by Jesse R Traynham - Author

Likes: 5
Words: 201

Across the street from the house where I grew up stood a five-step staircase leading to the raised red brick house of my childhood friend, Laynie. One day we’d be friends. The next, not. The day after ... friends.

On a cool fall morning, I waited for the school bus by my mailbox. Laynie came barreling down the five steps to join me with a colorful story about how she had seen ghosts last night. A Mother and daughter, wearing Victorian dresses. They traveled from east to west in their living room.

Classic Laynie. Always with a tale.

Months later, she came screaming down the five steps. She saw them again. This time from west to east. Same old Victorian dresses.

But that was a long, long time ago, and the house has since been torn down, leaving only the five steps.

I had a nice visit with my parents tonight. Dinner. Conversation. When I left, I glanced toward Laynie's house, considering the old days. There they were. The ghosts. Floating from the east. They descended the five steps, jumped into my back seat, and haven't stopped chanting "Laynie."

Anybody know the steps for getting rid of old Victorian ghosts? Help!

by John Cox

Likes: 4
Words: 200

It's was black. Not from paint or stain but from age. Like a mold grew over it and never let go. Light fell short at the cabins porch creating a shadow and shimmer that made it easier to see when looking slightly away from it. Jeremy approached off balance, and nauseated, his mind telling him all the ways that this was a bad idea. His body moving steadily forward against a river of something he couldn't see. The stretch of something long dead burned his nostrils and eyes. A figure appeared in the doorway fuzzy to his watering eyes but heavy to his sixth sense.

"Do you have permission to enter?" A deep voice, calm but laced with a malice that shook Jeremy's chest and made it hard to breathe.

"I do" Jeremy whispered. The entity vanished like smoke and Jeremy was able to take in some deep breaths to settle his burning lungs.

Jeremy woke to the sun shining through a dusty window. The darkness was gone. A heavy necklace hung across his shoulders and lay upon his chest. The power his family tried to forget now lay upon him, cool to the touch but burning on the inside.

by Mary Zuelke Author

Likes: 3
Words: 200

“Don’t eat all the candy.”

“We won’t, Mom.”

With a quick turn, a ghost with two blue eyes squinted at Mary and yanked her arm. “Let’s go.”

Mary shuffled after her sister, toward Michelle’s.

“Wonder Woman? Pathetic.” Michelle leered.

Pouting, Mary tightened her grip on her pumpkin basket, feet fidgeting when Diane held out her ghost hand.

Mary took it.

“Let’s go see Nona.”

Her sister nodded.

Mary ran up the steps. “Trick or Treat!”

“Oh, who is this?”

“It’s me!” Mary pulled off her mask, laughing.

“You can have three, for being so cute. Who’s with you?”

“Diane, she’s a scary ghost.”

Each house filled their baskets.

Mary ran to a darkened door. “Trick or Treat!”

It creaked open with a sudden burst of light.

“Mr. Booth, I thought you moved.”

“I did, but I came back for your birthday, Mary.”

He patted her head and placed a metal toy in her hand.

“Thank you. I have to go. See you soon.”

“Take care.”

“I don’t want tonight to end.”

“Mary!” Feet pounding behind. Hands gripped her. Diane tore off the sheet, blond hair dangling.

“Where have you been?”

Mary turned to see a ghost disappearing into the night.

by Eolas Pellor

Likes: 3
Words: 199

At first my brother and I slept in the same room and, except one time we got locked in the closet when we were looking for toys, nothing creepy happened. Certainly nothing I would call a ghost. But then I got sick, and the doctor advised that we have separate bedrooms.

I don’t know if it was the second or third night after I recovered that I first noticed a rectangle of light appear on my wall. I sat up in bed, puzzled. It looked like the silhouette of a window and a screen door, but there was no way any light from outside could shine on that part of the wall.

The next night, I could see the shadow of a woman come to the door. She opened it and beckoned me. Quietly, so no one would notice, I got out of bed and came closer. Inside the shadow door, there was a blaze of light like the glitter of diamonds. The shadow woman caught hold of my wrist and pulled me, but I stepped back, afraid.

The shadow slapped my face. The mark was there the next morning, and my father bought the nightlight the same day.

by Willow D Fox

Likes: 2
Words: 200

Charlie had practised his terrifying entrance all afternoon.

Tonight, Beacon Bay would tremble.

He drifted through the lighthouse wall, raised his arms and gave an enormous howl.

Busta burped.

Bella barely opened one eye.

“Honestly,” Charlie said. “That was my best one.”

He rattled a chain.

Bella fetched her lead.

“It’s a haunting, not a walk!”

He made the lights flicker.

Grandpaw looked up from his newspaper.

“Bulb needs changing.”

Charlie sank through the floor in disgust.

Being a ghost was supposed to mean something. Screams. Panic. People dropping their biscuits.

Nobody ever dropped a biscuit around these dogs.

He tried one final trick.

Slowly, silently, he floated a biscuit from Grandpaw’s plate.

Both dogs sat upright.

At last. Respect.

Charlie sent it hovering towards the ceiling.

Bella barked. Busta howled. Grandpaw leapt from his chair.

“Charlie! Put my biscuit down!”

The biscuit vanished.

Busta swallowed.

For a moment, nobody moved.

Then Grandpaw laughed so hard his slippers fell off.

Charlie folded his transparent arms.

“I’m supposed to be frightening.”

Bella wagged her tail.

Busta burped again.

Outside, the lighthouse beam swept over Beacon Bay.

Inside, Charlie began practising his next entrance.

This time, he would hide the biscuits first.

by Kathy Goddard writer

Likes: 2
Words: 201

‘The graveyard at midnight. Romantic place to meet.’

‘Nowhere better on Halloween.’

Laura, dressed in her costume as a dancer, gossamer fine skirt swirling around her legs, headed for the gravestone against which Carl was leaning. The church reared above them, shrouding them in its shadow.

‘You could have dressed up.’

‘You know me. I’m just your curmudgeonly husband who loves Halloween for the spiritual meaning rather than the frivolity - the night when the gossamer veil is at its thinnest and wraiths can slip through and walk with the living.’

Laura stood next to him, their fingers almost but not quite touching.

‘Do you believe that the wraiths are wandering through the village tonight?’

‘I do.’

What do you think they want?’

‘They’ll probably be looking for their loved ones, hoping that they’re partying and enjoying themselves.’

‘Don’t they want to be mourned?’

Carl turned to look at her.

‘If they know they were loved in life, they don’t need it in the afterlife as well.’

‘Laura, where are you? Come back inside, you’ll freeze to death!’

‘Go and rejoin your friends. Enjoy the party, my love.’

‘I miss you, Carl.’

‘I’ll be here next year. Same time, same place.’