Haunted Orphanage Novels & Stories

It’s an hour and a half from here to the orphanage where Alexia was born, but in less than forty minutes I’m parking in front of its rusted iron gate, in the middle of nowhere. I touch the heavy chain locking it shut. It would be easier if I could just convince it to open, but my voice only works on the chimpanzees He created. I inhale sharply and snap the links with a single pull. Leaving without feeding was stupid — hunger makes me weaker, and angrier. Three floors of gray concrete, narrow barred windows — more prison than refuge for children. Just one look is enough to know she wasn’t lying about what she lived through here. But Lexi has no idea what’s inside me. Draven didn’t exaggerate

One that he has probably imagined me in He wasn't looking at my face anymore. His eyes focused on the lose belt that drew the line between decency and immorality If he just pulled a string gently, I would be uncovered— So I did the only logical thing I could I slammed the door on his finger— End of Sharon's pov ****************** There was an orphanage that separated Sharon's residence from Luca's It was a large antique building, with a field surrounding it. The children practiced in the morning, before the bus took them all to school.

She must also tell the old mistress once she escaped. She would know what to do. *** The voices of the boisterous kids in the orphanage echoed in her ears. She played with them like always. She cooked their breakfast and dinner and felt the warmth of the kitchen. Everything was at peace. Suddenly, the entire orphanage grew dim, as if it was being eaten by darkness. She heard the cries of the children. They were calling for her. She tried to run towards them, but the hallways grew wider and wider until all she could see was darkness.

She saw a fleeting flash of Victor diving towards her—but then, everything went black. A door creaked open, its groan echoing in the oppressive silence. Soft, childish cries, raw with despair, reverberated off cold concrete. A single, flickering bulb cast a sickly yellow glow overhead. Kayla was small again—eight, maybe nine years old—curled into a tight ball in the corner of the orphanage basement, a desperate attempt to make herself invisible. She remembered this. Every chilling detail. She didn’t want to. Footsteps echoed, slow and deliberate, a rhythmic dread building with each approaching sound.

Like an afterthought. The status was resolved, but the details under it weren’t resolved at all. “One member survived.” “Female.” “Child.” “Placed deliberately.” Then the orphanage name appeared, and I froze. The same orphanage. The one my mother had left me at. The one my father secretly funded. The one where I grew up. The one where I met Lilith. My body started to lock in place. Slowly, I leaned back in my chair, staring up at the ceiling as if it might offer distance from what I had just read.

And the werewolf orphanage, I already knew, was in that same little town. I pulled my hair back and got dressed quickly, bundling up for the cold, and called to have a driver meet me out in front of the palace. The orphanage was a long, gray, single-story building located just outside the capitol. We stopped there first. I jogged the short distance from the curb to the front entrance and hurried inside. I saw that they had sandbags stacked about four feet high, all along the front of the building. There was a mild commotion inside.

He glanced at the screen—it was Baron calling. "Yes?" he answered. Baron’s voice was respectful. "Mr. Tudor, we’ve investigated what Mrs. Tudor asked us to look into. The people who harassed the orphanage were bodyguards from the Cooper family." The Cooper family? Lucas narrowed his eyes slightly. "Find out what connection Hilda has with the Cooper family." "Understood." … The orphanage covered a large area. At the entrance was a spacious open ground where the children usually played. The three-story building served as their living quarters, and behind it was a small yard.

In a whirlwind of months, we were dragged into a battle to the death and children were left in the care of the old and frail, or the pregnant. We waited endlessly to find out who of our loved ones would come home to us. Until one lone night, the people who cared for me in their absence, the last of the Whyte’s who were too vulnerable to follow them, were slaughtered by invading vampires in our own homes on the far edge of the farmlands, and I was a lone survivor who was then shunted to the orphanage. The events of that night are so foggy and hazy, I don’t really remember it at all, or why I was even spared. I was just a child.

Despite her eyes throbbing and bleeding so hard, she kept them open, desiring nothing more than to watch the monster stumbled so unceremoniously on his feet and slumped on the ground, his life ebbing away before he could even ask for it. She realized, then, that she didn’t fear blood, that if it was shed by the people who made her suffer, she would most likely love to bath with it. That was the night she was taken to the orphanage, along with A-16 she hadn’t noticed until Mother Tere said so… ΩΩΩ

Little did he know about light for there was not a day with it. I was staring blankly wanting no more than just an empty space for myself. "I am lucky." I chuckled at the thought. Well, at least that's what most people say. They said not to wallow in my misery and that I was given a chance to move forward to get a taste of what life could bring. But still, I doubted it. Is living alone lucky? I questioned it and every time I did, the pain of the past triples and it is making me more helpless. After my parents died, I grew up living in the orphanage. The nuns talked to me whenever they had the time and there was a therapist who guided me out of the trauma I went through. I was treated there n