The Old Wardrobe in My Room

March 16, 2026

by Dolly

1 min read

Story Premise 1 min read (135 words)

"My home feels strange sometimes. It isn’t very old, but my bedroom holds an antique wardrobe that once belonged to my grandmother. We think that might be the reason for the odd things that happen. Last winter, my cousin stayed the night. I fell asleep early, but she was still awake and decided to draw. […]"

My home feels strange sometimes. It isn’t very old, but my bedroom holds an antique wardrobe that once belonged to my grandmother. We think that might be the reason for the odd things that happen.

Last winter, my cousin stayed the night. I fell asleep early, but she was still awake and decided to draw. Around two in the morning, she clearly heard the sound of someone pacing quickly down the hall and into the kitchen, followed by a cabinet door shutting firmly. Thinking it was my father, she went to check. The kitchen was empty and the cabinet was closed.

I believe her completely. She is an honest person. I have also been alone in the house and heard footsteps from the floor above when I knew for certain no one else was there.

Related Horror Movies to Watch

Le Foto Di Gioia

1980

Ghost App

2017

Ada: Zombilerin Dügünü

2010

Please Don't Eat My Mother!

1970

Leave a Comment Cancel reply

You must be logged in to post a comment.

The Ceiling’s Linen

I was born with the veil, they say. Or maybe it was the moth-eaten farmhouse in the Texas Panhandle that first taught me to look where others wouldn’t. I don’t remember a time when the world wasn’t layered—the visible, familiar Kansas roll of wheat and dust, and the other, always at the edge, like a […]

The Grease-Stained Heirloom

My great-grandmother, Elara, was a woman of few words and many opinions. At eighty, she was a force of nature, her silence more commanding than any shout. But what she did best, what she was truly famous for, was her biscuits and gravy. The recipe, if you could call it that, was passed down through […]

The Sixth Mooring

The town of Greyharbor was built around water. Its lifeblood flowed through the salt-scoured channel people called the Narrows, a serpentine passage between the mainland and a cluster of granite islands that broke the ocean’s fury. Among them was Gull Rock, a treeless hump of stone and peat, notorious among locals not for its gulls […]

The Salt-Stained Ledger

The house on Bramblewick Rise was new to us, but already it felt old. Built ten years ago, it sat on a hill overlooking the town of Merrow, a settlement that had grown fat on the sea before the tide of industry turned. Our previous home, a crooked cottage by the harbor, had whispered of […]

The Stairs of Red Ledge

I was fifteen that summer, two years after we moved to Red Ledge, a housing development carved into a hillside in the foothills of the Blue Ridge. Our house was a split-level, with the front door opening onto a narrow landing and a short flight of stairs leading up to the living room. The neighbors […]

The Bleached Door

The house my grandfather built sat on a ridge above the flooded quarry, a half-hour’s drive from the nearest town. We had come up from the city, eager to see the new place. It was a two-story structure, but the main living space was on the second floor, with the garage and a rough concrete […]

The Leaning Floor

The day we moved in, I knew something was off. The floor in the living room tilted like a ship’s deck, and through the gaps in the warped boards, I could see the dark, damp earth beneath. The smell of rot and wet soil seeped up through the cracks, mingling with the musty air. My […]

The Hollow Man of Route 23

My father, Harold, has always been a man of the earth, a farmer turned mechanic, with calloused hands and a skepticism that bordered on stubbornness. He never believed in the supernatural, not even after my own encounter with those fading footprints in my grandmother’s attic. So when he called me last Tuesday, his voice low […]

The Game of Peek

It started on a Tuesday, the kind of Tuesday that feels like it’s been dragged through a swamp and left to dry. I was at my mother’s place, a rambling old farmhouse my great-grandfather built, with its crooked porch and windows that rattled in the wind. Since my daughter, Lily, was born, my mother and […]

The Sound on the Morning Water

Our family often spent summers on the lake. My aunt and uncle had a small houseboat that we would stay on, moored near a place called Pine Point. The point was known to have been home to an ancient people long ago, before settlers arrived. One night, when I was very young, we were all […]

The Cinder Compass

I never believed the brass-and-ash contraption my grandmother called a Cinder Compass could do anything but sit on her mantel, gathering dust. It was a disc of tarnished metal, etched with symbols that looked like burnt constellations, and a single needle that spun slowly whenever the wind shifted. As a kid, I’d poke it with […]

The Persistent Scent of Rain

Marta couldn’t remember the last time she had posted anything online, but that didn’t mean her life had been quiet. Far from it. The nightly intruder, the one that stood at the foot of her bed, had now brought a companion—a permanent one. This new presence was with her from dawn till dusk, following her […]