#ghosts

It all started after moving into my new house. Yeah, that’s pretty cliché. Believe me, I know, but it’s what happened. I never experienced anything supernatural before and, though interested, I never really expected anything to happen to me. I was able to rent the house for pretty cheap. I didn’t think anything of it because it was old and not in the best of neighborhoods so I guessed I just got a good deal. After moving everything in, things were fine for a while.

How to summon Slender man: [WARNING] Do at your own risk, it is not suggested that you play. This game requires a few days of preparation so be warned. Supplies: - 2 Sheets of paper - Red pen - Red string/yarn - Scissors - Salt - 4 Candles - Lighter - Ziplock bag - Rock You are now about to begin the game. Make sure you don't have anything that has your name or a loved ones name on it in the bathroom. (i.e. bracelet, necklace)

This is a game where the participants get the chance to meet the twin they've never known in life. It's a simple game to play, but the repercussions can overwhelming. The twin is a reflection of who you really are, not who you pretend to be. If you're a genuinely good person your twin encounter will be pleasant and gratifying. But if you're a bad person, someone who bullies, lies, steals, cheats, manipulates or hurts other people, then your experience will be dark and painful.

It rained over the Rosenberg estate. A day's worth of packing luggage into the truck and, soon after it left, the clouds arrived. Inside of the several story house, little life was expressed as it once had. The antique clock ticked away, being the only thing making sound for the last three hours. Günther poured himself another shot of brandy, already finished with the bottle set at the mini bar. There was plenty more where it came from and he intended on finishing every last drop.

I hate my life. I just made some new friends at this stupid school, and now I have to move again because of my father’s stupid new job. We're moving to the other side of the country. I just wish we could stay in a town for more than a few months, but no. Every job just gets better and better, so we have to move. I’d been doing some research on the new town we were moving into. I’ll just say that there are some pretty messed up headlines for this place. Most of them about kids going insane, some…

[Author's note: The historical context of the time period has been altered than what actually happened in history due to the nature of the story being derived from another one of my projects.] August 19th, 1915 Corp. D.H. Griffin, 3rd Infantry Battalion, US Army

I was staying at a hotel in Chicago Illinois during a business trip and I was going to stay for the whole weekend. It was an older hotel, one that still used small keys rather than keycards to enter the rooms. I didn't mind, it seemed nice to get away from the onslaught of technology.

It started with a whisper faintly appearing on the wind. ‘Psst.’ Larineth glanced around the field she was in, and after not seeing anyone, she went back to her task: picking the most beautiful flowers she could find and laying them in a basket. Today was her birthday, and she had proudly told anyone that she met that she was turning nine years old today, and soon she would be an adult just like them. ‘Psst.’

4:23AM I didn't imagine it... I'm not fucking insane. My vision may have been distorted as a result of my excessive alcohol consumption, but I know what I saw. I know that it was real, I've been sat in a bath full of cold water for the past hour to try and shake the feeling of being covered in blood. Her blood. - 5 hours earlier -

We all have that one story, don't we? The one you grow up thinking about, but never actually grow the balls to tell anyone. Well this is my story. I don't know what I'm hoping to accomplish by telling you. Maybe I'm looking for someone to tell me that I'm not insane, or maybe once I put it on paper it will...Hell, I don't know. Just someone read this...just please.

I was on a business trip about a year ago and I had to drive from Denver to LA. It was a long drive and I was growing tired of the road, so I stopped at the Holiday Inn hotel that was nearby. I walked up to the desk and rung the bell. Just seconds later, a man came out from the back room. "Hello sir, my name is John Shelby," the man said, "How can I assist you?" "I'm looking for a room," I replied, "Are there any available?"

In 1998 I got a new teaching job in a new town. To save money I moved into a small house that was for rent. My roommate, Claire, was nice enough and the two of us got along easily. I moved in and found my room. While unpacking I came across an old framed photograph. Three men dressed as hospital orderlies were sitting together in the living room of the house. These three men had once lived in the house I was now renting with Claire. I didn't want to throw away the photograph, it didn't…

When I was very little, I met my very best friend. I was quite the fearless little child, so I wasn’t afraid of him. Though, I do think most little kids might’ve been. But, I was a boy, and by my logic that meant I wasn’t supposed to be scared of anything. Even if I was little, I was still a boy.

When I was young, I was always told the sounds I heard at night where made up. "It's just a figment of your imagination" my Father would always tell me. But every night, as I layed tiredly on my stomach, covered from head to toe in blankets, I could have sworn I heard what almost sounded like someone tapping their fingernails across the floor of the attic above my bedroom. Whenever I heard it, (usually around the first night of every month) it would begin ever so quietly. It'd always start out…

A dream of pale, flesh colored thread. I blinked back the darkness encompassing my vision, revealing again the dusty room we had been biding our time in. I must've fallen asleep, and the Sun was now dead, the window revealing night blanketed over the countryside. The moonlight casted shadows of corpses of forests and dead verdure, the sheets of snow reflecting the light with a strange sheen.

The noises had started around two in the morning, and while the house tended to make noises during such frightful snowstorms as this current one, these noises didn't sound normal for a shifting house. I lay awake in bed, not daring to move. The sounds were not scaring me, let me get that straight. I am not scared by much. No, the sounds were confusing me, that was all. I wasn't sure what to make of them. They seemed to be getting closer, so I silently got out of bed and picked up a knife I keep…

Open your closet, don’t turn on the light. Make sure you have one match with you. Step inside and close the door. If the lights outside of the closet are on, this will not work. Nor will it work if it is daylight. The only room you need is enough for slight mobility.

I can't stand when someone is walking behind me or simply that feeling of being watched or followed. It’s not pleasant at all, and personally for me, it’s unbearable. Let me begin by saying that the reason I practically hate it is due to the fact that's how I felt that during most of my childhood. All of the events that I will tell you actually happened so you probably will understand that for protection purposes (yourself, my family and mine) I will avoid providing any names or locations.…

When I was in high school, my friends and I had a peculiar pastime. Like any teenage delinquent, we liked to cause trouble. We weren’t vandals, we didn’t deal drugs, and we certainly didn’t bully kids in school. No, we liked to scare the living shit out of new parents by “hacking” their baby monitors. We were insufferable little punks who thought we were too good to get caught, and that our little acts of mischief would go unpunished. One night; however, I learned my lesson, and realized that I…

In 1347 the Black Plague had reached it’s peak. Across Europe thousands perished as this vile disease, festered in pestilence, showered the landscape with death. No one rich or poor, nor learned or simple, nor strong or weak were spare from it’s putrid touch. In the inner cities, so many had been wiped out that there wasn’t enough room to bury them all. Mass graves had become common as well as the unfortunate souls who had to collect the corpses. One such a man was Phillipe Deitre and this is…