Ghost stories from United States

The Ember Room

The heat was a physical weight, pressing down on the tin roof of the old cannery that HPI had converted into their base of operations. Inside, the air was thick...

The Porcelain Face

I was sixteen the summer we moved to the old farmhouse on Foxglove Lane. My parents had inherited it from a distant aunt, and they saw it as a fresh...

The Lantern in the Glass

I swear on my mother’s grave that everything I’m about to tell you happened exactly as I describe it. No embellishments, no tricks of the mind. It was a Tuesday,...

We Meet Again

My name is Justin and I have been in my brand new house for almost 5 years now and I still remember what I saw and to this day it...

The Gravel in Her Throat

My daughter Mira had always been sensitive to things that others brushed off as noise. At twelve, she carried a battered voice recorder everywhere, claiming she could coax words out...

The Hollow Wall

I was twelve when I first noticed the scratching. It came from inside the wall behind my bed, a faint, rhythmic sound like a fingernail dragging across plaster. My stepfather,...

The Bone Flute Tune

The summer I turned twelve, my family moved into a house that my great-aunt had left to my mother in her will. It was a sprawling, three-story Victorian in the...

The Cradle of Ash

My aunt Cora, my cousin Tess, and I rented a converted lighthouse on a stormy stretch of coastline for the weekend. The lighthouse, named ‘The Sentinel,’ stood on a rocky...

The Hollow Gate

It was a late October evening when my daughter Maya and I settled onto the worn couch in our farmhouse, a thick quilt draped over our legs. The television flickered...

Strange Occurence

This is the second time I have had an experience like the one I am about to tell. Strange things seem to happen around or close to my birthday. Yesterday,...

The Grapevine Sentinel

The stalks were tall and dry, rustling in the October wind like the whispers of a hundred thousand insects. That was the first thing I noticed about the farmhouse Aunt...

The Crooked Row

The Crooked Row When I first met Mara, she was selling peaches from a wooden crate at the edge of a farm market that stretched like a patchwork quilt across...

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