Ghost stories from Montana

The Locker That Chimes

Nights at the tri-county fire station in Junction Falls were long, especially when winter storms turned the roads to ice and the town slept under a blanket of white. I...

The Cinder Path

I was driving from the badlands of the Pine Ridge Reservation to catch a flight out of Rapid City, but I took the long way, cutting through the empty heart...

The Bone Chime

The summer I turned fourteen, the desert behind our trailer was my only escape. My father had been gone for three years, and my mother spent her nights staring at...

The Perpetual Unmaking

The first thing I noticed about the apartment at 12B Thornwood Lane was the smell—old dust and something faintly metallic, like the air after a lightning strike. It was the...

The Locked Blue Door

My aunt’s farmhouse sat on a hundred acres of dying corn and birch. I was sixteen when my parents sent me there for the summer, and I got the whole...

The Concrete Hum

The house on Hemlock Lane had a way of collecting sounds. Our new home, a sprawling Victorian with peeling paint and a yard that swallowed the sunlight, was no exception....

The Painted Room

I never believed in the supernatural as a child, not really. I loved ghost stories, sure, but they were just stories. Then we moved to the old farmhouse outside a...

The Tenant in the Walls

When my partner and I inherited our neighbor’s flat, we thought it was a stroke of luck. Mr. Ashworth, a retired clockmaker, had moved out after his cancer diagnosis, leaving...

The Sun-Watcher

The first thing I registered was the heat. Not the oppressive humidity of the August morning, but the sharp, focused beam of sunlight that had found its way through the...

The Static in the Walls

I’m Marlowe, and I’m seventeen. Last autumn, my family traded the cramped city apartment for a crumbling farmhouse on the edge of the Salt Flats, a place where the only...

The Last Lantern

Elara and her partner, Julian, were spending his final night before a long deployment at a coastal inn, the Sea Spray, near the harbor where he would catch a dawn...

The Salted Earth

I live in a small town called Grey Hollow, nestled in the folds of the Appalachians. The town was built on the bones of a failed silver mine, and the...

The Weight of the Midden

I never believed in ghosts, not really. Not until the night the house on Midden Lane decided to introduce itself. My name is Lena, and I’d moved into that crumbling...

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