Ghost stories from United States

The Lantern’s Debt

Every autumn, my brother and I made the pilgrimage to the old ironworks in Cinder Hollow. It was a family tradition, a way to honor our late father, who had...

The Cobalt Floor

In the autumn of 2004, I found myself pacing the linoleum corridors of St. Jude’s Medical Center in Wichita, Kansas. My brother, Daniel, was undergoing a risky spinal fusion, and...

The Burnt Offering

The old textile mill had been converted into lofts five years ago, and we’d been among the first to move in. The exposed brick and iron beams gave it a...

The Crumple in the Cupboard

We were all smiles the day the moving truck groaned up our gravel driveway, its rusted underbelly scraping against loose stones. The house itself was a sprawling Victorian leftover, all...

The Ferryman’s Ledger

The summer I turned nineteen, I inherited the old Granite Point Lighthouse from my great-aunt Vera. It had been in the family for generations, but no one had lived there...

The Mannequin’s Gaze

The first time I remember anything truly strange happening was during the winter I turned nine. We had just moved into a drafty old farmhouse at the edge of town,...

The Iron Tug

In the autumn of 2004, my family moved into the upper floor of an old duplex in Lowell, a town known for its eerie mill history. My brother, Sam, and...

The Persistent Tenant

When I bought the old Hargrove place in the autumn of 2009, I knew it had a history. The realtor’s lips thinned as she mentioned the previous owner had passed...

The Marigold Grave

I am forty-two, and my two sons, Elias and Julian, are seventeen. We had come to rural Vermont because my father, Harold, had suffered a stroke and lay in a...

The Lantern That Watched

Mara had always prided herself on her rationality. A scientist by training, she sought natural explanations for everything. When she moved into the old farmhouse on the edge of the...

The Hum of the Mound

The house had a way of breathing that I never quite got used to. It stood on the highest ridge in Greer County, a lonely sentinel against the sky, as...

The Constant Draft

I’m not much of a writer, and I tend to ramble, so bear with me. I’m seventeen, and everything I’m about to tell you is true, as far as I...

The Cobalt Room

The house on Leeward Lane was a two-story Victorian with a peeling white facade and a porch that sagged like a tired spine. My wife, Clara, and I bought it...

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⚡ WILLOW LIVE
Listening for whispers in the dark...
Real-Time Whispers Stream
REAL-TIME

Listening to the woods...