Ghost stories from Medium

The Weight on My Chest

I woke suddenly in the darkness, my lungs straining for air that wouldn’t come. My first thought was of my dog, a large fellow who sometimes stretched out across me...

The Spectral Roundup

I moved into the converted barn loft on the outskirts of Cinder Hollow, hoping for a quiet place to write my novel. The landlord had mentioned ‘quirky vibrations,’ but I...

The Weight of the Unseen

The old lighthouse keeper, Silas, had always been a solitary man. His only companions were the gulls, the ceaseless roar of the ocean, and the creaking timbers of the ancient...

The Weight of Stillness

The motel room smelled of bleach and stale cigarettes, a scent that clung to the cheap floral curtains and the worn carpet. I’d checked in late, exhausted from a long...

The Weight of the Down

I never believed in the old house on Wrenwood Lane, not really. The town had whispered about it for generations, but I chalked that up to small-town boredom. When I...

The Pale Weave

The whistle of the freight train at 3 a.m. was the only lullaby I knew. My name is Delia Marsh, and I was born in a rust-bucket town called Hollow...

The Glistening Wound

I’ve always been able to see the dead. Not hear them, not feel them, just see them, like smudges on the air. But when we moved into the creaking old...

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