The Haunted Novels & Stories

EMILY I sat still on the couch, hugging myself as if that could chase away the feeling of fear that wouldn’t stop crawling over my skin. The dark had a way of making your thoughts louder, your heart beating faster, and your mind believing anything was possible. The entire house was dead silent, apart from the faint ticking of the wall clock. And then, snap. The power cut off completely. I jumped to my feet. “Kent?” He was already up, phone in one hand, his other hand reaching for the drawer where he kept a flashlight. “It’s the whole street,” he said, peeking out the window. “It’s not just here.”

I pull my shirt down and put Codi against my chest so I can burp her. “Are you familiar with a place called Houska castle?” She sits down and turns her laptop toward me. There is an image of an ancient castle on the edge of a mountain surrounded by a forest. “No?” I look at the photo. “It’s in the Liberec Region of the Czech Republic. Famously haunted and said to be built on top of the gates to Hell.” She clicks another tab on the screen to an image of a mausoleum. “How about Saint Louis Cemetery Number One? In New Orleans?”

Just hearing it made the trees outside the window blur like home was hiding behind them. “Give me the rundown again,” William said, eyes still on the road. Alexandra reached for the wrinkled sheet of paper on the dash. “So, about a month ago, this group of teenagers decided to go poking around this supposedly haunted house on the edge of town—” William cut her off. “Haunted by what?” “Allegedly,” she said, “by a spirit who hates women. Legend says it targets girls—hangs them in the rafters.” “Oh,” I said dryly. “Awesome.”

The real nightmare would begin when the greater haunts came. I could not waste a second, so I floored it downtown. The streets were a horror show of limbs and shattered skulls. Bloated haunts, stuffed from their feasts, snored as they floated in the air. When my car suddenly died, I stepped out and, with a wave of my hand, summoned the nearest haunt, slapping a cool million in gold coins into its palm. "Get me downtown, pronto." The haunt, grinning ear to ear, nearly lost its head, literally. It slapped its head back on and, turning into a dark mist, whisked me away to the city's heart.

Halloween always brought out the weirdos, but I didn’t expect to be one of them, out here alone in the middle of nowhere, the air thick with the scent of damp earth and decay. My boots crunched on the gravel path, the barn looming ahead, its weathered wood silhouetted against the crimson sky. The rumors called it haunted, a place where people vanished on Halloween night, but I figured it was just small-town nonsense. Still, my heart pounded, a mix of adrenaline and unease. The wind rustled the corn, whispering like it was alive, and I swore I heard something—a low growl, deep and primal, cutting through the night. I froze, camera dangling, my breath visible in the chilly air. The growl came

“Wow, and we have interviews with these witnesses?” “Yes, I interviewed several of the diners who were local about it.” “Where did they purchase this haunted doll?” “There’s a shop in town that specializes in restoring vintage dolls. They record the history and events around each doll they sell. They acknowledge whether a doll’s haunted.” “Now let me get this straight. The difference between a haunting and possession of an object or person is a haunting the spirit is of a dead person, and possession is from a non-human entity.” “Correct. Elemental spirits and demonic entities possess objects and people, rather than a spirit of someone that died.”

It always happens whenever I'm scared. "Calm down, Cara, lest you reveal your powers to him," Hana whispers angrily. "If that happens we can kiss this place goodbye because we'll be thrown out as bad bloods." Bad bloods. Otherwise known as the Ruined, or the Cursed. The spoilt apples.

I said. “Do you really want it so bad?” Joshua asked. “What you are suggesting is extremely dangerous. Forest of Mirrors loves to lure people off the track that leads to the Banshee barrows, which are haunted by the bawling Banshees. Those Banshees get out of their barrows only during Halloween nights.”

He hesitated. “But what?” “It’s through the haunted zone. My father refuses to let me go and the guards know it’s where I’m headed, so they keep cutting me off.” He bared his tiny white needle-teeth in frustration. “You aren’t afraid of the ghosts?” I asked. He patted his tiny hand against his chest. “Nyx Hura’nyx fears nobody and nothing, living or dead.” The ground began to shake. If this was the big one, flaming lava could come bursting through the walls at any moment.

From his phone, we found he had bipolar disorder and had been taking those meds. Hank felt a splitting headache. "Remind me, which unit does Dwayne live in again?" "401."