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Write a story about a character who is haunted by something or someone.

Posted in Halloween on Nov 14, 2025

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✍️ 99 stories

The Haunting of Rin Tin Tin

Shortlisted for Contest #329 ⭐️

A haunted house is only a haunted house if you can afford to live somewhere else. For the financially impaired, it’s just a house with an unusual feature. And this house’s unusual feature was the ghost of former canine movie star and Hollywood sensation Rin Tin Tin.Of course, I didn’t know this was Rin Tin Tin at first. I thought he was just your run-of-the-mill semi-transparent German Shepherd. There’s very few people on Earth that can take one look at this ghost-dog and say “I know that dog! That’s the dog from the 1920s who starred in tho...

31 likes 14 comments 14
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The Haunting Of Rose Cottage

Submitted to Contest #329

Lionel paced the hallway, as he had been for the past half hour, muttering and glaring at the walls as though he could shame them into behaving. Where is that blasted knocking coming from? It had started again about midnight , a steady, maddening tap-tap-tap, as if someone were politely but insistently rapping from inside the plaster. He had checked all the doors. All the windows. The cupboards, the airing closet, even the old laundry chute Hazel had always said was “haunted in a charming, historical way.” But nothing. Just the same narrow,...

23 likes 13 comments 13
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Haunted by Love

Submitted to Contest #329

Haunted by LoveA baby’s cry. Slipping through the chink where the shutters do not quite meet. It threads the rafters, gathers in the corners, grows until it fills the cabin like smoke. I sit at the table, hands wrapped around an empty cup, and wait for it to fade. It never does quickly. Grief doesn’t, I’ve learned. It lingers, like damp in stone. The fire on the hearth is low. It never quite remembers when it began. Some nights I cannot recall laying in the wood. Yet there it burns, sullen and begrudging, as if offended by its own persisten...

22 likes 3 comments 3
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The Girl who spoke through Grace

Submitted to Contest #329

Faith first heard the laughter through the bathroom door.She stood at the sink, gently pulling apart the twists she had set the night before. Her coils—lush, brown, tightly wound—sprang back with their usual defiance. They framed her face the way they always had: full, thick, a crown she still wasn’t sure she deserved.She met her own reflection and looked away.The giggles came again—high and bright, like bubbles rising from a creek. But this time, the sound doubled. Not one child laughing. Two.“Grace?” Faith called, stepping out of the bathr...

20 likes 11 comments 11
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The Danish Circle

Submitted to Contest #329

The first time we played Danish after Sloop disappeared, Maggie O’Neill had a fever that nearly killed her. She put down a Queen and a seven and that meant it wasn’t going to be her night. I had a King and if I placed it upside down, I’d have taken a clean twenty dollar bill off Kate Ebbott. Something told me to wait, and Kate won the hand. Aisling sat out as she always did. Kate told Maggie to go home if she wasn’t feeling well, but at home, the police were outside Maggie’s home putting pieces together and she didn’t want to be there when t...

19 likes 11 comments 11
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My Grandma the Soul-Sucker

Submitted to Contest #329

Grandma was a demon. A fire-and-brimstone demon. And that soul-sucker waited until her dying breath to sign over her dirty work to me. I spread the picnic blanket out in front of the grave. ELIZABETH CAPRICORNOur arse-kicking angelDecember 7th, 1986 - October 1st, 2003 Someone in the street nearby shouted. The sound jumped the wall, and I nearly knocked over the glass vial delicately balanced in front of me. I snatched it upright - I was not getting blood on this blanket. Again. Not even this time - the last time. Now, when Grandma was alive...

18 likes 4 comments 4
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Cold Storage

Submitted to Contest #329

Cold Storage Trigger warning: This story contains themes of grief, trauma, and the death of a friend. Cold StorageI worked the graveyard shift at Della's Diner long enough to know when a night was going to get strange. The storm had already announced its intentions, rattling the windows while the salt shaker shivered its way across the table."Absolutely not," I muttered, pinning it with my hand."You know most people would call the manager if the silverware started migrating," Jess said behind me.I turned. She leaned against the pie fridge, t...

18 likes 4 comments 4
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Endless

Submitted to Contest #329

My name is Clayton Cordell, or at least that is my name now, but I just go by Clay. I was born in Munich, to a family of German nobility in the year 1226, during the ascension of the Holy Roman Empire. I had a highly privileged upbringing, replete with household servants, riding lessons, trips abroad, and I attended the finest schools in Europe. Still, I was never truly happy then. I am still not happy now. Happiness is a fleeting and elusive thing that I can never seem to hold onto for very long. I was knighted at the feet of Frederick II i...

16 likes 18 comments 18
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Kids at Play

Submitted to Contest #329

Warning for profane language Usually, Bill found driving at night on long, winding roads pretty creepy. Adding to the creep factor were the Spanish moss draping the old gnarly oaks that loomed over the road and the fine mist that clung to the blacktop. Bill would’ve been feeling the spooky vibe if he weren't so ticked off at the voice in his ear, repeating the same old explanation as to why his insurance will no longer be granted on his meds, and not really answering his questions.“Yes,” he said, “this is my third time calling for answers, a...

14 likes 2 comments 2
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The Living Come to Mourn

Submitted to Contest #329

The drive always felt longer than it should.Ben gripped the steering wheel tighter as he wound along the narrow forest road. A steady mist streaked across the windshield, and though the wipers kept it at bay, the night pressed in - thick, silent, expectant. The trees leaned close, closing off the night sky. The radio had lost its signal miles ago, so the only sound was the rhythmic thunk-thunk of rubber over asphalt and the faint hum of the engine.It had been twelve years.Twelve years since the accident.He wasn't the first to arrive this tim...

14 likes 0 comments 0
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Cemetery Flags

Submitted to Contest #329

I always enjoyed graveyards. I don’t know what it is about them that draws me there, I used to think it was the quiet, or the isolation. I know now that can’t be right, because there is nothing more occupied than an empty graveyard.I’ve been going to graveyards, cemeteries, a large field with a lot of rocks in it, whatever you’d like to call it, for as long as I can remember. The first house I ever lived in was sat right behind the largest cemetery in my small town. Anyone who’s seen the sprawling churchyards of Queens would scoff at me call...

14 likes 2 comments 2
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Death and Romance at 8 Centimeters per Minute

Submitted to Contest #329

Shayla, whom I was meeting for the first time in-person, didn’t hide her displeasure when I wanted to leave after just one hour. Outside of the restaurant, I helped her put her jacket on, her beautiful hair catching the wind. “Should we catch a movie? There’s a cinema two streets away from here.” “Oh, no, no.” I shrugged quickly. “Thanks, but I can’t stand still for too long. Want to go for a walk?” “It’s kind of cold.” She hugged her shoulders. “I think I’ll get going. But it was great meeting you. Take care!” Before I managed to reach for ...

13 likes 1 comment 1
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Unforgiven

Submitted to Contest #329

CW: Mental health, Substance abuse Jez Turner saw a woman stumbling along the moor’s edge, just as it breached the road. She was limping heavily on both feet, it seemed, and was poorly dressed for the weather conditions. It had turned full dark an hour before and there were no city lights in this part of the world. The stars, occluded by scudding clouds, were brilliant when they did appear, yet they offered no guidance. She had no torch, and the lights from his vehicle made her cringe as he passed.And he did pass, when once he would have sto...

13 likes 4 comments 4
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LET ME IN

Submitted to Contest #329

Seven years.It had taken seven years to build the bunker beneath his modest suburban home. It had taken seven years to prepare for the end of the world.It had also taken his savings, his marriage, and most of his waking thoughts. His ex-wife had said he was digging his own grave in the basement. His neighbours simply referred to it as his strange hobby, a charitable term for what they really thought: that Morgan Ellis was unhinged, though harmless.But Morgan knew better. The world was a house of cards, and unlike his ignorant neighbours, he ...

13 likes 6 comments 6
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Banishing the Roommate

Submitted to Contest #329

There is a poltergeist haunting my house, but unfortunately, given the current state of the housing market and rental prices, I can’t really afford to move. So she’s more like a roommate at this point. A roommate who destroys my property and doesn’t pay rent. I try to make it work.I don’t even know her name. I did decide the poltergeist is feminine, though. It’s just a feeling I have, probably to make myself feel more comfortable.After finishing a graveyard shift, I came home exhausted and ready for bed. When I opened the door, I called out,...

12 likes 2 comments 2
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