Ghost stories from Voices

The Carbon Monoxide Dreams

I never believed in ghosts until my Aunt Clara moved into that house on Bellamy Road. It wasn’t a haunted mansion or an old creaking farmhouse; it was a brand-new...

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The Unseen Listener

Milo had always been a night owl. At twenty-three, living alone in his late grandmother’s creaky Victorian house, he found solace in the quiet hours after midnight. The house was...

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The Third-Floor Nursery

I had spent thirty-two years in that house on Hemlock Street, and in all that time, I never saw a thing. My grandmother swore the attic breathed, my aunt claimed...

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The Glass-Eyed Man

I didn’t think much of it at first. The old farmhouse we rented had a way of playing tricks on your eyes, especially with all those dusty windows and the...

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The Clockwork Stain

The old house on Thornwood Avenue had a reputation, but I was a skeptic. I moved in because the rent was unbelievably low, and the landlord, a wiry man with...

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The Boiler Room Choir

My name is Elara, and I’m fifteen. I live in a converted schoolhouse on the edge of a town that’s mostly abandoned since the mill shut down. My mom, stepdad,...

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The Unraveling of Hattie Blackwood

Hattie Blackwood was six when she first overheard her mother on the phone, her voice thin as a spider’s thread. ‘She talks to the corners, Martha. Not like pretend friends....

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Psychics, Witches, And Ghosts. Oh My!

This was when I was like 7 or 8, it was about 9:30 at night and my mom and I were downstairs watching TV. My mom went to wake my...

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The Gown in the Static

In 2011, I took a position at a lakeside resort in the off-season, a sprawling lodge that had seen better decades. I met my future wife, Elara, there; she was...

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The Unpainted Circle

My grandfather built our house in 2015, a modest two-story in the foothills of the Appalachians. The land had been in our family for generations, but the house itself was...

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The Wall That Breathed

I was housesitting for my aunt while she took her six-year-old, Mia, to visit their grandmother upstate. Her old farmhouse, nestled at the end of a dirt road that seemed...

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The Tarot Reader’s Vengeance

Elara had always been sensitive to the unseen. Growing up in the fog-drenched town of Pemberton, she’d learned to live with the whispers of the dead, the cold spots in...

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The Lullaby of the Lost

My grandfather’s farmhouse stood at the edge of a vast, whispering wheat field that turned to silver under the moon. I was six, and my parents had sent me there...

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The Broken Chalk Line

I never believed in ghosts until the winter of my thirteenth year, when the old servant’s quarters of Blackwood Manor became my refuge from the rain. I had been sent...

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The Lantern’s Guests

When I was seven, my grandmother owned a crumbling lighthouse on a desolate stretch of coast. The keeper’s cottage, where we stayed, was cozy enough, but the outhouse, a rickety...

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