Ghost stories from Australia

The Gorse Man

The summer I turned twelve, we moved to a place called Holloway Fen, a low, damp valley that smelled of peat and rotting reeds. Our cottage was a squat, brick...

Read Story →

The Sepia Photograph

I have never believed in the supernatural. To me, the world is a place of cold logic, cause and effect, and the occasional malfunctioning light bulb. I live in Millbrook,...

Read Story →

The Third Shelf

I was halfway through a late-night documentary about deep-sea trenches when the hairs on my arms stood up. It wasn’t the cold; the apartment’s ancient radiator wheezed out uneven heat....

Read Story →

The Ember Child

The apartment complex on Marigold Lane had replaced the old Harrow House, which had burned to the ground in the summer of ’79. The fire had been deemed an accident,...

Read Story →

The Third Floor

The house sat on a bluff above the Oregon coast, a rust-bitten A-frame that had weathered a hundred storms. I was there with my boyfriend, Marcus, and his family—his parents,...

Read Story →

The Static Between Reflections

The night was thick with humidity, pressing against the windows of my basement apartment like a damp hand. I lay on the worn couch, the glow of the television washing...

Read Story →

The Gardener’s Vigil

In the quiet outskirts of Toowoomba, where the eucalyptus trees line the streets like silent sentinels, I often found solace in the dead of night. The air was crisp, carrying...

Read Story →

The Rusted Sill

Maya’s birthday sleepover was supposed to be a simple escape from the monotony of our small town. We were five girls, crammed into her attic bedroom, which was more of...

Read Story →

The Night the House Learned Our Names

The air in the guest room was thick with the smell of old dust and the faint tang of mothballs. My friend Maya had chosen this house for her sixteenth...

Read Story →

The Inverted Slumber

I’m Leo, and I’m fourteen. About three months ago, I decided to switch ends of my bed, just for a change. Normally, my head faced the window, but that night...

Read Story →

The Last Carton of Reds

The rain had been falling for three days straight, turning the streets of Millbrook into dark mirrors that reflected the sickly yellow glow of the streetlamps. My mother, Agnes, sat...

Read Story →

The Night of Surprises

It was Clara’s birthday, and she had invited her closest friends over for a night filled with fun. The group included Lily, Maya, and Zoe. They spent the evening laughing,...

Read Story →

The Constant Catalog

I first noticed them in the winter I turned seven, standing at the edge of the frozen lake behind our cabin. They were not ghosts, not exactly. They were more...

Read Story →

The Door at the End of the Hall

The old house on Bramble Lane had always been known for its creaks and groans, but tonight, they seemed to have a purpose. Eleanor, a night-shift nurse, had just returned...

Read Story →

The Ceiling Light’s Rhythm

In the sweltering heat of a Queensland summer, I lay in my rented flat above a closed bakery, the ceiling fan stirring air thick with flour and dust. My name...

Read Story →

The Hush of Static

At five, I learned the language of silence. It lived in the static between radio stations, a soft, crackling whisper that seemed to breathe. My grandmother called it ‘the hum,’...

Read Story →

The Crooked Gate

The last time I saw Aunt June, she was standing at the kitchen window, her hand pressed against the glass as if trying to touch something beyond. I was leaving...

Read Story →

The Third Player

Hey! This just happened a few days back (20/01/25) and having my brother as a witness makes things a bit easier. We like bushwalking so we go up behind the...

Read Story →

The Locked Altar

In the autumn of 1982, when I was eight, my mother ran the only diner in the dusty town of Morrow, nestled in the shadow of the pine-clad hills. Every...

Read Story →

A Traffic Controller’s Ghost Story Part 4

I’d returned back to work after my week break, where I felt the ghost of that little girl in that abandoned boneyard, and for the past few weeks everything being...

Read Story →

The Mustard Seed at the Water’s Edge

The afternoon sun hung low, casting long shadows across the cracked asphalt of the old mill road. I’d been back in town for three months, ever since my aunt passed...

Read Story →

The Little Girl’s Ghost

I decided to take some time away from traffic controlling with my best friend, whose name I am changing over to Heather. Heather and I have a platonic relationship. She’s...

Read Story →

I Think My Dead Grandmother Is Haunting Us!

Just for reference the ages in this story are from the time this happened, not current ages. This started when me (30F), my husband (31M), my sister-in-law (26F), her husband...

Read Story →