The Amethyst Lantern
My grandfather’s farmhouse sat at the end of a gravel road that wound through acres of corn, a place where the only sounds at night were the wind and the...
My grandfather’s farmhouse sat at the end of a gravel road that wound through acres of corn, a place where the only sounds at night were the wind and the...
I can’t remember exactly how old I was, but I was roughly around 11-13 years old. We’d always had pets growing up from mice to hamsters, chickens and later on...
I never thought I’d have to say goodbye to them both in the same week. My two German Shepherds, Max and Ruby, had been my entire world for nearly a...
At seventeen, I first saw the dead, or rather, they saw me, though they never seemed to notice. I called them spectres, not ghosts, because they appeared and vanished without...
I’m Elara, and I live in a converted Victorian schoolhouse that’s been split into three apartments. Mine is the top floor, a long corridor with a bedroom at each end...
The winter after our uncle drowned, the house on Maple Street felt like a held breath. My mother moved through rooms with the silence of a ghost, and my father...
Maya’s grandmother passed in the upstairs hallway of their old New England farmhouse, the one with the wide pine floors and the storm windows that rattled in the wind. The...
At thirteen, I thought I understood fear—the dark, the creaks of an old house, the dread of a nightmare that felt too real. But nothing prepared me for the night...
The farmhouse had been in our family for generations, but something was always off about it. The land around it was too quiet, the trees too old, and the well...
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...
I moved into the old farmhouse on Larkspur Lane when I was seven, and now at twenty-two, I still feel the weight of its silence pressing against my eardrums. The...
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...
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...
Listening to the woods...
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