halloween

Get into the Halloween spirit; all about trick or treating, spooky costumes, Halloween decorations and haunted houses for October 31st and all year round.

The Man Who Appears Only When You Blink
Everyone in my town sees him—but only in the split second when their eyes close. The first time I noticed him, I thought it was just fatigue.
By Modhilraj25 days ago in Horror
5 Most Haunted Objects in History: From Annabelle to Robert the Doll
I have a confession to make: I am obsessed with European history, specifically castles. There’s something about a stone fortress that feels like a magnet for the paranormal. In my mind, every castle is haunted, usually by a lady in a white dress, a headless nobleman, or (the absolute worst) creepy ghost children.
By Areeba Umair26 days ago in Horror
The Last Call from a Dead Phone
I recognized the ringtone before I understood what I was hearing. It was soft, tinny, wrong—an outdated jingle I hadn’t heard in years. The sound crept through my apartment at 11:43 PM, threading its way into my bones before my mind caught up.
By Modhilraj26 days ago in Horror
My Reflection Started Blinking First
The first time it happened, I blamed exhaustion. I’d been working late for weeks, sleeping in fragments, living on coffee and half-remembered dreams. When I stood in the bathroom at 2:11 AM, staring at my own face under the harsh yellow light, it didn’t feel strange that my eyes burned or that the reflection looked slightly off. Fatigue plays tricks, everyone says that.
By Modhilraj26 days ago in Horror
The Train That Only Runs for the Missing
The train station wasn’t on any map. I found it by accident, following a shortcut home after a late shift, cutting through a street I’d walked past a hundred times but never down. The air smelled wrong there—stale, like rain trapped underground. At the end of the road stood a narrow platform lit by flickering yellow bulbs. A rusted sign hung crooked above it, blank except for peeling paint.
By Modhilraj26 days ago in Horror
The House That Breathes at Night
At first, everyone thought the sound was plumbing. A soft groan, like old pipes stretching, always around the same time—3:17 AM. In a house as old as ours, that wasn’t unusual. The building had stood for more than a century, swallowing generations of families, secrets sealed behind layers of paint and plaster. Houses like that made noise. They sighed. They settled. They complained.
By Modhilraj26 days ago in Horror
My Wife Started Sleepwalking Into the Basement We Don’t Have
Every night, she comes back knowing something new By Anees Ul Ameen The first time my wife sleepwalked, I wasn’t scared.
By aneesabout a month ago in Horror
Indigo Hunger
Arthur first noticed it with the maps. Stacked high in the forgotten archives, their old, brittle paper smelled of dust and time. But the oceans, drawn in a deep, almost indigo ink, gave off something else. A whisper on his tongue. Not a smell, not a memory, but a taste, faint as a phantom limb. He licked his lips, confused. Just old paper, he told himself, the chemical tang of dried ink. Nothing more.
By HAADIabout a month ago in Horror
The Sixtieth Second
The Sixtieth Second The evening of December 31, 2025 wasn’t like any other. A weird sense of foreboding lay over the world—not an exhilaration at new beginnings, but a kind of boniness in the air; like when there’s this too-silent hush before news comes down that shatters everything. Millions gathered in Times Square and throughout the world’s capitals. But from a screen in his darkened bedroom, Adam had watched the festivities with an unplaceable dread.
By WR.Sandy Maherabout a month ago in Horror
The Echoing Asylum of Silaos: Where the Patients Never Left | SEASON FINALE
Chatpter 10 CHRONICLER’S LOG: A recovered page from Father Elias’s final journal is stained with what appears to be a black, oily substance. The handwriting is erratic and panicked. The entry describes the Queen as a 'psychic virus,' a gestalt entity composed of every soul that has been broken within the asylum. Its goal is not to possess, but to assimilate.
By Tales That Breathe at Nightabout a month ago in Horror
The Obsidian Shard
Silas hated the cold. Not just the ocean's chill that seeped through a thousand pounds of reinforced insulation, but the cold that settled deep in his bones, the one that came from knowing how alone you really were down here. Three kilometers down. That was the crushing truth. Light itself was a ghost story, a fading memory of the surface world. Down here, the pressure could crush a battleship into a soda can. Today, though, it wasn't just the cold. It was the hum. A low, almost imperceptible thrum that had started hours ago, during the descent, and hadn't stopped.
By HAADIabout a month ago in Horror
The Echoing Asylum of Silaos: Where the Patients Never Left | SEASON 2
Chapter 7 FATHER ELIAS’S JOURNAL: Entry 3: The Queen is not a demon, but a soul. A very angry, very vengeful soul. She is the mother of the asylum. Her spirit, and her profound grief, is what has been feeding on the patients' madness. She is what has been devouring them. She is the keeper of the lost. And she is now enraged.
By Tales That Breathe at Nightabout a month ago in Horror