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Ghosts and Spirits

Last night, I snuck past my dad's house. He almost caught me

Last night, I snuck past my dad’s house. He almost caught me

A bit of context: My father left my mother not long after I was born. He was a selfish and incredulous man, driven by his own will and desires. Whether I’m his only child, we don’t know, but we’re sceptical that I’m not. I would visit him as a child […]

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Hotel Morte the convention

Hotel Morte – The Convention

Greetings friends and horror aficionados. Thank you for joining me for the second story from the terror-filled annals of the Hotel Morte. I imagine you have questions following the first instalment, in which I described the premature demise of Mr Hillman in all its gory details. Hopefully I will be

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Hotel Morte the unwanted guest

Hotel Morte – The Unwanted Guest

No doubt all of you horror aficionados will be familiar with the world’s most famous (or perhaps infamous) spooky hotels. Whether it’s an old establishment harbouring restless spirits or a run-down hostel that has been the scene of violent deaths, there is sometime which draws us to these macabre venues.

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My baby wont stop screaming

My Baby Won’t Stop Screaming

The doctors told me it was normal. Sometimes, babies just cry. After over a week, I’m telling you now…this is not normal. My baby isn’t crying—he’s screaming. Constantly, through the endless days and everlasting nights, and I’ve tried every tidbit of parental wisdom anyone has granted me to help him:

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The red phone box

The Red Phone Box

Those of a certain age who grew up in the UK will remember the old-style, red phone boxes, emblazoned with the Royal Crown and with the motif ‘Telephone’ written above their glass panelled swing doors. In fact, you’ve probably seen photographs of these booths which are regarded as quintessentially British,

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Windows

Windows

Tim hadn’t been to the town he was born in in years. His parents moved away from the small town in the Midwest when Tim was very young, after his father got a job offer at a major law firm in Chicago. Tim was sure proud of that man. He

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The backroads witches and honey traps

The Backroads: Witches & Honey Traps

JESSE:[a small fire crackles nearby over the clacking of a keyboard][paranoid] Hey again,I’m glad the last update got out before everything fell apart. Please, you’re our only hope. I never made it home… We are not safe, and it’s not just me anymore, I’ve brought my entire family to hell,

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Night terrors

Night Terrors

“I saw him again last night.”“Who?”“The Man”.“Oh yeah,” James chuckled. “Same.”“Oh really?” I nervously giggled in response. “What did you see?”“Just the usual, he was just having a good look round, not doing anyone any harm.”This had become a running joke between James and I ever since we moved in

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The haunted toy car of anamosa

The Haunted Toy Car of Anamosa

In December of 2002, I visited an orphanage in Anamosa, Iowa. I visited this orphanage because Irene Walters, the orphan keeper, indicated that there was something amiss with a child in her care. I am not an expert on children, but I am well versed in demonology and the paranormal,

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The haunted candle of Cloutierville

The Haunted Candle of Cloutierville

In August of 2013, I visited the small town of Cloutierville, Louisiana, to investigate the cellar of a small, abandoned farmhouse. I was drawn to this farmhouse because, in 1932, a woman was murdered here, and in 1933, her husband mysteriously vanished. While this situation alone was not of particular

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Composer of the unknown

Composer of the Unknown

A mild night in the New England countryside. An empty field with an omnipresence of untrimmed grass and wild weeds left to grow unabated. The field is surrounded by a lumbering audience of trees. The moon casts its glows of judgment, the dim light graciously cast is swallowed by a

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A face in the dark

A Face In The Dark

It was a breezy September evening. The yellow glow of street lights reflected off the rain-slickened sidewalk. I was making my way back from volleyball practice. I usually took the bus, but I ended up missing it that day and didn’t feel like waiting another twenty minutes for the next

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The door

The Door

In the weak light of the porch lamp, the door stood illuminated. The wood was splintering and the gray paint was flaking heavily. At eye level there were patches of paint missing, showing where years’ worth of knuckles had rapped against the wood. To the left of the door, encased

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The windwhisper

The Windwhisper

There was once a story my mother used to tell me, in hopes I wouldn’t turn out like my father. “Treat your children right, Tommy or the Windwhisper will come to punish you.” A boogeyman from my childhood, something I thought was just a myth, turned out to be quite

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