The Haunting Of Ashburn House Novels & Stories

I stayed silent. "The apartment where she had that accident was a company unit assigned to her," Stan said. "It's been empty ever since the accident. Later, the company wanted to take the place back, but the staff they sent over all got badly spooked. Over time, rumors that the place was haunted started to spread." He looked at me, his gaze sharpening. "But that changed when you showed up. When I first saw your rental address, I was shocked. I honestly thought you'd be running out of there in tears within three days. But you didn't.

My breathing tightened slightly, but my expression didn’t change. "Done looking?" Detective Taylor asked. "Yeah." I stood up and dusted off my hands. "Let’s go." He gave me a suspicious look. "What exactly are you trying to do?" I didn’t answer. I only said, "Can we go somewhere else?" "Where?" "Ellie Wilson’s house." The car stopped at the entrance of Blackridge Hollow. We walked the rest of the way along a muddy path. Ahead of us stood a low, run-down house. The walls were peeling. Junk was piled in the yard. A skinny mutt barked wildly at us.

Morgan was taken aback by this sudden hug. "Ghosts... There are ghosts! Morgan, there are really ghosts in your house!" Ashley was so frightened that her tongue got stuck. Morgan frowned. "Ashley Sanchez, what are you talking nonsense about? Where did the ghost come from?" "It's true! I saw... a white round shadow." Ashley said while pointing in the direction of the flowerbed. Morgan looked up, the garden was quiet, and there was no white round shadow, he couldn't help but said in a deep voice, "Ashley Sanchez, can you find a better excuse for wanting to throw yourself into my arms?"

he shouts, grabbing my arm and pulling me from the room. We race through the pack house, the sound of shattering glass and splintering wood echoing behind us. As we burst into the cool night air, I chance a glance back. My blood runs cold at the sight of Asher stepping out onto the porch, his body wreathed in writhing shadows, his eyes glowing with an otherworldly light. "This isn't over," he calls out, his voice a chorus of countless others. "The game has only just begun." With that ominous declaration, he vanishes in a swirl of darkness, leaving behind only the acrid scent of ozone and despair.

They went at the other people in the living room, hitting, breaking and drawing blood out of all they came in contact with, adding to the blood all over the room. Her host couldn’t move, his eyes roamed around the two rooms but he didn’t move. Everything went quiet, all the screaming, the sounds of furniture and bones breaking were gone. Then Ash came and knelt in front of him, his eyes were full of sorrow and guilt. The little voice was back in the room. The head turned and stared at her—at Merilee, and then it turned back to Ash. Her dad’s voice spoke up again, and then Ash picked her up and handed her to a tall beautiful woman—she looked like Ash’s psycho, she carried Lee out, she was cry

"Sure." Ashton watched the creepy house stood alone in the hilltop beneath the darkened shadow. It looked more like a ghost house than a love nest, but it would be suitable for a forbidden affair. Finally his mission had come to an end, he just had to take the last step to finish it. He would caught the pair in the act and send the wench to her father and her betrothed at once.

Except it wasn’t really a house. It was a stone mansion nestled deep in the forest, wrapped in vines and mystery, perched at the edge of Graymoor like a secret carved into the trees. No one dared venture too close—not even the boldest of teenagers. There were rumors, whispers of wolves howling on windless nights, lights flickering in the attic, and strange sigils burned into the bark of trees nearby. But to Ashara, it was simply home. A lonely one. A quiet one. ⸻

After a thirty minutes’ drive of anxiety and excitement when the car halted in front of the vacant land, Ashton gauged the reaction of each of the occupants sitting in the car. They all were as stupefied as he was the first time, he visited the place. Questions written over their faces, but there were no answers for it but when Shane opened the land with his remote and escorted them inside, Ashton knew from their expressions they considered it a sight which was worthy of their time. More like it was an adventure with a haunted house to a certain extent but, they were at a magnificent glass house.

Even the crows were silent. I walked ahead, stepping over twisted wood and ash. A charred child’s toy lay half-buried near a well. My throat closed. “Don’t wander too far,” Asher said behind me. “I won’t.” I knelt by the edge of a burnt threshold, pressing my palm to the soot. And the vision hit me like a thunderclap. Flames. Screams. Shadow-creatures tearing through the walls. A woman clutching her baby, whispering a prayer in a language I didn’t understand. Then silence. Horrible, echoing silence.