#ghosts

The release wing door buzzed before it opened. There was no ceremony to it. No applause. No relief. Just a metal door that opened and closed without emotion. Daniel Danvers stood beside his car in the visitor lot, cigarette balanced between his fingers, smoke unraveling into the cloudy afternoon sky. The gravel shifted under his shoes when he adjusted his stance. He checked his phone again. No new messages from Alexander.

Summer in Colorado Springs was exceptionally hot that year. Jim, Jack, and their younger sisters, Judy and Jill, were spending their time carelessly, playing in the front yard. One day, their parents went out shopping, leaving the siblings with strict orders not to wander off and to watch the house. As the shopping took longer than expected, the boys grew restless and decided to go for a short walk in the woods. Their sisters followed them.

​Amelia loved everything new, mysterious, and unusual anything unconventional and alluring. She loved music that made adults react with disbelief. She dressed like a Goth; in short, she defied all conventions. Her best friend, Diana, shared her musical passions. The girls liked to experiment, not only with their image but also with new experiences.

I already know what you’re thinking. A gnome? Despite what the term I use might suggest, these creatures aren't rosy cheeked little bearded men with a pointy hats and quaint little tunics. As my friend would later find out, and as I'd feared for a long time, these beings are much stranger and far different from what is typically portrayed.

​Sara and Tom scrambled through the castle corridors, hoping to find Roy. They checked everywhere, but he was nowhere to be found. Suddenly, Tom spotted Roy between two suits of armor-huddled, trembling, and paralyzed with fear. ​"Man, why are you shaking like that?" Tom asked. ​"I... I... I saw her..." ​"Who did you see?" ​"The Mourner... I mean, the ghost of the Mourner. She was gliding down the hallway, "Man, why are you shaking like that?" Tom asked. ​"I... I... I saw her..."

“Well, that was ominous!” I said putting the can back on the shelf. “Totally! Maybe we are haunted!” Rudy said jokingly. “That would be kind of awesome!” I jokingly said back. Oh, how right we were, and we did not even know it yet. So, we finally called it a night and went to sleep. The next morning, I got up like usual and hopped into the shower. The water pressure in this house was nice and the water got hot, and it always left fresh fog on the mirrors. I turned off the water and stepped out…

Life had always been hectic: the constant push forward through time, the ever repeating change of scenery every time his family had to move. But there was always one place where life — for just a few short moments — managed to feel more like a calm ocean wave lapping onto shore than the tsunami it usually had been. The little oceanside town his parents always chose for their vacation, with its salty, warm breeze, the calming sound of the seagulls circling above, and the small, colorful fishing…

The Doorman

​His friends kept calling out, but Sara was nowhere to be found. They decided to split up. Suddenly, Tom spotted a curious exhibit: a large, double-sided rotating mirror. At first, he saw only his own reflection, but a moment later... he saw Sara. ​"Sara, what are you doing? You gave us a real scare. We were so worried about you. We were afraid something had happened." ​"I’m sorry, but this is just so... incredible," she replied. "Ah, women," Tom muttered under his breath.

​Sorrow Hill is a place shrouded in mystery. Tourists from all over England and the far corners of the world flock to the castle hill, drawn by the legend of a ghost that appears at the stroke of midnight. They hear screams, wailing, and the desperate sobbing of a woman. Some claim to have seen a figure dressed in a long, black mourning gown, gliding through the castle corridors. Fans of fortresses, spirits, and dark tales stand in long queues at the ticket office, eager for a glimpse of the…

Shadows risen from the darkness... Moonless Night follows the shadows like a plague. Silver bells, Darkness shadows, and Endless stars... Into the Darkness is where it starts... Into the Darkness, opal stars and golden moons arise. Followed by screams in the dead of night... Lovely and Afraid with haunted eyes of emerald shade... Would you walk alone into the Darkness of night? To find yourself and the endless night? To meet him in the middle of the night...

It was a dusty night, the sun had set over the horizon leaving the mesas scattered in a navy blue almost green shade. The cowboy had been traveling for weeks now, his horse tired and both were desperate for a peaceful night's sleep. Luckily for the pair there was a town just above the horizon, no lights left on but a faint peaceful glow surrounding a few of the houses. The cowboy clicked his tongue aiming his horse northwest toward the town. A small kick of spurs sent the horse trotting quickly…

I think it all started when I dreamt of my own death. I was only 10. This isn’t the first time I’ve died in a dream. We've all felt the jolt of a fall or a hit. Shaking us out of slumber and into the dark comfort of our bed.

Growing up, my family was like a bunch of nomads. We never settled in one place for long. Anytime my father’s job called for it, we would uproot our lives and head on to the next big thing. This meant ending friendships and enrolling in school time after time. It was frustrating having to repeatedly sever my ties with the friends I made, and the little nest I crafted for myself. But as a ten-year-old kid, who was I to complain?

Mystery of the Courtyard is a horror and emotional fanfiction by Joseph Arrington (JosephTheSnail), inspired by the Super Mario 64 urban legend “L is Real 2401.” During Bowser’s attack on Peach’s Castle, Luigi is trapped within the courtyard fountain and left behind as Mario continues his journey to save the princess. Presumed missing for decades, Luigi survives in silence until his body finally gives out, binding his spirit to the fountain itself.

By WedgeOverPotato "What do you seek? What do you hear? What do you fear? For fate is, my Witherin, inevitable to your undying likeness. That man's biggest creation is more of a brute than man itself. That we all clasp our hands together and prance around for mercy till the undying showers us with the pleasure of death, for it is we, whom shall not die." Witherin. For it is we, whom shall not die.

I woke up under the shade of a tree. I was tired and had a headache, and I didn't understand what was happening. There were police cars in front of me, and a large crowd of people were gathered around, but I still couldn't grasp what was going on. I walked a little way and saw my friend's car. I tried to grab the door handle, but I couldn't. I tried several times, and at first, I thought the car was locked, but then suddenly, I reached through the door.

Unfortunately, my brother is a bit of a loner. He likes to be alone most of the time and loves playing video games. He doesn't have many friends because he's not very social. I don't remember much about him, and his memories are almost forgotten, but there's one thing that my family and I all remember: Nan 102. I don't know how to explain it. It might sound silly and illogical, but, my brother, all I remember from that night and that incident is that he was playing a video game. He was playing…

You will dream of me. You will dream of me. You will dream of me. I will appear to you every night. And frighten you, and you will think I am just a ghost. I will appear in your worst nightmares. I will be your worst fear. I will be your fear. You will dream of me. You will dream of me. I am not just a ghost. I am not just a ghost. You will find me watching you every night.

I remember the day because nothing about it felt wrong at first, and that’s what makes it stay with me. The normal days are the ones that rot the deepest when something inside them isn’t right. My name is William Marston, and I teach children how to put their thoughts on paper, how to shape fear into something harmless, something you can hold at arm’s length and say, “this is only a drawing.” I believed that. I needed to believe that. So when I told them that morning to draw a monster—anything…