Ghost Town

Submitted for Contest #91 in response to: Set your story in a library, after hours.... view prompt


Apr 26, 2021

Horror Suspense Thriller

Author’s Note: Hi! This is random but I liked it! My first actual attempt at a supernatural horror thriller. Tell me how it was!

Ghost Town

A Horror Short Story by Ana Govindasamy

Empty carcasses. 

That’s all they are. 

Empty carcasses. 

Abandoned houses haunt me, as I drive further up the road.

My rusty car begins to sputter as it stares upon the hill it will soon have to climb. I jam the pedal, and it pulls through. 

I hate this town. 


I hate it with a passion. 

Every house, it once held a family. Once held life. Life that was stripped from it. Killed. Ripped apart by distrust. 

Of course, some escaped. Some left of their own accord. 

But that was the exception as opposed to the rule. 

I spot a few people at the side of the road, ragged and hungry, in my side mirror. 

I turn my head. 

They disappear. 

The shivers running down my spine increase. 

A lone dog bark echoes in the dusk. Rain starts to lash at my windows. The more I listen, the more it sounds like paws on concrete. 

I pass a pharmacy, next to a supermarket and a hardware store. All deserted. But I see the most bones, the most corpses, and I smell the most blood the most despair there. More chills scamper across my body, so many it starts to hurt. 

It would’ve been a smart move, going there first. If they hadn’t planted landmines.

I’m so lost in thought, I don’t notice the crunch.  

Until it’s too late. 

A ghostly howl rings out. 

There were paws behind the rain. 

I get out of the car to see if I can help the poor thing.

The answer is no. 

No, I can’t. 

It’s dead. 

Just as dead as the rest of this town. 

Then another wail pierces the purple skies. 

An old woman approaches me, back hunched, skin wrinkled and sagging, twisted fingers and knobbly bones, jutting out at unnatural angles. Her face is scarred and bloody, eyes unable to open. A scarf is strapped tightly around her, like it’s holding her together. 

It takes a minutes for me to realise that the wail wasn’t her.

There’s a baby in there, in her scarf. A deformed, half dead baby. 

Rain is falling all around us, yet they are as dry as ever.

The shivers turn to pain. Physical pain. 

I fight it. Hard. Slowly, I begin to get to the car. 

I’m not stopping now.

I slam my foot on the pedal and I clear the hill. 


I need to get to the library. 

I look in my rear view mirror. 

The lady is following me, at a scarily fast pace. 

The sign creaks up ahead, a leather bound book, almost like it’s been hanged. 

I look back. The woman isn’t there. 

I smash into the door. It crumbles from dry rot. 


My niece should be here. 

She has to be here. 

Top floor. 

She escaped the war, got me on pay phone and told me 

“Top floor. Jane Eyre.”

I scan the room for a guide.

There’s a sign.


Floor two. 

I sprint up the stairs. 

No one is there. 

Then a floorboard creaks. 

I turn. 

That woman is standing there. Her baby screams. 

I scream louder. 


No reply. 

I don't know why I expect her to know.

I just need Libby back.



“WHERE. IS. LIBERTY. GREEN.” I scream again. 

She smiles, a smile revealing three rotting teeth. She speaks in a raspy, terrifying voice. 

“I couldn’t tell you about Liberty. But I could tell you about me. Bertha Mason.” 

She laughs, a terrifying, low cackle.

Shivers paralyse me. 

She extends a hand, fingertips flaming. My flesh meets fire. Pain courses through me.

As flames start forming, I can’t see her through the inferno. I can hear her.

Behind the screams, her screams, the baby’s and mine, I hear someone else.


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That Asian Creep
15:58 Apr 27, 2021

I- Wow 😳


Ana Govindasamy
15:59 Apr 27, 2021



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Miranda Torres
06:21 May 04, 2021

Not much of a horror story ready but the descriptions you gave made me feel there and made the story more vivid. Will definitely consider reading them more often! I enjoyed your short story and will be more open with my reading options.


Ana Govindasamy
06:41 May 04, 2021

Thanks so much, Miranda, I’m glad you enjoyed it!


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Ana Govindasamy
03:08 May 04, 2021

NOTE FOR ALL Y’ALL WHO GO ON LIKE SPREES: I personally think that likes are nice, but comments and critiques are much more helpful! I kind of hate it when people just go on random liking sprees. I would appreciate it much more if you took the time to read and give feedback. Points are nice but at the end of the day, improvement is better!


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Helen Ross
05:41 Apr 29, 2021

I really like this! I hate horror stories so I'm glad it wasn't too gruesome haha. you said in your bio you wanted feedback, the only thing I would say is I think it might be interesting to have a few slightly longer paragraphs? There's one in the middle which is really nice, it just varies the pace of the writing so it can build tension or add to a sense of fear if you have long, run-on sentences rather than just short ones. Overall it's really really good though! (also, if you get a sec, would you mind checking out one of my most recent? I...


Ana Govindasamy
05:44 Apr 29, 2021

Thanks so much, Helen! I’ll try that out next time. And sure I’ll check it out!


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Alex Auclair
17:29 Apr 27, 2021

Great story! I'm a huge horror fan and this one pulled me in. My favorite line was "Rain starts to lash at my windows. The more I listen, the more it sounds like paws on concrete." So good! Really well done.


Ana Govindasamy
20:15 Apr 27, 2021

Thanks so much, Alex!


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Svara Narasiah
01:56 Apr 27, 2021

Oh my goodness... this horrified me in a good way—I felt a little queasy after reading the woman’s description 😂 but good job!!


Ana Govindasamy
04:50 Apr 27, 2021

Thanks, Svara!


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03:08 Apr 28, 2021

I am nightingale I read and sing your stories in the flowering garden and all birds, firefly, fairy and flowers are smiling and very thankful to you for writing such an excellent story.


Ana Govindasamy
05:14 Apr 28, 2021



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