Category Archives: ghost stories

Finish the story November 1 # /Challenge accepted

authors, buddhism, consciousness, discovery, feelings, free verse, ghost stories, inspiration, philosophy, poem, poetry, Poets, spirituality, thoughts, Uncategorized

still-life-379858_1920

Rules–
Copy the story as it appears when you receive it (and the rules please)
Add somehow to the story in which ever style and length you choose
Be sure to pingback or comment on the original post (here) please
Tag only 1 person to continue the story
Have fun!

Are You Coming Over?

The table was set just as it had been for more than sixty years. The place settings grew from two to thirteen in the early years, but for more than forty years, it had been set for two. Marjorie sat at the table and lightly spread orange marmalade on her toast and looked out into the backyard that was once filled with laughter. Now, snow was starting to fall on long silent echoes of the past. She looked across the table at the empty place setting. A silent tear trickled down her cheek.

When she was finished with her morning toast and glass of water, she washed her dishes, put everything away, and listened to the silence. The birds had left weeks earlier and her neighbor poisoned all the squirrels, so it was very quiet now. There used to be ten families of squirrels that would eat, chatter, run, and play all year-long in her garden. Their happiness attracted the winter birds to the garden. She and Bill would sit for hours holding hands and watching the animals play as their child once had.

All was silent now. Their children all grown and long since moved away. Henry and Francis were lost in the war, cancer took Sally, and Benjamin was too busy with his children. She understood. That was the way life worked. Still, it would be nice to hear from him once in a while. She was so tired of the quiet. So very tired.

A light knock on the door caught her by surprise.

“Just a moment,” she called out.

When she opened the door, a little girl in a white summer dress stood on her door step and shivered.

“Goodness,” Marjorie said, “Who are you, and why are you out here in the cold without a coat?”

The girl rubbed her arms and said, …

To Be Continued

(written by Teresa of The Haunted Wordsmith)

https://thehauntedwordsmith.wordpress.com/2018/11/02/finish-the-story-nov-1/

…

nothing. Marjorie could not understand why this young girl was all alone and most certainly without proper clothes, Since the little girl was not speaking, Marjorie tugged at her arm and pulled her inside the warm house.

It was obvious that this little girl did not come from a home where there was enough money and things. Her feet were very dirty and her hair looked as if she had not ever seen sight of a hairbrush. Underneath her fingernails appeared to be dirt or mud. She was very dirty in appearance and Marjorie was feeling more pity as she studied the little girl who was before her.

The little girl said nothing, but gave special attention to the pictures Marjorie had upon her walls. She also rubbed the frames each one by one with her fingers as if to study the woodwork. She remained quite but acted as if she knew this house and all that was inside it, like an old friend. It puzzled Marjorie but her thoughts gave way to finding some warm clothes and running the little girl a very hot bath, with which to bathe herself. Her mind also thought that perhaps she should call the police and report this little girl to them, but she felt a sense of nurturing and wanted to make the little girl as comfortable and warm ass possible.

Although the little girl did not respond she acted as if she knew where the bathroom was and led her own self up the staircase and into the vicinity of the bathroom, waiting for Marjorie to follow in behind her. Marjorie dismissed this odd and strange coincidence as that little girl must have heard the running tub water, Although in the back of her mind she was starting to get uneasy at how comfortable this mute little girl was, in her house.

Marjorie found some clothes and handed them to the little girl and told the little girl to go ahead and wash her self, put on her clothes and then come downstairs and that she would find her something to eat. The little girl just stared at Marjorie for a couple of very silent seconds and then turned towards the bathroom, went inside, gave another look at Marjorie and then shut the door behind her. Marjorie said to herself, “Well I think she knows what a bath is at least.” It appeared that way at least.

In just a little under an hour Marjorie was so sad and feeling so very lonely, yet now she had a complete stranger in her own bathroom, with no explanation or resolution as to how or why. “Stranger things have happened”, she thought to herself. Or have they? She quickly went about looking for something with which to feed the little girl when she came downstairs. She remembered that once there was a story kind of similar that appeared in the local newspaper.

It was a grim story though and the ending was way to tragic to think upon. The story went on to speak of a little girl who apparently showed up at the door of a person living near where Marjorie lives now. The little girl was also mute and found to be very strange and yet very comfortable around these people, just like this one Marjorie had in her house. The story went on to write about the investigation of this little girl and showed that this little girl had been abused by her mother and father and then buried alive out back of her family’s yard, while still alive. The little girl in that story actually unburied herself, and never was the same. Although the house she stumbled upon took her in and tried desperately to help her, the little girl had remained mute and eventually was found hung ni the storage building out back.

No one wanted to rehash that story up since there was such mystery surrounding it and such tragedy. Marjorie recognized the similarities in that story and the happening with this little girl, could it be the same child? “Preposterous” , she thought. Maybe it was her own grief clouding her mind and judgement

(written by MwsR ❤ )

http://mwsrwriting@wordpress.com/

Just why the little girl had chosen to come now seemed to perplexing. The Story of what occurred to her was heart rendering but she wasn’t convinced it was not all just an urban myth. Marjorie went to see if the little girl was OK, as she walked into the bathroom she noticed the rope mark around her neck leaving a red sore mark that refused to heal. The little girl had tied her hair back after brushing it and had washed revealing under the dirt very white skin almost alabaster like. Marjorie smiled and asked if she was getting on alright, the little girl turned and Marjorie saw in the girls eyes ebony blackness, no white of the eyes just deep black voids and as she stared into them almost hypnotised by them, she could hear screaming and crying, as if within them someone was trying to escape. Marjorie was transfixed and overwhelmed and tears filled her own eyes as she realised the little girls spirit was trapped within this body unable to get out and find peace at rest after being buried alive by her parents. Marjorie reached out to the little girl.

Marjorie woke up on the bathroom floor. She had no idea what had happened, she remembered reaching out to touch the little girl then everything went black. With some effort she picked herself up and searched for the girl. It was dark now, and as she walked downstairs in the dim light a he saw candles leafing from the stairs to the living room. Marjorie followed fearfully, hesitantly, what was happening she thought? As she enter red the front room the girl was sitting cross legged on the dining table surrounded by candles in a meditative position and was chanting mysterious words and incantations.

Marjorie looked on horrified and asked in a stuttering meek voice what was happening and why did the little girl come here?

What followed took Marjorie aback

(to be continued)

I am tagging

Viktoria Emelkin

http://weirdandwhite@wordpress.com/

Spellbinding night

buddhism, consciousness, discovery, Divine, feelings, free verse, ghost stories, inspiration, Lao tzu, philosophy, poem, poetry, Poets, Soul, spirituality

In the spellbinding garden

Of the conscious mind

Everything melts in the mists of time

And paranormal phenomena

Reaches out embraces and entwines

The darkness as well as the light

As the witchcraft and magic

Combine with the alchamistic arts

In the season of the full blood moon

I feel the ether as it fills the room

The ethereal transformation

Raises up the ebony night

I sense the phantoms taking flight

The supernatural mysteries

Are obscuring my mystical sight

Taking me away in a black arts delight

As we dance around the crimson tide

Of the seedier side of the shadowy aspects of life

And as we tumble down the rickety stairs

I feel the abandonment in the eyeless gargoyles glare

With glowing red eyes that scream at us to just beware

The visions of this scary spectral night

I dissappear in the blink if an eye

In the paranormal fog of anguish and supernatural cry

That offers no real hope and tells no lies

In the bewitching moments of the full blood moon night.

He vowed to free her

authors, buddhism, consciousness, discovery, feelings, free verse, ghost stories, Lao tzu, love, Metaphysics, philosophy, poem, poetry, Poets, spirituality

He fell for her as soon as he saw her

She was beautiful but troubled

He asked her on dates

She declined saying though she liked him it was best

He kept pushing asking to know the problem

Until one day she told him that she was troubled by a haunting

A demon came to her each night and claimed her as his own

And she was just so petrified and she felt so alone

He told she was not alone now and he would face the demon

She begged him not to do this but in his love he wS believing

That he could and would conquer anything

If it helped to win her heart

So when he went to face that demon

He was galvanised from the start

It scared him at first by throwing things

And appearing out of the shadows

A gnarly twisted toothy thing

With long fingers and spindly arms

It had yellow eyes and obsidian skin

And sharp razor pointy teeth

It was strong enough to throw him around

And hissed when ever it breathed

But he stood in the face of this demon each night

And every time he did

He reiterated his love for her and that he would keep fighting it

He resonated love and light and spoke blessing to this beast

And uttered mantras that he believed

From his faith that was Buddhist

And after many nights of facing the demon and reciting mantras

A deity appeared on night within this darkened room

It flooded the room with a luminescent light

In one hand it held a chain and in the other it held a scythe

And with its long black hair tied back it shone power from its eyes

The deity ensnared the demon with its bloody chain

And cut the head from the demon with its scythe

As the demon cried out in pain

And the deity dragged away the demon

With its head attached to his belt

And said it was time to return it too Naraka

To dwell in hell until it learnt of its sickness and its evil

And in a moment they were gone and just he and her were left

And she now realised that him loving her was a sign that she was blessed

And everyday that sat and practised Buddhism together

As an act if gratitude and appreciation for the deities endeavours

And their love grew along with their faith

And knew if any demons came again

That they would have the strength

To face it down and call the deity once again.

Image courtesy of Pinterest

Trick or treating

Authenticity, authors, connection, consciousness, discovery, Erotic poetry, feelings, free verse, ghost stories, horror, philosophy, poem, poetry, Poets, spirituality

Seventeen and trick or treating

This was not her plan for halloween

A party down the road was more her scene

But her little brother needed showing round

With mum and dad as well to protect him against killer clowns

Which to her was ridiculous

Because those sort of clowns don’t really exist

But now they had disappeared in a crowd of dressed up ghouls

And she was on her own know not what to do

Dressed as a zombie cheerleader

Full face paint, and bloodstained cheerleader outfit

She had put a lot of effort into it

With her pair of ponytails dipped in red dye

To offset the ebony black of her hair

And her white face with bleeding painted scars

She looked around and saw a house

With Ann avenue of pumpkins

And at the end a witch beckoning all comes in

She shrugged her shoulders and skipped playfully up the path

As she reached the door it opened

And inside she saw a huge hallway

With stairs rising up in front of her

She stepped in stood still chewing gum

Twiddling one of her ponytails

The out of the darkness came forth from the shadows

A creepy disfigured wretched figure

Hunched over, gnarly crippled legs

Black long hair hanging down over its face

But as it came closer she could see its snake like venomous eyes

Red and seething like lava

And sharp pointy yellowy teeth

Wearing a licivious grimace from ear to ear

It stopped in front of her

She saw his varicose veins under its grey skin

Throbbing as the blood pulsed through its body

It reached out towards her and touched her breast through her top

And giggled maniacally as it did

She barely altered her demenour

And watched as it kneeded her supple breast

Then with its other hand reached its hand on to her thigh

Up under her skirt and gripped her buttock

Now drooling and breathing heavily

Still she just stood chewing her gum

Unconcerned this creature was squeezing her bum

It spoke saying that he craved and long to feast on young flesh

It’s breath stunk of rank death

She smiled and replied that she was afraid feasting on her tonight was out of the question

As the creature snarled in disdain at her and gripped at her body tighter

Her eyes lit up in a red radiance

And she suddenly grabbed the creatures head in her hands

And moved her face into his

And started to bite and rip

Tearing skin from the creatures face

It screamed and painfully wailed

As she set about it and assailed the creature

Pushing it on its back and sitting on top

Her fingernails now talons stripped it’s flesh

Causing veins to spurt

As the creature writhed dying and full of hurt

The roles now well and truly reversed

And when finished stood above the poor beast

It’s eyes flickering it’s last moments of life

She lifted her skirt asking if it liked what it could see

All her clothes now soaked in its blood and dripping

Smiling she returned to her innocent teen demenour

Turned and skipped out of the house singing

‘Trick or treat give your candy to me

And I will give you a thrill you will never believe’

As the door shut behind her the creatures life expired

And she went to meet her brother mother and father

To see if they too had feasted on demons

The same as she had this halloween.

Image courtesy of Pinterest

Setting you free

Authenticity, buddhism, connection, consciousness, discovery, feelings, ghost stories, inspiration, Lao tzu, love, Metaphysics, philosophy, poem, poetry, Poets, spirituality

I opened your cage

And freed you from your shackles

And watched you fly away

Telling myself you will return one day

To return the love

I bestowed on you by setting you free

But I did not expect or demand it

I just kept my hopes and dreams up high

And gazed upon the sky from time to time.

Don’t get it twisted

Anarchy, buddhism, consciousness, discovery, enlightenment, feelings, ghost stories, Harmonics, inspiration, Lao tzu

Don’t get it twisted

Don’t lose yourself

Trying to be

That who others

Seem to think that

You should be

Remember you’re unique

And can be

A little bit crazy

And a whole lot flawed

But those are the things

About you that others

See and adore

Within you

So don’t get it twisted

Be the authentic you

Be honest and true to you

And live how you choose too.

Soul eater

Authenticity, buddhism, consciousness, discovery, feelings, ghost stories, horror, inspiration, Lao tzu, philosophy, poem, poetry, Poets, spirituality, thoughts

She felt fingers trace her body

Lightly moving over her supple skin

She felt the static charge arousing her

She felt the stirrings soon begin

She felt a the tongue licking her erogenous zones

And began to lose control

In the darkness of her bedroom

She did not know her husband was home

As the sensations raised higher

And her body writhed even more wilder

As she reached her climaxes peak

In the darkness she could see

A witch like hag holding up her husbands severed head

And a demon between her legs

Before she could react she felt

Her spine chilling moment of death

As the demon let upon her body

And devoured her until little was left

And she felt her soul no as part of the demon

And now she too craved sweet succulent flesh.

Image courtesy of Pinterest

A bump in the night

buddhism, consciousness, discovery, feelings, ghost stories, horror, inspiration, Lao tzu, love, Metaphysics, philosophy, poem, poetry, Poets, spirituality

A noise heard in the darkness

this new place she lived in creaked and groaned

this place she was hoping to call home

first week of living alone

since the end of her marriage

and the broken heart pain she now carried with her.

She go up out out of her bed,

tied back he long black hair,

she felt the goosebumps rise on her tanned skin

her deep blue eyes scanning the dark for everything

slowly she moved from the bedroom

into the living area of this apartment

refurbished but still within the confines

of an old tenement building

she scanned around the room in darkness

hoping to find everything was alright

that it was just a thing going bump in the night

her curtains were closed, they were made of heavy felt

as the looked out on other apartments

and people could look in as they went past

a sliver of a chill snaked slowly up her spine

as she walked over to look behind

and see if something may be hiding

behind her curtains in the night

she pulled it back slowly almost shaking

going slightly weak at the knees

she did not think for a moment

that she would be able to even breathe

as she pulled it back she saw nothing

then a face appeared and screamed

and she do too and lept backwards

Then she heard the laughter after

furious she looked back out

and saw some teenagers running off

though angry that they scared her

at least it solved what noise had gone off

turning back she walked to the bedroom

but then decided to get a drink

and she went to get some juice

and drank it by the kitchen sink

and as she drank it smiling to herself

why she had scared herself

in the mirror above the sink

a silhouette had followed her

no time to think, no time to move

a tear ran from her eye and down her cheek

I am not sure if the felt the snap before she felt it

but now she lay on the floor on the kitchen mat

a life of sorrow now extinct

caused by a demon created by a writers ink.

Satan within

Anarchy, Authenticity, buddhism, connection, consciousness, feelings, ghost stories, inspiration, Lao tzu, philosophy, poem, poetry, Poets, science fiction, spirituality

Satan is not a true being

But a reflection our own ruin

It’s a metaphor for our own short comings

Our own incarnate evil and wicked thoughts

That we subliminally have been taught

Since childhood until we die

The only demons are the ones inside

Created by our own irrational and corrupted minds

That can lead to destructive lives

And it’s no good looking for somewhere to hide

Because darkness is something that resides

In the shadows of your being

Stifling the light

But through goodness and a justifiable life

We can demonstrate our might

And cleanse our being as well as our minds.

Travelog

I adventure through jungles

And tropical lands

I travel deserts over vast area of nothing but sand

I sail the oceans on the jet stream

I work on trawlers fishing in the extreme

I hide from spies and enemies

I sit on mountain tops meditating

I woo and seduce the most beautiful girls

I go to places of extreme beauty

I sail the universe on a cosmic yacht

Ride asteroids and jump from rock to rock

Around Saturn’s Ring and visiting its moons

But before to long I come and it always feels too soon

But I know I will be adventuring again soon

Discovering the secrets so long hidden

Finding Atlantis and Camelot’s residing

I discover alien life in far off worlds

This is my life and it’s lived on the edge

And you may ask how is I am not dead

I say that in books which is where I’ve been

The hero and adventurer does not die in these stories

Every book you see, I live it real and breathe

And in return I get to escape from reality

Get to enjoy a little fantasy

Come join me we can live the dream

Spend hot nights doing nothing more than seducing

Beautiful people

And shining our light and liberating

This is the world in of books in which I live.