For a period of time when I was younger, I was TERRIFIED of my bedroom in the dark. My parents were still married at the time and we (parents, me, and my sister, who is 11 years older than me) were living in a four-bedroom house in the Midwest — one of those new homes built as part of a subdivision on some former…

Oh please, of course it’s not true! Unless a picture of this newspaper clipping is produced, I’m going to credit the author for writing a pretty good scary story.

When I was 10 we moved into a home that was about 100 years old on a farm about 5 miles outside of the small town we had been living in. We planned to live in that home during the time my parents built their new house on the same property. The home only had two spaces that had been designed as bedrooms so my room was…

Update: I’ve been staring at that old newspaper photo on and off ever since that day last week - trying to will it into making some kind of sense. After posting this story, I felt like I had to look at it one more time. I just realized - that doll the little girl is holding? Is my doll, the one my aunt gave me.…

I’m late to the party, and I’m grey so I don’t know if anyone will see this, but I would like to share nonetheless because these incidents still scare me and because I LOVE the spooky story contest.

But that’s exactly the overwhelming feeling I get when I tell the story of my mother’s date with a serial killer. 

I can share a few spooky stories, but shall share one that leaves me joyful if mystified.

I was napping in our guest room one Monday morning when I woke up to hearing someone running up and down the stairs, and the swishing of track pants. ‘Give me five minutes Daniel,’ I said, assuming it was my son. Then I sat up with a start - it was Monday. My son was in school. The footsteps and swishing continued. I…

This isn’t my story, personally, but it’s one that has kicked around my family for so long that it definitely feels like it’s mine. It’s been told and re-told, but I do think that the central details are very solid.

I told my mom’s story a few years ago and I think it was an honorable mention. That story still creeps me out but here’s one from my childhood that I actually witnessed.

While i was doing my degree, I had to do some fieldwork, and this entailed spending some time in a quaint UK village for a few weeks. The natives were quite welcoming and it made a nice change from normal coursework, so it was fine.

However, right away, I noticed the villagers were a bit odd about some things. For…

I will preface this with the fact that unnatural movements freak me out. A lot.