Ghost stories from Apparitions

The Constant Hum

Ever since my brother Daniel passed, the house on Maple Street has felt wrong. It’s not the creaking floorboards or the drafts that worry me; it’s the silence that isn’t...

Read Story →

The Stairwell’s Ledger

The old Victorian house on Cedar Lane had always creaked at night, but for the past three weeks, the sounds had become more deliberate. Every time I passed the stairwell,...

Read Story →

The Last Tenant of Mulberry House

I was sixteen when my mother’s second husband, Marcus, decided we needed to move back to his hometown to care for his aging grandmother, Eleanor. We left our cramped apartment...

Read Story →

The Second Visit

It had been nearly four months since I first saw the crawling girl. I had almost convinced myself she was a product of a sleepless night, a trick of the...

Read Story →

The Wilted Crown

The air in my grandmother’s house always tasted of dust and dried lavender, a sweetness that clung to the back of the throat like a lie. I’d been back for...

Read Story →

The Sibilant Threshold

My name is Elara, and I’ve lived in the Atwood Flats for five years now. It’s a converted textile mill, all exposed brick and industrial-chic, but the charm wears thin...

Read Story →

The Lantern’s Vigil

The house on Birchwood Lane was our first real home, a two-story Victorian with a wraparound porch and a yard that sloped down to a creek. We’d moved there in...

Read Story →

The Dust Settles

My great-aunt Edna had a sixth sense for the spectral, or so the family whispered. She’d never stay in one house longer than a year, always citing ‘the draft’ or...

Read Story →

The Cartographer’s Knuckle

It was a Tuesday, or maybe a Wednesday, when the knocking started. I’d just moved into the attic apartment of a crumbling Victorian on the edge of the city, a...

Read Story →

The Carpet’s Edge

Ava and I have always shared a strange bond. It’s not something we talk about, but we both know. When I wake with a headache, I find her nursing the...

Read Story →

The Swaying Ornaments

Elena had always been wary of the old house on Cedar Lane, but she’d lived there her whole life, ever since her parents inherited it from her grandmother. The creaks...

Read Story →

The Porcelain Keeper

I never believed in inherited curses, not until the summer we moved into the old Harlow house. My grandmother on my mother’s side had been a ‘seer,’ as the family...

Read Story →

The Old Man

This is my first experience and my first story so it might not be as good as some. I am very scared of ghosts and have never thought they were...

Read Story →

The Gaze at the Foot of the Bed

Every visit to my childhood home brings a fresh unease, but this time the unease had a shape and a weight that pressed against my chest like a cold stone....

Read Story →

The Poltergeist of Quarters 14B

The first time I noticed something was wrong was on a Tuesday. I had just moved into the old military housing on the outskirts of Fort Meridian with my husband,...

Read Story →

The Lantern’s Gaze

The summer heat clung to the walls of my flat like a second skin, and the ceiling fan only stirred the thick air into a sluggish swirl. I sat at...

Read Story →

The Mirror’s Countdown

My wife and I had just finished scrubbing the last of our faded affirmations off the bathroom mirror, leaving only the bold red countdown to our move to the coast....

Read Story →

The Red Note

I was seventeen, living in a rented bungalow on the edge of town with my mom and her new husband, Gerald. The place had a strange smell, like old paper...

Read Story →

The Locket’s Jingle

I moved out of my mother’s house when I was twenty-two, but I never really left my old room. Every time I visit, I sleep in the same twin bed,...

Read Story →

The Cinder Ledger

I had carried the remnants of a stranger’s life into my dorm room, a charred shoebox containing a diary and a porcelain doll whose face was cracked like a spiderweb....

Read Story →

The Clockwork Doll’s Reckoning

My grandmother left me the house in the hollows of Vermont, a place where the pines grew so thick they seemed to swallow the sky. I’d spent summers there as...

Read Story →

The Indented Cushion

I never felt at ease in my sister-in-law’s house, a sprawling Victorian relic on the outskirts of Millbrook. The air was always a few degrees colder than the rest of...

Read Story →

The Ash-Wreathed Visitor

I was sixteen, lying in my narrow bed in the attic room of my aunt’s old farmhouse. The room had a single dormer window that faced the barn, and the...

Read Story →

The Humming Wire

The first sign was the flicker. Not the dramatic sputter of a dying bulb, but a steady, rhythmic pulse, like a heartbeat in the stairwell. I was halfway through a...

Read Story →