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Write a ghost story where there’s more going on than it first appears.

Posted in Mystery on Jul 27, 2021

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✍️ 225 stories

The Manor of Highland Moors

Submitted to Contest #64

It seemed as though they had been driving for days, but it had only been five hours. The twisting, narrow roads through the Transylvanian mountains prolonged the trip. Theresa could feel the knots in her stomach, but she wasn’t sure if it was from the long drive or the fact she just married a perfect stranger. Perhaps it was both. Nevertheless, the ride in the car could not possibly have made time seem to move any slower. The car traveled through a long tunnel through a widely set mountain. Before entering the tunnel, the sky was blue with n...

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Give Them a Voice

Submitted to Contest #64

“It’s definitely authentic,” I said, trying to stoke the fires of enthusiasm in my voice. I’m pretty sure I failed.“Are you sure?” Mason Dearborn asked. He squinted slightly in my direction, probably scrutinizing my lack of excitement. He wouldn’t be the first to question my hollow emotions. Ever since coming home from ‘Nam, I’ve felt like a lifeless shell moved along by the strings of life’s responsibilities.“Yes, Mr. Dearborn,” I said. “It’s a genuine nine millimeter German Luger manufactured between 1930 and 1942. The fakes are usually mi...

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"Conductors, Smugglers, Curses and Tales." : A Lazarus Graim Tale

Submitted to Contest #64

They all nodded in agreement. This aging group of gnarled, weather-beaten faces, their woolen jumpers smelling of salt, fish-oil and pipe smoke, all responded in unison. The old master's mansion up on the coast road was as haunted as any structure in the whole of Christendom. Jacob the most senior amongst them, growled at Jebediah."You'd best to cross yourself if ever within its shadow." They all approved again taking generous drinks from their tankards, full of bitter tasting, badly brewed ale. They then sighed in communal congruity as...

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Out of luck

Submitted to Contest #64

“That’s seventeen pounds and forty-three pence, Mrs Hartridge.” Margaret flipped open her purse, where she found two ten-pound notes. One of them was of the older kind, the ones they were phasing out, which she recognised as the one she’d found in a pair of Harry’s trousers as she’d emptied his wardrobes. Her eyes paused briefly over it, but quickly held it out together with the other one. Mr Tennison, however, remained motionless behind the counter, save for an apologetic shake of his head. “I’m afraid we don’t take cash anymore, Mrs. Hartr...

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Strange Happenings

Submitted to Contest #64

Her eyes glanced over the spines until she found her favorite book and grabbed it. It was a fantasy book and even though she had read it a thousand times, she always found herself coming back to it. At this point, she probably didn’t even have to open it and read, she could recite it. She knew every scene by heart, from the battles with giant spiders and other monsters to the sweet romance that springs up between the main characters. Sometimes she wishes it was like that for her, but it wasn’t and here she was still waiting. Maya carried th...

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Mirrors

Submitted to Contest #64

Mirrors By: Aprill Jones               It was a dark, rainy Saturday when I got word that my uncle Richard had passed. We were fairly estranged, my mother and father did not talk to him but twice a year, on Christmas and his birthday. He was not a bad man whatsoever, from my few interactions with him he was actually incredibly kind and funny. My parents just said that he was a hoarder and refused to leave his home, but somewhere in my subconscious, I understood. He had a...

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Gwen's Ghosts

Submitted to Contest #64

It’s dark. Not just dark, an impenetrable, oppressive darkness. You walk along a dirt road, your new white shoes squish into the mud and come up brown. But you cannot see this because of the impenetrable, oppressive darkness. A light looms in the distance on your left. It grows closer and closer as you squelch through the mud. The light morphs into a house as the distance diminishes. A small, wooden, two story house with a covered porch and a screen door. It sits in a dusty, tidy yard with a garden patch behind it and a picket fence in front...

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Collage 2

Submitted to Contest #64

It’s been a couple months since I moved into this house. I don’t own it, there’s a portly landlord. I met her when I moved in and she handed me the keys and the documentation for my new place. Didn’t think much of her at first. Not to be mean, but she’s the kind of person who’s hard to remember once you’re not looking at her. Not ugly, just plain looking. Handed me the keys and said that if I ever lost them or something like that, she had a spare set in her house. So, I settled in and moved all my stuff in and such. Initially it was great; ...

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More than a ghost

Submitted to Contest #64

 “Pack your clothes quickly, Hannah. We’re moving now.” Hannah’s mother shouted from downstairs.   Annoyed by her mother shouting, Hannah replied from upstairs with a grudging tone. Although Hannah was used to her mother yelling for years, she could not stand it from time to time and became angry with her mother. Hannah stuffed the last dress in her suitcase, put on her checkered skirts and a white shirt with a tie. In fact, it was her high school uniform; however, it was really well-designed that it could suit her daily lif...

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Moor Liath

Submitted to Contest #64

In yellow rubber boots sausaged thick with mud, Aileen walked over the moor. Cautious as a lamb – two spindly legs, two biscuity knees, downy hair and pale skin yarned with blue veins – she stepped around pockets of soft peat: miniature bogs that would suck her down and keep her, holding her prisoner among the bracken and the moss. She had always felt safe on the moors. Her baby-bird coloring and gauzy heart were amulets against misplacement. As she walked she watched her feet; when she looked up it was to assess the topography of her chil...

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It wasn't just another cliche ghost story and camping

Submitted to Contest #64

In a summertime afternoon, 5 friends were getting ready for their yearly camping trip for they became friends even after the closure of their school camp. They were all interested in each other for they all have traits that befit one another and they became close like father and daughter. A trip that once was enjoyable will soon be a nightmare of confusion, betrayal and riddles. Their friendship was confronted by a series of trust and faith. Will they succeed in this situation or will they rot in their regrets? Read to find out. Chapter 1:...

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The hollow forest

Submitted to Contest #64

The sun was setting, slowly, painfully. I made my way through the hollow forest, not remembering where I came from or where I was going.  It had a familiar feeling to it, like if I'd been here before, the weeping trees, the loud quiet that rushed through the breeze. It just seemed so familiar.  "- That doesn't matter right now," I thought out loud and kept on walking deeper and deeper into this unknown maze. One thing was for sure: I had to find shelter.  The dropping temperatures made it clear that I wouldn't make it till mor...

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Dad's Truth Tale

Submitted to Contest #64

DAD’S TRUTH TALE  By Tyler Miclean  My name is Durston Dursy Everett. My daddy, when he was alive, used to tell me this story as a kid. He didn’t just tell it to me the one time. He told it more often than any other story, and he told at least one or two most nights before I went to sleep. It was never exactly the same. He’d change bits of it here and there, points of view, locations, small details, but the end never really changed. One time, I asked him what it meant. All he would say is that a man’s gotta face the truth, eve...

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Haunters' Hunt

Submitted to Contest #64

Lachlan and Nye knew very well a haunting’s success lied in the delicate relationship between the haunted and the haunters, just like the food chain relied on the eternal dance between the prey and the predator. A falcon dies without a mouse to feed on, and so do the disincarnate. The two spirits had haunted Quaver House for decades, and they had learned to successfully prey on the manor’s buyers, feeding on their fears to the point where they ran away with broken souls that could never be mended. Three had been pushed to murder; four had be...

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The Valley

Submitted to Contest #64

I had managed to get lost in the jungle-like Pololu valley where I had slung my hammock up amongst the towering trees for the night. Now I was panicking, while stumbling blindly in the deep ebony blanket of darkness that enveloped everything, slowly encasing me in shadow. My thirst felt suddenly unquenchable, as if I was lost at sea surrounded only by salty water that would act more like cyanide that savior. I needed water. It was at my camp, but where was that? I scrambled frantically along the worn trails that twisted through the vall...

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