Suddenly, his eye was caught by a light rising from the ground in the cemetery. His heart pounded in fear as before his startled eyes, a white mist burst forth from an unmarked grave and formed into a large horse carrying a headless rider.
Everywhere I looked, I saw hand-carved trim and lavish use of faux wood-grain painting. Everywhere I walked, I sensed an invisible man with a cigar wandering around the rooms…
“North Plainfield Fire Department,” I said into the phone, expecting the dispatcher’s voice, calling us to a fire. Instead, a frantic woman’s voice rang over the connection: “We need you to come at once. There is a terrible ghost in our house and we want you to remove it!”
I awoke in the middle of the night feeling a cold breeze piercing my sleeping bag. Something huge and heavy began to press me down into the mattress. It covered my whole body. I tried to breathe, but the darkness smothered my nose and mouth…
Standing just inside the gate was a hooded form. Two white-blue eyes blazed out of the cowl that covered its head, and skeletal fingers gripped a large scythe. The air crackled with the energy of a thousand bolts of lightning…
As I drove down the street paralleling the graveyard, I saw a white figure moving among the tombstones. She was walking slowly as if she bore a heavy weight and she was glowing from the inside…
The words in the article he was reading were following a faint, rhythmic pattern: Da-dum. Da-dum. Da-dum. It sounded like dead Polly’s heart beat. Jason screamed in terror and flung himself out of the house…
“Father….” a voice hissed softly a few paces to his right. Old Man Whales screamed and whirled around. Blood Mary stood smiling at him through her blood-stained, razor-sharp teeth.
I called to Jimmy, who was just a yard in front of me, but he couldn’t see the spirit floating toward us across the marsh. Puffs of freezing air formed in front of my nostrils as the little girl started to sing: “I know moonrise, I know star-rise, Lay dis body down.”
‘Take it down!’ the captain roared. “Take it down and bury it!” He staggered away from the head on the pike, which reappeared before him. The woman’s dead eyes gazed defiantly into his own, her long gray hair blowing wildly in the wind.
I wanted out of Dead Man’s Canyon before night. I urged my horse back into our working jog. Suddenly, he tossed up his head and froze in place. My teeth began to chatter, but I kept my finger on the trigger. And then the phantom came for me…
“It comes,” Summer Moon intoned. “It comes with the storm!” Only the chief dared face the frenzied wise woman. “What comes, good mother?” he asked. She turned her glowing eyes upon him. “Wendigo.”
Vampires, werewolves, witches, Bloody Mary, the Wendigo, and other frightening specters populate the pages of this compelling collection of S.E. Schlosser’s best ghost stories and her favorite horror classics from Edgar Allen Poe, Charles Dickens and more. These tales will send shivers up the spines of every camper.
My hand shook as I reached for the door handle. Praying that whatever dark power was out there would leave me alone, I leapt out of the car…
Charlie was startled awake by a familiar sound. He sat bolt upright with an oath. It sounded just like Myrtle playing on the piano. But this was impossible, since she was buried behind the woodshed…
Slowly, two eyes burned themselves into the paper, and a wide grinning mouth with the shattered remains of teeth took shape. “Vengeance,” the mouth whispered…
La Llorona was once a widow who wished to marry a rich nobleman. However, the nobleman did not want to raise another man’s children and so he dismissed her cruelly. But the widow was determined to have the nobleman for her own, no matter what dire deed she must do to win him…
Here we have a collection of unnerving tales of events that happened–and still do happen–in the collective back yard of the Deep South states.
A collection of folktales highlighting famous and not-so-famous New England ghosts, mysterious happenings, powers of darkness, and wonders of the invisible world.
An enemy lures Fortunato into the catacombs of his home, and buries him alive.
The cries of a black cat haunt a murderer after he conceals his wife’s corpse.
