Haunted Numbers Novels & Stories

Not being able to take my eyes off of it, I watch as it slowly sinks into the paper. I look around the room and a thought pops into my head. Speaking out loud, I ask, “Billy, are you there? If you are, please let me know somehow.” I have heard that on Halloween the veil between the worlds is thinnest. Maybe he is trying to contact me and let me know that he is watching over me.

Jake said, responding to Julia, "well, after I hypnotised Ryan, I must've accidentally exposed him to the forces of darkness. They sensed the book's magic in him and now he's being used like a conduit. " "A what now? " came Matt. "I think I've heard that before, " Julia cut in, "he's like the Annabelle doll in Annabelle !" She referenced the infamous doll which acted as a beacon to call upon the forces of evil-a conduit- as Julia explained. "Except now, it's not a doll but my hypnotised brother." "Well, if he's still under your hypnosis spell, " Julia added, "he'll eventually come back. " "And don't forget the beacon thing!"

They were midway across the path, in front of a cemetery when suddenly graves started opening. "What is going on?" Isabella asked, clutching onto Chris tightly. Chris was suddenly sweating so furiously but Ariel was cool and her face was blank and devoid of any emotions. They stood there watching six tombs open and six scary-looking ghosts walked out. Isabella was already whitish in appearance knowing who they are. Chris's hairs were all up and his eyes green, his normal sight nature. "GREETINGS TO THE SPECIAL ONE." One of them muttered. "GREETINGS TO THE LITTLE GODDESS." Another muttered.

Helena cooed, flicking her finger over the raised number on her own key. Camille nodded at Helena's statement and replied, "Well, I'm in room number three. It should be the first one we come across." I counted the doors as we passed, noting the differences in each one. While one door was a deep maroon shade with golden etching, another was a blinding shade of white. Confusion flashed across my face as I looked at the number thirteen, made from a golden metal, as it sat on the door. The white door was equally strange, sitting on a light blue plaque, the number nineteen shined brightly. As we approached the third door, I felt a frown form on my face. Helena let out a delicate laugh that echoed

The error tone sounded almost like mockery. I clenched my fists, feeling frustration and fear twist together in my chest. Everything had worked perfectly when I registered my fingerprints in the admin department. Why did it fail the moment I reached the clock-in machine? Was I really about to relive the same nightmare as my last life? While I stood there frozen, several coworkers glanced over. A few even stepped forward kindly, asking if I needed help. As I watched them gather, an idea formed in my mind. I apologized timidly. "I am the new hire, Emma Lane. I'm sorry to bother you, but the fingerprint scanner just won't recognize me."

And Luca—I hadn’t seen him at all. It was just me, in a giant, haunted house, with three numbers circling in my head: One. One. Eight. That was it. Three digits. It meant Leonard’s tree in the Black Wood really had been just a tree. If there was a fourth number, I hadn’t found it yet. Based on the plastic keychain shaped like a 1, clues could come in any form—not just carvings. The more I thought about it, the more restless I became.

I ran around the house as much as I can but at end my body get weak and legs get numb I couldn't run more. I remember...... I cried and screamed to stop them but no one was there to hear me. One dog jumped over my head and I fell down. Those high bass barking voice and their pointed teeth that is still inside my memory like a clear picture. Biting and pulling my dress , I cried miserably to stop that torture but they didn't attacked me by hurting my body but that fear it was for real. I thought they will be eat me . Pressing both my hands on ears and burying my face tightly to the loan grass I stayed there with my trembling body. Next day when I opened my eyes I was still on ground outside

Hands shaking so badly the paper moved. No message. Just numbers in neat careful rows. 4-12-7. 9-2-1. 14-8-3. Tor shone his light on it. "Coordinates?" "No," I said. Voice coming out flat and far away. This was known. My father used to make me memorize number grids in the dark when the power went out in Sector Four. Look at the numbers not the letters, Maevia. Count from the front. Never write it down.

It was a Psychological-Horror landscape—the sanctuary had become a gallery of Elara’s maternal trauma. "Elara, stay back," Kazimir warned, drawing his Glitch-Blade. The flickering edge hissed as it moved through the air, sensing the Corrupted-Code of the ghosts. "The garden is dying, Elara," the ghosts whispered in unison, a hundred different voices creating a Polychromatic Chorus that shook the ground. "The General is gone, but the shards remain. We are the 'Infection' you can never delete." One of the ghosts—the one in the lab coat—walked toward Elara. She didn't have feet; she drifted across the grass, the moss turning to gray ash beneath her. She stopped inches from Elara’s face.

"Shit!" I clung to my Phantom Scooter's half-dead handlebars, flying over a hallway smeared with who-knows-what slime. Dashboard screamed in blood-red: 00:59. A literal death timer. "Overtime termination! Terminate my ass!" I roasted the system six ways to hell and floored it like I was chasing a warp zone. Third floor. Haunted High. The emergency lights flickered puke green over a ghost girl brushing her hair, back turned, dress in tatters.