The Late Show at Hollow Creek

June 23, 2026

by Tavares

3 min read

Story Premise 3 min read (424 words)

"I’d been in Oregon for barely a month, renting a ramshackle farmhouse outside the town of Hollow Creek. The place was a relic from the 1800s, with creaking floorboards and a wood stove that seemed to swallow light. The locals avoided it, saying a widow named Ethel had hanged herself in the barn when her […]"

I’d been in Oregon for barely a month, renting a ramshackle farmhouse outside the town of Hollow Creek. The place was a relic from the 1800s, with creaking floorboards and a wood stove that seemed to swallow light. The locals avoided it, saying a widow named Ethel had hanged herself in the barn when her lover, a traveling salesman, never returned. They swore her ghost would sabotage your belongings if you stayed up past midnight.

My friend Marcus, a bit of a skeptic, came over from the university to keep me company. We decided to test the legend. We turned off all the lights, lit a few candles, and camped out in the kitchen, eating stale chips and watching a grainy horror show on my laptop. The wind outside moaned through the eaves, but we laughed it off.

Around 11:30, the show cut to static. Then a low, guttural voice, unmistakably human, rasped, ‘You shouldn’t have come.’ Marcus froze, his eyes wide. ‘Did you hear that?’ he whispered. I thought it was a prank, so I searched the house, but there was no one. When I came back, Marcus was pointing at the far corner. ‘She’s standing there,’ he said, trembling. ‘Her neck’s broken.’ I saw nothing, but a cold draft hit me.

Then my mother’s portrait flew off the mantel. It had been my favorite of hers, taken before she died of cancer. The glass shattered, and the frame landed face down. My heart pounded. ‘Okay, this is real,’ I muttered. Marcus started sobbing, describing a withered figure with black eyes and a mouth stretched too wide. He said she was smiling.

The kitchen exploded into chaos. Pots flew from hooks, the fruit bowl overturned, and the wooden chairs scraped across the floor as if possessed. I grabbed Marcus, and we huddled beneath the table. The noise rang for what felt like an eternity, then silence. We peeked out—everything was scattered, but nothing was broken beyond the frame. A smell of lilacs filled the air, fading as quickly as it came.

We didn’t dare move. We sat in the dark, holding our breath, until dawn crept through the windows. Exhausted, we cleared the mess and stepped outside. The morning was serene, but we both knew something had been there. Marcus never spoke of it again. I moved out a week later, but sometimes, in the dead of night, I still hear that voice, and I wonder if it followed me here, waiting for a new story to haunt.

Related Horror Movies to Watch

Carl Panzram: The Spirit of Hatred and Vengeance

2011

Cult Hero

2023

Kible: Bitlisli Belkis

2026

Le zombi de Cap-Rouge

1990

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