halloween
Get into the Halloween spirit; all about trick or treating, spooky costumes, Halloween decorations and haunted houses for October 31st and all year round.
When the darkness calls
One! ho isscn1bbing dishes in front of that pond , Foushee shouted... Hearing her scream, her parents looked at the pond fron1the roof and saw that there was no one in the pond. They then took Foushee honle. This pond has a quota..every year it will attract one aninial to itself - be it human or animal; Folklore has it that the day the pond was cut in the year 1990, there were jungles and jungles all around, nlurders were going on. A mnd old woman was murdered and buried under this pond. Not only the nlad old woman, but many other bodies were buried. But that crazy old wonrnn did not harmanyone. Many have seen that crazy old woman; But that crazy old lady whom he doesn't see. When someone ishaving a bad tinle, or when someone is having a good time, that old lady can be seen.
By Md. Apple Mia2 years ago in Horror
Whispers in the Shadows: The Haunting of Blackwood Manor
In the heart of a mist-laden forest, where ancient trees whisper secrets to the wind, stands Blackwood Manor - a decaying mansion with a history as dark as the shadows that cling to its walls. The villagers, plagued by fear and superstition, spoke of a curse that had befallen the once-glorious estate. After the sun had sunk below the horizon no one dared approach, for it was said that the spirits of the past appeared with the darkness.
By Jone Likhon2 years ago in Horror
Murmurs from Past
Murmurs from Past: Tormenting Stories of the Inconspicuous In the quietness of the evening , when the world dozes and the main sound are those of your own breath, have you at any point felt a shudder down your spine? A mysterious presence that sends goosebumps dashing across your skin? These are the murmurs from past, the unpleasant stories of the concealed that have interested and unnerved mankind for a really long time. In this blog entry, we will set out on an excursion through the chilling domains of spooky experiences, unexplained peculiarities, and the persevering through secrets that keep on tormenting our minds.
By MD Rifatul Islam2 years ago in Horror
“The Curse of Bhangarh: Trapped in the Haunted Shadows”
The moon was high in the sky in Rajasthan, and it made the city of Bhangarh look spooky with its light. The city that used to be prosperous is now destroyed, with its tall buildings and falling apart palace reminding people of a disliked past. As the sun went down, the atmosphere in Bhangarh was different, and the air seemed to become denser with a creepy feeling.
By ScribbleSage2 years ago in Horror
The Haunting Refrain: A Symphony of Eternal Torment
The moon hung low in the essay- black sky, expiring creepy murk through the elderly forestland. Thick, gnarled trees brewed like cadaverous elephants , their branches reaching out like cadaverous galettes ready to catch any unknowing vagabond. It was a situation where indeed the bold defied not foot , for the whispers of the locals spoke of a curse that had chanced the timberland. One cataclysmal night, a group of audacious buddies concluded to ersatz the portentous tales. Sarah, the fearless line, had heard keys of a long- lost air, a song that could grant inextinguishable life. Eager to try the terminations of their courage, they set out into the heart of the haunted forestland. The air grew colder as they ventured deeper into the timberland, and the formerly asking path came crooked and grown. A sense of foreboding crept over them like a cloak, but they pressed on. Sarah, a blessed musician, carried her violin, ready to play the forgotten air. As they shifted through the ghostly forestland, they stumbled upon an elderly, moss- covered monument well. It sat alone, girdled by an creepy stillness. Sarah, propelled by an inexplicable appetite, approached the fountain. The others followed in stillness as she ventilated her violin to her chin and began to play. The creepy air filled the air, transferring jitters down their chines. The notes sounded to resonate with the very soul of the forestland. Leaves rustled, and murk danced, but nothing prepared them for what happened next. Arising from the fountain was a figure draped in tattered, ethereal robes. Its face was obscured by darkness, but its eyes glowed with an unearthly light. The being extended a cadaverous phase toward Sarah, who lasted to play the haunting tune, unqualified to stop herself." Who are you?" she asked, her voice pulsing." I am the guardian of the forgotten air," the figure replied in a voice like a chorus of whispers." I have anticipated for centuries for someone to play it formerly more." The figure's phase touched the violin, and Sarah's galettes shifted of their own accord, playing the air with an unearthly indulgence. The forestland sounded to come alive, and the very trees swayed in time with the music. As the final notes faded into the night, the figure spoke again." Your letch for inextinguishable life has awakened me, but there is a freight to be paid." Sarah's buddies followed in monstrosity as the figure passed into her casket, pulling forth a spectral, palpitating heart. Sarah screamed in agony, unqualified to rebut. The figure placed the heart into a glass crash and sealed it with a cork. The forestland fell silent formerly more." Your heart now belongs to the air," the figure intoned." You are granted inextinguishable life, but you shall ever remain its prisoner." Sarah's body sat motionless, her soul netted within the air, forced to play it for all perpetuity. Her buddies, horrified and defenseless to support, fled from the cursed forestland, the creepy air echoing in their smarts. Times passed, and the mind of that fateful night visited Sarah's buddies. They tried to forget, but the air remained in their conceits, a haunting keepsake of their portion in Sarah's murder. Some left megacity, while others sought comfort in remedy, but the air's grip on their souls noway waned. One by one, they penetrated appointments to a mysterious gathering in the heart of the forestland, each signed with Sarah's name. They knew they had no choice but to return to the situation of their agonies. As they sat before the same well, the figure cropped formerly more, its eyes glowing with an inextinguishable belly. It demanded that they each play the air and surrender their centrals to the cursed tune, icing Sarah would nowise be alone in her inextinguishable murder. One by one, they played the creepy air, their centrals tattered from their cases and sealed in glass concussions. As their bodies fell breathless to the ground, their souls joined Sarah's in the endless symphony. The forestland, now darker and further crooked than ever, absorbed their life force, and the air grew stronger with each transitory time. It praised through the trees, drawing in farther unknowing souls, perpetuating the curse for all time. And accordingly, the forgotten air played on, a terrifying requiem that praised through the cursed forestland, soliciting those who defied to seek the secrets of inextinguishable life. Those who entered were ever locked in a noway- ending agony, their centrals stolen and their souls netted in an endless symphony of monstrosity. The legend of the haunted forestland grew, and none would ever refuse to enter again, for fear of getting another casualty of the forgotten air.
By Sanaf Ahmed2 years ago in Horror
Blood and the Lightning Bolt
The monster was doing its best to make Evan scream. It broke his legs, which elicited the faintest gasp. Evan remained silent during the beating and the nail extractions, which he thought was a nice twist. He actually enjoyed the sharp sting that raced from his toes to the back of his jaw like sour candy with each pop off the nail bed.
By Lynn Jordan2 years ago in Horror
