Ghost stories from United States

The Hollow Night

We had left our daughters, Mia and Chloe, and our son, Ethan, with my brother-in-law, Paul, and his wife, Sandra, for the night. We were off to a late party...

Read Story →

The Last Frame

The night before Halloween in the town of Millbrook was always a strange one. For as long as anyone could remember, ‘Cabbage Night’—as the locals called it—was a time when...

Read Story →

The Morning Visitor

In the summer of 2019, I was living with my mother in a small, weather-beaten house on the outskirts of a town called Stillwater. My father had passed away two...

Read Story →

The Porcelain Jester

In the summer of 1986, when I was nine, my parents and I went to stay with Great-Aunt Helga in her old farmhouse in rural Vermont. Helga was a reclusive...

Read Story →

The Unseen Grocer

The old house on Maple Street had a way of settling that felt like breathing. It creaked and groaned, but some sounds weren’t just settling. I grew up in that...

Read Story →

The Loom of Sorrow

I’m writing this from a motel room off Route 9, the kind with a flickering neon sign that buzzes like an angry hornet. My hands are still shaking. I need...

Read Story →

The New Apartment

It happened 4 years ago. My daughter just turned 2. We moved into an apartment. As soon we moved in my daughter just refused to even play in her room....

Read Story →

The Empty Couch

I was curled up in the worn armchair by the bay window, the last of the afternoon sun slanting across the pages of a dog-eared mystery. My portable CD player...

Read Story →

Elena had always treasured her grandmother’s collection of porcelain dolls. Each one was meticulously crafted, their glassy eyes and delicate features holding a certain haunting beauty that she found comforting....

Read Story →

The Caretaker’s Ledger

The first thing I noticed about the house on Hemlock Lane was the way the porch light flickered, as if it were breathing. We’d moved in three weeks ago, escaping...

Read Story →

The Tin That Counted

I’ve always prided myself on being a rational man. No creaking floorboard, no drafty hallway, no midnight thump has ever made me doubt the solidity of the world. And so,...

Read Story →

The Siren’s House

In the autumn of 1963, I was nine, living in a small town called Millbrook, nestled between endless cornfields and a river that never froze. My family had moved into...

Read Story →

The Sixth Lamp

The invitation had promised an authentic night in the old Meridian Tuberculosis Sanatorium, a sprawling, crumbling complex abandoned since the 1930s. A ‘Midnight Vigil,’ they called it, for the curious...

Read Story →

The Serpent’s Gate

The gate stood at the end of Blackwood Lane, a rusted iron relic that had once been a magnificent work of art, now choked with ivy and sorrow. Two stone...

Read Story →

The Unseen Presence

In the late afternoon light of a small coastal town, a young woman named Clara found herself living in a charming old home. It was a two-story structure with a...

Read Story →

Mysteries of Pine Hollow Road

In the small town of Maplewood, there lies a winding road known as Pine Hollow. Nestled on the outskirts, it leads to the sprawling Evergreen Park, a haven for families...

Read Story →

The Unseen Boarder

In the damp autumn of 1973, I was stationed at the Naval Submarine Base in Groton, Connecticut, and rented a rambling Victorian house on a quiet, maple-lined street. The place...

Read Story →

The Last Visit in a Dream

My uncle came to live with us after his health began to fail. He had no one else nearby, and I had always felt a special bond with him, stronger...

Read Story →

The Embers of Blackwood Creek

The old logging road, barely more than a scar on the face of the Blackwood Forest, was known only as ‘The Burn.’ Locals in the sleepy, forgotten town of Havenwood...

Read Story →

The Static Bloom

The salt spray of the Chesapeake had long since leached into the very bones of the Victorian house Elias rented on the outskirts of Hampton. It was a relic, all...

Read Story →

The Hollow Kiln

The town of Ashburn lay nestled in a valley, and its pride was the old Calderwood Furnace, a brick-and-iron behemoth built in the 1890s to burn the dead. It had...

Read Story →

The Hollow Fence

The sickly sweet smell of rotting leaves and damp earth clung to the air as Maya pedaled her bike along the gravel path that wound through the Hartwell Preserve. It...

Read Story →

The Unseen Weight

In the autumn of 1972, I was a civilian technician at the Naval Air Station in Pensacola, Florida, living in a sprawling, two-story Victorian house that had been converted into...

Read Story →

The Blue Sedan’s Promise

Five years ago, my grandmother, Edith, came to live with us. She was always my favorite relative, the one who taught me to appreciate the smell of rain on pavement...

Read Story →