supernatural
The hidden world of all things supernatural; a look inside witchcraft, spells, vexes, black magic and other spine-tingling supernatural phenomena.
A Faustian Trade
To you this must asked How far can you go to have What you greatly need? The small roll of paper slipped from my fingers, it’s question in calligraphic handwriting knitting my eyebrows as it teasingly floated in the air, just barely out of grasp. Digging both heels into the muddy floor, I snatched it and scanned the surrounding grassy field around me for anything else that seemed out of place. The whistling of an Autumn breeze through a cluster of oak trees and the ringing crickets kept me company as I scoured the bare land.
By Paola Olivas5 years ago in Horror
Twin Spells
The Kindly twins, Gracie and Georgia, were the talk of Salem, Kentucky. They were known for their ravishing looks, and perfect bodies. They were slaves to vanity. However, nobody knew where all this wealth came from. They lived in a huge 10 bedroom mansion, and it seemed like their parents were never around. They drove themselves to school. They threw unsupervised parties. Whatever they wanted to do they did. However; these twins had a much darker lifestyle than you can see with the naked eye.
By Brittany Fuller5 years ago in Horror
PH//FACES
"Searchers after horror haunt strange, far places” Howard P. Lovecraft Casey’s hands were spread out infront of him. He could feel the sticky texture of dried coffee stains and syrup beneath his fingers – no one had cleaned the table before he and his father occupied it. He had been digging into the guck for the last 4 minutes. His father’s battered, bloodied and bruised face was the inciting element that sent every molecule, thought and mental defect into overdrive in a matter of seconds.
By Patrick Santiago5 years ago in Horror
Slide and Lock Puzzle Box
I love haunted items and objects, not because their haunted but because of the brilliant detail each one has. I've always proved that the items that I bought are not haunted by doing every test there is to prove there's no such thing as the paranormal. I don't believe in the supernatural, but I have this love fantasy about the many creepypastas and urban legends. I've even done countless so-called haunted rituals because I hoped something might happen, but of course, it all ends up being untrue. This has never stopped the love I had or the subject though, in fact, they inspired me to tap into my darker side and publish some of my own creepy stories and rituals on Reddit. It was around the time that I've gotten a pretty nice 500 following when I stumbled across this page called "Ebay's Haunted Basement". The page was runner by a man named Gary and he wrote about the different haunted items that he buys from eBay that are supposedly haunted. He also included his customers' experiences and any updates he gave them whenever he bought a new item.
By V-Ink Stories5 years ago in Horror
Monkey
Monkey By Mark J. Wilcoxen Adding five sugars to my coffee, I sit down back at my desk. It was Monday night so it was my job to take any calls that came in and I’d need the caffeine and sugar to stay awake. Other than the ritualistic call from old Mrs. Anderson insisting that someone was lurking around her duck coop, my shift was a quiet one.
By Mark J. Wilcoxen 5 years ago in Horror
Dream's End
When I was younger, I used to dream about a little boy. In my dreams we would run and play, visiting places and seeing things that I could never imagine. It would not happen every night and I remember looking forward to those nights that I dreamed of my friend. It finally occurred to me though once when waking up and being lucky enough to recall my dream that I didn't even know who this boy was, he just was. One night I asked him, "Who are you."
By Thomas Blakeman5 years ago in Horror
The Woman and The Plantation
I was standing in a large front yard. In front of me was a plantation style home. It was a huge white double story plantation style mansion. I had never seen anything like it before. I could hear people to left of me. It sounded as though they were talking. No that wasn’t it. I believe I can hear someone crying. I walked about 300 meters and I could see two African women sitting on the ground. One was crying intensely on to the older woman’s shoulder. They appeared to be mother and daughter. The two of them wore similar clothing to each other. It reminded me of what you saw servants wearing in the old movies. I still found it unbelievable that slaves were ever owned. The whole concept on slavery angered me. I heard the young woman say, “I couldn’t do nothing Mama. Why didn’t she talk to me? I could have helped her. She was my friend Mama.” Her mother replied, “I know Sweety. But you listen to me, Ebony. The mother pointed towards the plantation. That girl in there, she needs your prayers.” The daughter continued to cry. I asked the mother if she was going to be okay. But no one responded to me. I tried again and still no response. I walked around and sat down right in front of the both and they couldn’t see me. However, the minute I saw the younger girl she reminded me of someone. It took just a second before I remembered her from the Jail cell dream. She had grabbed the brown-haired woman from my other dream. They couldn’t see or hear me. Was I just a spectator to all this? I made my way back to the plantation to investigate what was happening.
By Brandon Jones5 years ago in Horror
Sweet treat
Walking home late from a party around 11:30pm. I know a young woman like me shouldn't walking alone in the streets at night, But I had to get home. For whatever reason the street seem unusually quiet for a Friday night . I try to ignore it and pick up the pace. I was only four blocks away. At a bus stop sat an old women, her legs were sticking out and I did not see it, causing me to tripped over her feet. I fall to the ground with a hard thud. " you fucking hag "! I cried while picking myself up of the ground. " pull in your feet next time you see someone coming". I said. She said nothing, the old woman slowly lift up her head at me, then stared into my eyes . . With a big smile on her face he said, " am so sorry dear I hope you are all right? Mama Aradia didn't mean any harm". she smiled her, gums were black like coal with no teeth. I stood back then said " no worries am ok, sorry for calling you a hag". Then old women reached into her bag to pull out something wrapped in foil. " her sweetheart a treat for my troubles " . When I reach out to take it from her, the women grabbed my arm and pulled me close to her. " Diana and Lucifer were my creators and soon we'll be your stepmother and stepfather!". I moved my hand away from her and took the item she was passing on to me, running home at this point as I hear her laughing behind me. When I got home I was shaking, hearing her rhyme play over and over in my head . I place the items she gave me on the counter and just stared at it. " I have to see what's inside " I said to myself and I opened....it was chocolate cake. I locked my eyes on it and I couldn't look away. For some reason I wanted bad even if it kills me..... I took a big bite of the creamy milk chocolate cake as it running down my throat mixed with warm saliva tingle my soul every time I think about it. I wished I can enjoy that bite of chocolate once again. The sweet taste of crumble of the cake falling from my hands back down to my counter, oh how it was so hard to resist. I've been told many times to never touched this lovely decadent treat but I had to have it. It was like a monster craving, not that craving you get when eating ice cream or Skittles, but the craving you get in the middle of the night that you want something and you wanted now! I had it, it was in my hands and in my reach, now down my throat and in my stomach..in the coffin with me. Do I regret it? no!!! I knew I was allergic to chocolate and I knew the risk. I thought I had it under control . but for some reason I couldn't help myself . This cake was so delicious I couldn't just walk away, after eating two slices of chocolate cake I knew I was in trouble. I waited at the kitchen table for my fate as my throat started to close up and my cheeks began to swell, I knew this was the end. Being a ghost is not so bad, but it does hurt my heart to see my mother cry. the benefit of being dead is I can eat all the chocolate cake I want. But nothing could compare to that delicious slices of chocolate cake Aradia gave me.
By Cozette Aviles5 years ago in Horror
Happy Devoted Birthday!
“Mom, are you sure grandma is ok to come home?” “Yes, Alicia, she is fine. Your dad picked her up from the nursing home yesterday so we could spend time with you on your birthday. Besides, it’ll be great since you haven’t seen her in a long time,” my mother said with an upbeat attitude. 12 years ago was the last time I saw my grandma, and we don’t have a great relationship. The last time I visited her, I had accidentally stepped into her rose garden to grab a soccer ball, and she was beyond livid. Once I retrieved the ball, she snatched me by my arm and threatened to eat my soul if I went near the garden again. I ran crying to my dad about it, but he shrugged it off, stating that grandma was just passionate about her garden. It might’ve been nothing to them, but for me, it was traumatizing. Sometimes she would call throughout the years to see how I was doing, but nothing more and nothing less.
By Asea B Moore5 years ago in Horror
The Light
The Light Written By J.Newell My story begins with a knock at the door. Two police officers, hats in hands and death in their eyes stood before me. They opened their mouths to speak but I already knew what words would stumble out and fall onto the floor. "Mr. Brooks, may we come in?" "Please take a seat Mr. Brooks." "Mr. Brooks, your wife passed away last night." "Mr. Brooks, the cause of death was exhaustion from swimming, your wife swam right out into the lake in her night gown." But I already knew all this. I knew every detail of what happened, because I watched it happen. I watched from the greenhouse window on the third floor of our house by the lake. I watched while sipping on a searing hot coffee as my deluded, insane wife swam out to the horizon in the middle of the night because of a light. A light. Something that haunted her in her dreams and in the waking world, her words, not mine. Something that she became so obsessed with that she risked, and lost her own life to try and prove to me that she was not insane. She said that the light beckoned her, called for her, needed her, and that she would "go to it, make contact and bring it back to me". A brilliant green light, she said, that pulsated with a high pitched metallic drone.
By Jack Newell5 years ago in Horror
