Short horror stories from horror writer Lake Lopez. If you'd like to read the stories on paper, scroll to the bottom and click the red Adobe icon Download PDF. Ghost. Stories. The Indian Reading Series. ALMuk. Level V Book 7 True Story of A Ghost It was a scary place and a long ride to get home. Classic horror stories from the 19th and 20th century, including the ones by Bram Stoker, H.P. Lovecraft, and Edgar Allan Poe. Free download.
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Three Ghost Stories. Charles Dickens. This eBook was designed and published by Planet PDF. .. The nameless horror that oppressed me passed in a moment . Free site book and epub digitized and proofread by Project Gutenberg. Behind every man now alive stand 30 ghosts, for that is the ratio by which the dead outnumber the living.” - Arthur C. Clarke Ghost stories may seem silly by the .
I parked under the bridge turned off the car and lights and took the key out of the ignition. We were joking together about how we were getting to old for this stuff. And when I looked in the rear view mirror I saw a black shadow flash by the rear window of my car follow by some noises that sounds like someone running towards my car.
My heart never raced so fast to put my key into the ignition and peel out and get out of there. Lake Havasu ghost. A few years back I was camping in Lake Havasu with my brother and a few friends; my brother and I were working on building a fire while the other guys were on the boat mooring it to the shore.
We had a hole we dug where we had our previous fires that trip, so my brother and got the fire going and sat down around the pit. The fire was burning for a good 10 minutes and was at a decent size before the most bizarre thing happened. The fire just went out, completely extinguished, as in no more flame. The embers were still there emitting heat, but the flame was gone. My brother and I looked at each other then back at the fire pit. The time Grandma came to say goodbye. My paternal grandmother died when I was six.
I lived in NY. She lived in PA. I met her maybe twice. My father had an easy chair in one corner for reading. I sat in the chair. It opened, and Grandma came out and stood about six feet away. I went back to my room. About two hours later, about 6am, the phone rings. It was a call from PA that Gramma Catherine had died in her sleep.
She made me repeat the story three times, and then told me never, ever to tell my father that story. And I never did. This happened my senior year of college, Christmas break He was gone for three days and had a huge piece of land in the middle of nowhere.
I invited my GF at the time. He had horses and fishing and a gator to ride around on, etc. So the first two nights went down with no incident, but the last night, his little foofy dog is having a fit. She keeps barking at the back door. At first we blow it off but decide to lock the dog inside in case of a coyote or something. After a while we start to get a little creeped out.
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She goes outside and says she saw something small and grey probably a coyote and it ran off. So, just an animal, no worries. We decide to get into bed…awkward silence…then I hear it…it sounds like a young girl singing a soft, eerie lullaby.
I even called someone to talk to me while we walked out to my car. Next morning, went to clean up the house and such. We have an old Mercury Grand Marquis that my dad had wanted to download for years. The owner would never sell it, even though it was just left sitting there. After he died, his daughter sold it to us for pretty cheap, because she knew how bad my dad wanted it.
I left at 10 that night, and it had stopped raining, and I had to drive my friend home. So, we continued conversation and I got to his house about 5 minutes later.
When we got there, I asked him if him if he heard something weird when we turned onto the road. He said he heard the exact same thing I did, and I was freaked the fuck out.
This sounds like such a made-up story, but I really wish it was. Before the kitchen was renovated a few years prior, our dish room used to be part of the morgue. Every time I went into the dish room, something would be moved, turned over, or missing. Every night, I would hear carts being moved around, dishes being put away, and silverware rattling.
It got to the point where I was terrified to come to work every night. From then on, everything actually went quite well. It took us a little while to find a radio station we could agree on, but we worked harmoniously after that. We moved into a new house a few months ago. As we were in the process of downloading the house, the renter who was living in it died unexpectedly of natural causes in his mids. He died right in the middle of the living room. Shortly after, we move into the house, and almost immediately our 2-year-old daughter starts talking about the ghost that lives in our house.
Still, she was always telling me that the ghost was in her playhouse in the basement, or that the ghost was on the stairs, or that the ghost was standing in the corner. I would often tell the ghost that he was welcome to stay if he wanted to, but he was also welcome to go if that would make him happier.
It was still dark out and rainy. Once again, I mostly disregarded what she was saying, as she is birthday obsessed and has in the past made us sing Happy Birthday to Mickey Mouse, a bowl of fruit snacks, and the bathroom. So we sang and wished the ghost a happy birthday and went on with our lives. Later that day, out of pure curiosity, I looked up the obituary of the man who had died in our house. This demon lady literally got inches from my face. I see at the foot of my bed this almost demon-like lady in a white dress walking toward me.
Then I could move and it was over. The disembodied head of a woman floating above my bed at night. Lived in this dark, creepyish rental house from 4th-7th grade. Anyways, my sister who was a little bit younger than me would tell me about how she saw the disembodied head of a woman floating above my bed at night looking at me sleep.
Nothing really happened for months and I even forgot what my sister said about the disembodied head, until one night I was in a particularly deep sleep when I suddenly heard the blood-curdling scream of a woman right outside my ear. This is a brief account of an experience I had almost a year ago in the warehouse where I work alone. I work in a warehouse that my father downloadd.
It is in the middle of Mennonite country, with no neighbors for a half-mile around. Look out the window…you see cornfields and scraggly trees. Cell service? Forget about it. I work here alone, painting and preparing the front office portion for eventual functionality.
To get to the front office, you must go through a hallway from the main warehouse, into a secondary office, and then through another door into the front. The only thing that has ever made me uneasy about the building is the fact that all of the door locks are reversed. I was in the front office when I began to hear the thudding. I ignored it and continued to apply masking tape to the door I was working on. But this time, it was accompanied by a screeching sound.
Not loud, but audible. I was freaked out, but convinced myself that it was just a pissed off raccoon or squirrel that had found its way inside. I continued working, until I heard the slam.
The door to the secondary office had been open; it sounded like it had violently slammed shut. I peaked around the corner and saw that I was right… the secondary door was now closed. I tried to logic it through in my head that a strong draft had sucked it closed, although I knew there was no such draft. The thudding began again. Close this time. I froze, unsure of what was happening.
My eyes locked on the door handle, which began to turn. The door disengaged its latch and slowly swung open. Wider…wider…nothing there. Nothing visible, no air movement, just quiet. So quiet. The quiet was shattered when the screech came again.
This time, it was clearly human. Pained, angered, and emanating from the main warehouse. The door slammed. That entirely broke my frozen fearful state… I ran. I got into my car and drove until I was in cell range to call my father. Fast forward half an hour. My dad and I met up and drove back to the warehouse. I showed him the door that slammed, showing him that it was separated from both the front office and the main warehouse, so no draft could have closed it.
I told him about the thuds, the screeching, and the sudden quiet that overcame the building. He decided that we should check the main warehouse.
Emboldened by his presence, I led the way. Something you should know about this warehouse: It was formerly a furniture manufacturing place owned by a Mennonite farmer. They made handmade chairs, tables, etc. Because of all the cutting that went on, the floor is thickly coated with dust. We walked into the warehouse and saw nothing out of the ordinary. The dust was untouched, the doors were closed, windows were locked.
The only thing out of the ordinary was one of the hanging fluorescent light fixtures. It was hanging askew, and swaying slightly. He supported it while I climbed up and grabbed the swinging light. I looked on top of the light…. A single, fresh, inhumanly large hand-print. No footprints in the dust around the light, no signs of a presence. I climbed down and switched places with my father.
Next time, just go back to work. And then, as if to show its presence, the thud returned. The entire building felt like it moved. The heartbeat-like thud was then overlaid by the screech. The awful, awful screech. It felt it like was coming from the walls themselves. We ran. My father hired someone to finish my job and has since moved into the office. What actually happened? Nor do I ever care to know. What I do know is that there is something paranormal in that building and the man who sold it to us knew.
My grandma lives in a very beautiful old house in New Jersey. Now, my dad is a former marine of 12 years. But he refuses to be in the house alone. I have never seen the ghost myself, but of course this gives me the creeps.
He said he was startled by something and he realized he was actually INSIDE the ghost, as in he had walked straight through her. The ghost seemed startled too, and ran away. My grandma was holding one of them, just a little baby, when the ghost appeared.
She said that it was a woman, and it was holding a baby. He said he was absolutely positive something weird was going to happen, and he barely slept. She saw a face peering out of the window, even though nobody was home. It was that of a woman, just like what my grandma had seen. This happened to a friend of mine — she told me about it a year or so ago. Minji is in her late 20s, and works as an English tutor in South Korea. One evening, a few years ago, she was tutoring a high school boy.
They were up studying pretty late, and the buses stopped running. Being a long way from his house, the boy asked if he could crash on her floor overnight and get the first bus the next morning.
They went back to her one room apartment, and she got into the bed, while he laid a blanket out on the floor, and they both fell asleep. A few hours later, at maybe 2am, the boy wakes Minji up. Minji opens her eyes and looks up at him in disbelief.
Eventually, after several minutes of persuasion, the boy gets Minji to come with him to the restaurant. They leave the apartment and head out. I woke up in the middle of the night, and looked under your bed. The boy only saw him because he was lying on her floor, so had a clear view under the bed.
We arrived around mid afternoon, and it was winter in a holiday town, so the area was completely empty — no other cars on the street. When we left for the party I spent a moment deciding whether to pull the gate all the way closed.
I decided to shut it for security. Party was great, we got back to the house around We went inside, and decided to make a snack. We tried to calm ourselves down, but we had no cell reception and there was no one else around.
Over the next half hour or so, as we sat in the hallway paralysed with fear, we heard footsteps outside, and the back door being jimmied. We decided we had to leave, so we gathered everything up and got ready to make a break for the car.
Just as we were at the front door ready to leave, there was a huge bang in the back yard, and suddenly what sounded like hundreds of birds started screaming. As we reversed out the driveway we saw somebody running up the side of the house towards us. Music At Myrtles Plantation. When I was in eighth grade I went on a school trip that was called the Louisiana Tour. It was mostly going around to significant sights in south Louisiana.
One of the places we went was Myrtles Plantation, which is considered to be one of the most haunted places in the country. After I heard it a couple of times I started to look around for the source of the noise. So I asked my friends who were standing near me if they heard it, they said no. When I heard it again I said there is it again and that they must have heard it. They thought I was crazy. So I went back to looking around the room. She caught my eye and pointed at me and then at her ear with a questioning look.
I realized she was asking if I heard it too and I nodded. At this point the tour guide starts telling a story about a soldier who had died there and that he played the piano and multiple guests had reported hearing him playing in the night. I talked to the woman as we were all leaving the room and she had heard the exact same thing as me, but her husband and son had not heard it. Something In The Dresser. When I was younger, I had an imaginary friend who lived in this massive antique dresser.
It was something innocent like Peter or Patrick but I can still see him going white in the face. It got so bad that they had to move him out of his room before he managed to get back to normal. Margaret Tries To Adopt. When my son was about 3, he had an imaginary friend in his room who he used to talk to all the time.
We thought it was pretty cute. Then he started not wanting to go to bed and having really bad dreams. At some point we ended up asking a lot of questions about her. We had assumed she was a little girl, but apparently she was She lived in the wall and he stopped being friends with her because she wanted him to call her mummy her name was something like Margaret. She wanted him to come and live in the wall with her.
We eventually moved house, and he stopped talking about her. Funny thing is, when I was pregnant with him living in the same house I used to have dreams about a lady sitting at a dining table in our bedroom, except it was obviously a different era, and the room was not a bedroom at the time.
35 classic horror stories, free to download
The lady used to knit and make me listen to her giving me parenting advice, while her two 20ish year old sons sat at the table quietly.
Jim Reaches Out. They were really close, and one of the last things he wanted was to hold little me before he passed. His wish was filled, and some short time after that he was gone. Fast forward 7 years.
But my brother broke the rules and answered. At this point my dad is out of the washroom and is asking my brother to hand him the phone. He ignores him and keeps listening to whoever is speaking.
The look of shock my dad had is what I remember most about this. Pen Pals. The newsletter went out across the country and apparently into Canada. There was this guy named Mitchell that called my family up out of the blue because he had read my cancer survival story. He lived somewhere in Canada and claimed to be this big-time Christian and wanted to talk to me God and prayer.
My mom let him talk to me for whatever reason and the guy actually just wanted to talk to me about ALF. For some reason, my parents let him talk to me whenever he would call because they bought into his God stuff and liked how he sent me ALF crap. This went on and off for about a year until he asked me if I had ever heard of John Wayne Gacy. He told me who he was and that he had escaped him when Gacy tried kidnapping him when he was a kid.
Of course my parents freaked when I told them that and they changed numbers and called the police. Also, keep in mind Mitchell somehow had our mailing address and knew exactly where we lived.
We had plans on moving soon anyway though. Fast forward 10 years to about We live in a new house, a new state, everything unlisted. What did we get in the mail? Yes, you guessed it, a fucking ALF coloring book. Johnny Says Goodbye. Hard to say what qualifies as creepy. It could maybe be seen as heartwarming. My mom had three kids. Wholesome kid, great in school, active outside. When he was almost six, he was riding his bike and fell and hit his head on a rock.
He got up and said he felt fine. My mom found him the next morning in his bed when she tried to wake him up to get to kindergarten, one pupil dilated and the other not. She got him air-lifted to the nearest hospital.
Nick suddenly gets up from the table and goes to the door. But they lived close enough to call to one another to come out to talk at their respective street corners. So Nick goes out to the street corner while his mother receives a call from mine that Johnny was just declared dead in the hospital idle brain aneurism that was triggered by the fall.
I wish I could have met him. The Cat Lady. Weird one that happened to my sister a couple years ago. Background info: The uncle is old and starting to lose it. He rents out a basement suite and a nice lady lives downstairs. She cleans the house when she is there but he wanted my brother in law to come check on things and feed his old cat once in a while. My sister has cats and know they like to hide when they are dying so they are all worried and are looking everywhere for this cat.
In all rooms under the beds and everything. So my sister opens up the closet in the spare bedroom and is looking around stuff on the floor. Moves a couple of things and sees a set of feet on the ground in the closet, with clothes blocking anything above the feet. The feet have nicely painted toenails and look human, but she assumes it is a doll or something. They look in a few more places and all of the sudden the cat is in the middle of the living room just hanging out.
So they lock the deadbolt and leave. When they arrive my sister will only stay on the patio because she is scared, which makes him realize that this must be something serious. They go to get in the door, but the deadbolt is now unlocked and the handle is locked. Now he thinks there must be someone in there. At the door there is a fireplace so once he is in there he grabs the sharp poker stick from the fireplace tools and starts to sneak towards the closet.
He opens the closet and sees the same set of feet with painted toenails on the floor. He pokes it lightly with the fire stick and the toes scrunch up. Turns out she was friends with the basement tenant. When she became homeless the friend let her stay with her until she found out she was addicted to crack. Started leaving drugs around the house and had shady people coming into the house so she kicked her out.
Somehow she got a key to upstairs and had been staying there while the uncle was gone. Police were called and she was arrested. A Ted Bundy Encounter. It was near Halloween time when my friends and I were telling ghost stories. He apparently knew the place, since he had done a fair amount of rock climbing in the area.
So the two drove up the mouth of the canyon, got out of their cars and started hiking under just the light of the stars, since it was a new moon. He ignores the feeling and presses on. Under the trees, it was too dark to see just what this soft thing was, and the feeling came back stronger than ever. Years later, after being married for some time, they were watching an interview with the serial killer, Ted Bundy. In response to a question asking him to describe the time that he felt the closest to being caught, he explained about the night that he lured a girl into Provo Canyon, and had just killed her when he heard some people coming up the trail.
He explained how he hid in the trees just in time, only to watch some guy walk right into the body, and for some reason, just turn around and walk away.
Before my family and I moved to another state, my father went and visited the area to check on the progress of our new house which was being built. My father was there for a few days and was staying at some crappy Motel 6 in a shady area of town.
His room was the last room at the end of the hallway on the top floor. In the middle of the night on the last night he was in town he is woken by the phone ringing in his room.
He groggily answers. We are calling to make sure you lock your door and are safe. He decides to go double check that he locked the door. As he sits up in bed he notices that the door to his room is ajar.
Being spooked, he cautiously checks the room and finds that nothing is missing and no one else is in the room. He creeps to the door and peaks out. Sitting right outside his room on the window sill of the hallway window is his shaving kit. Creeped out of his mind, he quickly grabs it and locks the door. After the funeral, family and friends gathered at her house for a final celebration of her life. The gathering went late into the evening. My son, 3 at the time, needed to go to bed at that point.
I walked with him up the stairs to where he would sleep. The room that my mother-in-law passed away in was upstairs, and straight down the hallway as you reached the top of the landing. My son and I walked upstairs together, with me holding his hand. He was staring straight down the hall. I looked at him, then down the hall to an open doorway to a completely dark bedroom. He just stared, and would not move any further. The light.
100+ Ghost Stories To Read In The Dark
The light scares me. It scares me. I promptly picked him up and went back downstairs. To this day, the hairs still stand on the back of my neck when I think of it. When I was a child we would frequently get calls for a woman named Tanya. Those days seemed to have ended and we carried on, forgetting about the mysterious Tanya. I was driving home from work one afternoon and was greeted by a pretty grisly car wreck at the turn to my house — two cars had collided and one had wrapped itself around the signage pole that had house numbers and directions on it, one of which was my house number.
Several days later we get a call from the police. They asked if Tanya was at this residence. Her car was found wrapped around a pole — down the street from my house — and she was nowhere to be found at the accident site. Demons On The Hunt. When I was younger my family was extremely poor and lived in a very old mobile home on some land my grandpa owned. This piece of land was in a very small town out in the middle of nowhere Texas and was covered in woods. The town itself was your typical small country town where football was king and there was nothing to do but get drunk or high on the weekend.
Now, our trailer was a two bedroom and my parents, always putting us kids ahead of themselves, slept in the living room on a fold out couch. My room was directly connected to it and my sisters room was down a hallway past the kitchen and bathroom at the other end of the trailer. One night, after everyone had gone to bed, my dad is woken up by a feeling that there is someone in the room.
He looks around a bit and sees a large male figure sitting in the easy chair just feet from the bed.
My dad quickly flipped on the light switch next to his bed and saw it was a neighbor from down the road named Carter. Carter was known to be a frequent drug user and was often in trouble with the law because of this. My dad asked him what the fuck he was doing here and told him to get out and he responded. The demons are chasing me and your house is the only safe one. I believe it was her anger that finally scared him off. He drove around for about an hour.
We called the police and it took them about that long to get out to us since the closest police station was about 20 or 30 minutes away. He finally brought it back and was arrested and taken to jail. He was deemed crazy and ended up locked in a mental institution.
We always thought it was him sending us a message. The calls stopped when I was about I later found out that it was around that time that Carter thought the best thing he could do for himself was soak himself in gasoline and set himself on fire. An Evil Little Shit. My dad used to work in a juvenile detention center in the Miami area in the early 70s. He said there was one inmate that reminded him a lot of a young Hannibal Lecter.
One day he started a riot in his block of cells, just by talking the other inmates into it. My dad and another guard were sent in to check it out an try to calm things down. Everybody in the block was going crazy, banging on the bars, howling and yelling at each other. Everybody except young Hannibal Lecter. He was standing still in the middle of his cell with his arms folded, smiling and muttering the same phrase over and over, quietly.
My dad tried to focus on what he was saying, and after a couple seconds he understood. Maybe he bribed another guard into getting it for him, or he saw it written on some form on his way between rooms or something.
The guy never called my dad, in fact he never really got any strange phone calls ever. But the level of determination this inmate must have had, all just to freak my dad out, was simply impressive. This happened about two years ago to me, but it was pretty unsettling. I had one shop, my best friend had another, and then the third was rented to another girl.
A man is on the other line asking me for something or other and is being really spacey. I am trying to talk to him, but there are long pauses before his answers and he is just being a little odd.
He really hated him. Then, it dawned on me. I no longer have the shop in that building, but still go in there every now and then to see my friend. An Impossible Voicemail. Around the time I was 19 I was deployed to Iraq. About halfway through my tour the red cross notified my unit that my father was terminally ill.
Within a week I was on a plane back to the states. Now my dad being ill was something I had grown used to. He was strong though, and I never expected to actually lose him. He was on oxygen and needed a wheelchair to go anywhere. Medication by the handfuls were needed every few hours. He gained weight from limited movement, developed diabetes, and had already beaten cancer once.
I reluctantly go back overseas. My deployment finishes, and he kept his promise. He gets worse, and goes back. I grab the phone, but he already hung up. So I call. I hung up and told my family the news. My sister and I stared at the answering machine.
We played the tape again, and again. I still get watery eyed thinking about it. The Christmas Party Guest. A few years ago I went to a Christmas party. That night my housemates went home earlier while I decided to stay and get in the Christmas spirit with a few other friends.
I ended up getting pretty hammered and got home around 3am. Instead of going straight to bed I got another beer inside then went out the back porch to have a smoke and look at the stars. I was outside a couple of minutes when I see the light go on in the kitchen, my housemate comes out and look at me out the back, I wave and generally look like a drunk idiot. I thought he was going to come out and get a debrief on the rest of the evening, as there were some good laughs we had not relevant to this story.
Anyway, he just gets a glass of water and goes to bed, I finish my smoke and beer and so do I. Gives me the willies every time I think about it.
True Ghost Stories by Hereward Carrington
A Sacred Moment Becomes Terrifying. At my lunch breaks, I liked to wander through the forest on the work property. One beautiful October day, I was admiring the autumn leaves when I saw a buck standing in front of me. I quietly and carefully stepped closer to get a better view. I was able to approach quite close: At that moment, though, the deer turned, and I felt all the hair on my arms rise. It must have had some disease that had blinded it and its blindness allowed me to get so close.
In the moment, though, it was terrifying and uncanny. Poomie And Punkie. When I was three or four we lived in a s ranch house my parents bought at a sheriff sale. Where the side door came into the house from the carport, there was a utility closet. It housed the hot water heater, a furnace, and a trap door down to the crawlspace below the house. The utility closet was in a short L-shaped hallway between the kitchen and the den which we used as a family room.
My sister would be at kindergarten all day, so it was just me and my mom until it was time to walk to the school to get her. I would play alone in the den while my mom was decorating cakes her side job in the kitchen.
My mom would hear me carrying on long conversations in the den with my toys. It used to annoy my mother because I never put it back down.
They were two little black boys that lived under the heater in the utility closet. They were both terrified of my dad, and they would disappear back into the closet when they would hear him coming. At night, since my dad was home, they were too afraid to come out.
So they would fall down into the crawlspace and crawl until they were under my bedroom. Sometimes they would whisper jokes to me through the floorboards, but mostly I would just hear them moving around in the gravel. It ended when my mom found me sitting in the utility closet with the door shut.
They saw him in our backyard trying to peek through the screen door. So they crawled into the furnace and turned to cinders and flew out through the chimney. The security desk received a frantic call during one of his night shifts. A guy was calling, all freaked out that his wife was in the bath and was not breathing. My brother and another security guard rushed upstairs to the room.
Sure enough, they found a woman in the tub, and she was unresponsive. My brother and the other guard got her out of the tub and attempted CPR. In the interim, during resuscitation attempts, the NYPD arrived. They told my brother to stop CPR because the lady was obviously dead and in their opinion, had been for a couple of hours. The husband was questioned extensively. He told law enforcement that he and his wife had a fight earlier in the evening.
He went out on his own and when he came back, his wife was in the bath. Privately, among all those present, the general consensus was that the husband had something to do with it but it could not be proven. A couple of weeks later, the room was again made available to guests, and of course the incident was not mentioned.
A woman who frequently stayed at the hotel, made a reservation for a week and was assigned to that room. She was the first person to stay in the room since the incident. She came to the front desk first thing in the morning, very upset, and with all of her luggage in tow. She said that she was canceling the rest of her reservation and that she would NEVER be staying in the hotel again. She said that she did not sleep the entire night and that the room was haunted.
No one at the hotel had mentioned to her what had previously transpired in the room. While my brother worked there, every guest who stayed in the room, called about strange goings on and many asked to be switched to another room.
People reported they heard the sound of water…like spilling over. Taking Care Of The Ranch. That night at about I grab binoculars and look through the windows. No people, no movement, nothing. The first time I went over with my. I went inside and nothing was out of order except a barstool was pulled out. Sure enough, we went over and nothing was out of order except the barstool.
So I go downstairs to check the breaker box and the second I open the breaker box, the lights go off upstairs. Curt Says Hello. Spring break of My buddies and I decided to camp out on an island at a local lake. One night as we are cooking food and drinking beer, a canoe floats by with one guy in it. Being in South Arkansas, we naturally assume that everyone is friendly and wants to hang out.
His name was Curt and he was super friendly but really seemed to be sad. That still haunts to this day. Everyone liked Curt and, noticing that it was getting dark and he had been drinking, we offered to let him stay with us that night.
He declined saying that he had to get to where he was going and he seemed very adamant about that. I asked where he was headed thinking maybe we could give him a ride on a jet ski or something. The next morning we woke up early to do some fishing. We obviously have no clue what he is talking about so he tells us a story about a young man in a canoe that disappeared last week.
Apparently divers found his body at the bottom of the lake two days before. The young mans name was Curt Clark.
This was so freaky for us that we all packed up and left camp that day. A Shadow Visits After Hours. I worked in a nursing home as an aide in a hospice unit. One night I had three patients trying to die and my job was to ensure that they were comfortable.
The girls that worked the floor with me at night were awesome. We would always try to make each other laugh and get through the night as best as we could. I was known for scaring girls. One night I was in the nurses station filling out a report since I had to give a pt Kent some narcotics when an aide rushed in.
As I walked over to the wall I stood where the light would have created my shadow and there was nothing. I laughed it off until the CNA started shrieking and I turned around and a shadow seemingly rose up the wall from the ground out of nothing.
A while later I had to do rounds. As I walked towards a patients room I heard three knocks on the door that lead outside to the patio by their room and I saw an older gentleman dressed in all black. When she and I returned to the door he was gone. Blood everywhere and the patient is on the floor bleeding.
He had tried to get up it appears and flopped around a bit in his blood trying to get up. The nurse lifted him back into the bed and we cleaned him up. There was nothing else we could do as he was DNR besides make sure he was comfortable. I went to my next patients room and bam…dead.
He had stopped breathing. I rushed to get the nurse and pulled his file. DNR also. We call the morgue and his family while I clean his body with an aide. A patients room door slammed shut and when I ran in she looked directly at me and took her last breath and died. Her eyes still staring directly at me. For some reason I remember her window being open and how odd it was. The nurse had followed me and saw exactly what I saw and heard the voice whisper as I did. She was coming around he corner and swore she saw the man and then me jump up and run after him and, like me, saw the patients room door slam shit before I could get in there.
Nice Guy Poltergeist. I was stuck in a bathroom in a creepy house my family was staying at. I was home alone. I heard the side door slam shut downstairs.
I thought my dad was home. I heard him walking on the hardwood. Through The kitchen. Down the hall. Stopped at the bottom of the stairs. The door swung open and slammed into the wall. I stepped into the hall. I looked around. Nobody at all. The Boy Who Lived. When I was 2 years old my uncle committed a double murder and suicide.
He was a meth head and had been taking money from my grandmother and finally one day she told him no more. That just happened to be the day I was at their house. He went to his room and brought out a shotgun. He shot my grandfather in his face. My grandmother ran and grabbed me. He shot her in the back. She dropped me and rolled over.
He pulled out a big knife and hit her in the neck with it. He the turned his attention to me. I remember this vividly. I was crying and he picked me up. Rocked me for a minute and sat me in my swing. He thing pointed the shotgun right at my face. Then all of the sudden he just stopped. Like something was fighting with him. Like physically prevented him from blowing me into a million parts. Next thing I know the gun is in his mouth and bang.
That is all I remember. When I told my dad he starts crying and tells me how I was just swinging in my swinger like someone was pushing me. I had forgotten about it until I was like 13 and all the sudden I remembered.
It fucked with my head for a while. I have a younger brother who had an imaginary friend when he was younger. He was also an avid sleep walker. When he was around three or four, he started talking to someone he called Friya Fry-uh. He described Friya as a dark skinned man with little clothes who loved to hunt in the wilderness.
Then one day he told me that Friya used to live nearby the house a long time ago. And then some white people came and burned him alive and killed his village. Not exactly something you expect to hear from a four year old.
I remember I would be in my room and hear him talking like he was having a conversation and when I would try to check on him, he would immediately become silent and turn his head as soon as I peeked around the corner.
Very unsettling. We ran upstairs and found the middle brother swearing that someone was shaking his bed violently. It was a bunk bed. My youngest brother was sound asleep. Ghosts, ghouls, monsters and all sorts of supernatural beings have fascinated humans for many years.
There have been countless horror stories written, or just told around a campfire to excite and scare. But why do we love scary stories so much? You can experience the physical and mental effects of fear, without being in any actual danger. Reading a ghost story lets you have fun with fear, instead of being afraid or stressed over the real things in your life.
In other words, scary stories are harmless but exciting, and that makes them fun! But to really learn from them, there are a few tips you should follow.
Read with a notebook. Read things twice. Read once for vocabulary, and a second time for understanding. This is a great way to read books and stories that are a bit higher than your current learning level. If you learn what a word means, you will understand the story better when you read it a second time, and be getting practice with the new words. Learn the cultural impact. Take the time to look up ways in which the stories you read have been reused in culture, or what the stories themselves can tell you about the culture it comes from.
For instance, the American idea of a ghost is a bit different from the Chinese. Do you know how? Ask questions. But you should also ask questions to understand better. Enjoy what you read. Once you learn enough about the words the story uses, you can get into the actual story. Below is a list of some of our favorite spooky stories in the English language. Some of the older stories might be a challenge, but since many are available to read for free, you can at least give them a try.
On his way home from a party, a schoolteacher meets with a terrifying headless horseman. This story has also been turned into a movie. Get the book here or read it free here. Jacobs Skill level: Another old story, this one is easier to understand, although you may need to look up some words that are not commonly used anymore.
James is a great author of short ghost and horror stories that might not have any blood or violence, but will still make you scared to turn off the lights in the dark. Get the book of short stories here. Edgar Allan Poe is very well known for his horror stories, many of which are about the darkness inside humans and not actual monsters. Horror story lovers should read at least one of his stories! The language is not too difficult but the writing style can be a little tough to get used to.
Four people come to Hill House hoping to get evidence that the house is haunted. Something is strange about the hotel, though, and it begins to affect the minds of everyone—with some terrible results. Get the book here.A great thing about Project Gutenberg is that the site offers book collections. Check out these alternative cases and sleeves for the 3rd-generation iPad Pro Once there, nothing exciting happened for the first 10 minutes or so, and they had tried everything the website or wherever they heard the story told them to do, with nothing resulting.
Thank god a neighbor saw everything and called the police or she probably would be dead. Very unsettling. The disembodied head of a woman floating above my bed at night. I promptly picked him up and went back downstairs. When he was around three or four, he started talking to someone he called Friya Fry-uh.
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