Ghost stories from Australia

The Lantern Room’s Last Turn

In the autumn of my sixteenth year, I found myself wedged behind the rusted door of the old lighthouse keeper’s quarters, my knees pressed against the damp wood. My friends—Mara,...

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The Sixth Pace

In my thirty-two years, I have never once laid eyes on a specter or a shade. I’ve always considered myself too grounded, too practical for such fancies. But there have...

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The Orchard Keeper’s Last Light

The old apple orchard had been in Clara’s family for generations, and it was there, under the gnarled branches of the ancient trees, that we gathered for my grandmother’s funeral....

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The Second-Floor Lamp

It was 1:47 AM when I stepped out onto the back porch of my single-story ranch, the porch light buzzing like a trapped insect. I was carrying the damp laundry...

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The Stitches in the Floorboards

The first time I noticed it, I was fifteen, on the cusp of a growth spurt that would leave me gangly and prone to knocking things over. I lived with...

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The Hollow Mile

Two years had passed since Elara lost Marcus to the tangled wreckage on Route 9, a stretch of old highway that snaked through the pine barrens. She had stopped listening...

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The Ledger of Static

I have always prided myself on being rational. As a forensic accountant, I deal in numbers, in evidence, in the cold hard truth of ledgers and bank statements. So when...

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The Hollow Window

In the autumn of 2019, I moved into a century-old house in the outskirts of Portland, Oregon. The house had a peculiar feature: a bedroom with a large arched window...

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The Bell at Cedar Hollow

The house at Cedar Hollow was a Victorian relic, its bones creaking with every gust of wind. My wife, Elena, and I had moved in three weeks prior, eager to...

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The Locked Wardrobe

It was a month after we moved into the old farmhouse that I came down with a stubborn fever. The doctor said it was a kidney infection, nothing too serious,...

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The Hollow Man at the Foot of the Bed

Every Friday, Maya and I hosted dinner for our closest friends, Lena and her boyfriend, Drew. This particular Friday in late October, the air outside had a bite to it,...

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The Last Visitor

My grandmother, Elena, had always been the heart of our family, her laughter echoing through every holiday gathering. When she passed, it was sudden, a stroke that took her in...

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The Undertaker’s Debt

Milo Voss had spent four decades refining the art of the final arrangement. His funeral parlor, ‘The Last Goodbye’, sat on the outskirts of a town that had long since...

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The Mannequin’s Invitation

The heat of late August clung to the walls of the old department store like a second skin. It had been closed for years, but the owner, a reclusive man...

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The Bar in the Dark

I must have been eleven or twelve when it happened, though the exact year has blurred with time. It was at my friend Elias’s house, a cramped two-story thing on...

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The Unfinished Prescription

The autumn of 2021 had settled over the town of Millbrook, and with it came the familiar rhythm of our visits to the Lakeside Medical Clinic. My daughter, Emily, had...

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The Settling of Hollow Pines

I never told anyone about the shaking. It started when I was seven, in the old farmhouse my parents rented on the edge of Blackwood. The house had a name—’Hollow...

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The Lantern in the Attic

I remember the day we moved into that house, a sprawling Victorian on the outskirts of a sleepy town in upstate New York. The real estate agent’s smile never reached...

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The Rot in the Shed

Our new home was a converted packing shed for a long-abandoned banana plantation. The air inside was thick with the ghosts of overripe fruit, a sweetness that had turned sour...

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The Pressure Points

The snow had fallen thick and silent over the small town of Ashford, blanketing the streets in a muffled hush. It was Christmas Eve, and the old Victorian house on...

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The Fourth Floor Archive

I woke to the sound of paper rustling, a dry, insistent whisper that seemed to come from the far corner of my dorm room. I sat up, heart thudding, and...

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The Sunlight Room

I haven’t set foot in that house for eight years, and I still can’t say with certainty what I believe. My family—six of us, not counting the cat—lived in a...

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The Crouching Figure

I’ve never been entirely sure what to make of it, but there are a few moments from my childhood that have stuck with me like splinters under the skin. They...

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The Glass Corridor

The Saltmarsh Rest Home sat on a rise above the tidal flats, its single-story sprawl shaped like a figure eight. The double loop enclosed two courtyards, and every internal wall...

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