriff. He’s not going to bother us man. We’re just having a little fun that’s all, just lighten up and have a drink with us”, Stan pulled two beers from a cooler he had beside him on the back seat and proceeded to toss one to Timothy and Mike. “I’m good man”, Mike said loudly. “I’ll have one when we get inside”, Mike was turning onto shutter street entering the old abandoned house that’s been there for centuries. “Alright Losers, we’re here, now let’s party!” Mike announced happily as he leaped out of the driver seat and slammed the door shut. “Aren’t we going to wait for the girls to get here before we head inside?” Timothy asked while staggering from all of the alcohol he had consumed that night. “Oh heck no!” Stan responded. “They will see the car out here and come join us if they’re not too scared”, Mike added. Timothy, Mike and Stan went into the dark abandoned house creating a path throughout the cobwebs that covered the entrance of the front door. Mike instantly started to notice weird noises coming from upstairs and started to panic. “Did you hear that?” Mike asked nervously. “This house is ancient, you’re probably going to hear a lot of weird noises in here”, Stan reassured Mike. “Yeah man, this place is pretty old. It wouldn’t be normal if you didn’t hear a crack or two”, Timothy added while giggling. “No guys! I really do hear footsteps coming from upstairs!” Mike looked upstairs and noticed someone standing there with a long dress that looked like something someone would wear from the early nineteen hundred. “Do you guys see that!?” Mike said pointing towards the bottom of the stairs while shaking tremendously. “Who are you!?” Stan demanded while approaching the stairs to the woman in the dress. “Don’t get too close to whoever that is man! She could be dangerous!” Timothy yelled at Stan. Stan looked over at the guys and said, “I’m not afraid of a woman in a dress. What can she possibly do to us?” Mike laughed loudly and proceeded to approach the lady in the dress. The lady vanished into thin air and reappeared in front of them glowing with rage. Mike and Tyler ran outside hurriedly to get back into Mike’s car. Stan yelled at them to come back because he thought it was a prank from the girls who were supposed to be meeting them there. After Stan realized that this was not a prank, it was too late. The lady at the end of the stairs snatched him up and disappeared with Stan spontaneously. Mike and Timothy leaped into the car speeding off to go get help. When they arrived back to the house with Stan’s father the deputy sheriff, there were no signs of Stan or anyone ever being there. Six months later……...
By Jennifer Derrico4 years ago in Fiction
Haunted.
The outside was unknown to her but she saw everything she needed to see out of the last of the window in his room. When I was born there was something Demonic about the house. Something was peculiar about it. There were noises at night, doors slamming, footsteps down the hall and the worst thing about it you were never alone, someone was always watching you wherever you were! Even in the safty of your own bedroom where figures visit my house. I use to swear they cam through the window that knobody could agree on and thought it was a “phase”
By Dawn Earnshaw4 years ago in Fiction
