Ghost stories from United States

The Pale Custodian

I was eight when the house on Bramblewick Lane chose us. It wasn’t the house, really, but the land it sat on—an acre of gnarled oaks and a pond that...

The Static Bloom

The year was 1988, and the salt-laced air of Monterey did little to cool Elias’s burgeoning desperation. Laid off from the coastal engineering firm, his days had bled into a...

The Loom in the Attic

In the autumn of 1967, the Hartwell family settled into a sprawling Victorian house in the outskirts of Duluth, Minnesota. The house was a fixer-upper, with peeling wallpaper, creaking floorboards,...

The Silent Turn

I never believed in haunted objects until the day my sister came screaming out of her room, clutching a mask that seemed to shift in her hands. It was a...

The Hollow Hearth

I remember the summer I turned twelve, when the heat made everything feel slow and sticky. My friend Chloe and I were bored of the same old games, so when...

The Salt Famine

The night the power grid collapsed was the same night Mara’s tongue turned to desert. She blamed the cheap instant noodles she’d been living on, the ones that promised flavor...

The Night the Lamp Flickered

June 2012. A small, isolated research station in the Alaskan tundra, thirty miles from the nearest town. I’m a glaciologist, not a paranormal investigator, and I’ve always prided myself on...

The Lantern in the Library

The summer before my junior year, my cousin Maya turned seventeen, and my aunt threw her a lavish birthday weekend at our family’s lakeside cabin. The last night, after the...

The Light in the Silo

It has been forty years since that autumn evening in the fall of 1983, yet I can still recall every detail with the stark clarity of a photograph developing in...

The Grain of the Pine

In the autumn of my fifteenth year, my family moved into a house that had sat empty for nearly a decade. The previous owners had left in haste, leaving behind...

The Bone Chandelier

In the autumn of 2014, I moved into a Victorian house in the outskirts of a small town called Hollowbrook. The house was a inheritance from an estranged great-aunt, and...

The Copper Key

I never believed in ghosts, not really. My name is Elias, and like most people, I thought the dead stayed dead. But then I moved into my great-aunt’s house in...

The Cull in the Corners

The summer I turned seventeen, my parents uprooted us from the flat Texas plains to the damp, forested hills of upstate New York. They’d bought a fixer-upper near the Canadian...

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