💰[$1,000] Tell us your spooky story 📚

[painandgain]

Graveyard Shift

A new cemetery caretaker takes the night shift on Halloween, ignoring the warnings of the last keeper who mysteriously disappeared. At midnight, the dead rise — not to haunt, but to dance. He joins them, unknowingly becoming the next to vanish when dawn breaks.

 

painandgain

[hothikute]

The Mirror at Hollow House

A group of friends explores an abandoned mansion rumored to grant glimpses of your death in its cracked mirror. One laughs and says he sees nothing — but later that night, his reflection starts appearing in everyone else’s mirrors, always closer, always smiling.

 

hothikute

[dragontower84]

The Candy Man’s Curse

In a small town, children receive handmade candies from a masked man every Halloween. When a group of kids tries to follow him home, they discover that his sweets are made from forgotten dreams — and taking them means you’ll never wake from the next one.

 

dragontower84

[hanamichi98]

The Werewolf’s Letter

A mail carrier discovers an undelivered letter dated Halloween 1893. It’s a confession of love — and a warning — from someone cursed to turn under the full moon. When she delivers it at last, the recipient’s descendant greets her with the same glowing eyes.

 

hanamichi98

[habuansatu]

Midnight at the Museum of Shadows

Once a year, on Halloween night, a secret museum opens for one hour — its exhibits are cursed objects that tell their own stories when touched. A journalist sneaks in to write an exposé but finds herself becoming part of the final exhibit before the doors close again.

 

habuansatu

[jigawa]

The House That Hums at Midnight

Every Halloween, the old Hargrove mansion hums — a low, mournful vibration that shakes the ground. Locals say it’s the sound of the house remembering. When a paranormal podcaster spends the night recording, she discovers that the “hum” is made of voices — all whispering the same word: home.

 

jigawa

[JosephDo2209]

The Masks of Maple Street

A costume shop appears every Halloween and vanishes the next day. Its masks are so lifelike, it’s as if they breathe. When a teen steals one shaped like a demon for a prank, he wakes up unable to remove it — and the reflection in the mirror grins with someone else’s teeth.

josephdo2209

[manhau]

The Night Librarian

At the town library, a hidden staircase appears only on Halloween. The librarian warns a curious girl never to climb it, but she does — and finds a second library below, filled with books that record everything that hasn’t happened yet. One of them has her name on the cover.

 

manhau

[kunbear]

Pumpkin Moon

Every century, the moon turns orange, and the pumpkins in Old Hollow grow large as carriages. Villagers carve faces into them to keep the spirits away — but this year, one pumpkin carves itself. Inside is a face that looks disturbingly familiar to everyone who sees it.

 

kunbear

[yolohnvn]

The Clockmaker’s Halloween

A clockmaker builds a masterpiece that only chimes once a year — at midnight on Halloween. When the bell tolls, time freezes for everyone except him. At first, he uses it to explore and steal. But soon he notices others moving in the frozen world — things that look at him when the clock stops.

 

luongtran

[zdaroybratish]

At 11:59 p.m. on Halloween, everyone in Mia’s group chat got the same message:
“Don’t answer unknown numbers tonight.”
She laughed — probably some chain text making the rounds again.

At 12:04, her phone rang. No caller ID.
Just for fun, she answered.

“Hello?” she said.
Silence. Then — a voice, calm and close, like it was speaking from right behind her.
“Thank you for picking up.”

The call ended. Her screen went black — completely, as if the phone had died. But in the reflection, she saw someone standing over her shoulder.

When her roommate came home the next morning, Mia’s phone was lying on the floor.
The call log showed one outgoing call — to her own number.

zdaroybratish

[nevergiveup15]

Eleanor’s Grave

Each Halloween, flowers appear on Eleanor Finch’s grave — though she’s been dead a hundred years, and no one knows who leaves them. When a descendant investigates, she learns that the flowers bloom from Eleanor’s own bones, feeding on the guilt buried beneath her name.

 

nevergiveup15

[thangduong6789]

The Web Between Worlds

An amateur ghost hunter captures strange electromagnetic readings in her attic. The next morning, webs stretch across her ceiling, threaded with shimmering lights — like constellations. When she touches one, she sees into another world — and something there sees her back.

 

tungauto123

[nguoibattu]

The Empty Chair

At every Halloween party, someone leaves one chair empty “for the spirits.” But when a group of friends breaks the rule and fills the seat, the person who sits there slowly fades from photographs — and then from memory. Only the empty chair remembers them.

 

nguoibattu

[lehoang88]

The Hollow Parade

In a quiet town, children in tattered costumes march down the street every Halloween night, carrying lanterns made of bone. No one knows who they are — until one year, a living boy joins their ranks and his parents recognize his voice chanting among the dead.

 

lehoang888

[anhchangmayman]

The Dollmaker’s Reflection

A dollmaker prides himself on his lifelike creations, though he never sculpts faces — they appear on their own overnight. When one doll’s face looks exactly like his late wife’s, he realizes the reflections in his mirrors have been posing for him, waiting for their turn to be real.

 

anhchangmayman

[nuyehachia]

The Town That Skipped Halloween

After a tragic fire decades ago, the town of Alderwood banned Halloween. But when a child accidentally hangs a single paper ghost in her window, the decorations start appearing on their own — pumpkins, lights, candy bowls — and by midnight, the ghosts of every lost Halloween return to celebrate.

 

nuyehachia

[Putraazkar]

Here's a fun Halloween story! One Halloween night, a group of friends decided to throw a costume party at one of their friends' house. They all dressed up in scary costumes and got ready to party. Suddenly, they heard a strange noise coming from upstairs. They became curious and decided to investigate. As they went upstairs, they found a locked room. They tried to open the lock, but couldn't. Suddenly, the door opened by itself, and they saw a woman dressed in white standing before them. The woman asked them to follow her to a secret room underground. They were all surprised, but their curiosity led them to follow the woman. Underground, they found a room filled with spooky Halloween decorations. The woman then revealed that she was the spirit of a woman who died on Halloween night several years ago. The woman's spirit asked them to help her finish some unfinished business. They all agreed and helped the woman's spirit find peace. Afterward, they all returned to the party and continued partying until morning. That's it, a fun Halloween story! Want to hear more? 😄
 

stakeid:Aanandika

[Supreeme1982]

Every Halloween night, Mrs. Harrow lit a single candle in her upstairs window.
She said it was for her son — lost at sea fifty years ago.
No one dared ask more.

After she passed away, the house stood empty. But the next October 31st, just after midnight, the same faint light appeared in the window again.
The neighbors assumed it was kids sneaking in to play a prank.

So one of them, a man named Thomas, went to check.
The door was unlocked. The house cold and silent. Upstairs, the candle burned steady — though the wick was untouched, and the wax never melted.

He leaned closer, squinting — and in the window’s reflection, saw not his own face but that of a young sailor, dripping with seawater, smiling faintly.

When the police found Thomas’s car still running outside, the candle had gone out.
But the next Halloween, there were two flames burning in the window.

Supreeme1982

[gajin]

🎃 The Lantern in the Fog 👻

 

Every Halloween night, the fog rolled into Hollow Creek, thick and whispering. Kids said it carried voices soft, calling your name if you listened too long.

 

Mara never believed it, until last October 31st. She followed the sound through the mist, her pumpkin lantern glowing faint orange. The deeper she went, the quieter everything became, until she saw it another lantern, flickering in the distance.

 

It swayed gently, held by someone just out of sight. “Hello?” she called. No answer. Only the soft crunch of footsteps circling her.

 

When the fog lifted the next morning, they found her lantern on the bridge still warm, still glowing. And if you walk by Hollow Creek today, some say you can see two lights in the mist, dancing side by side.

 

Stake ID = gajin1993

[fasoDEP]

fasodep
 

When Emily moved into her new apartment, she loved everything about it — except the second door in her bedroom.
It looked identical to the main one, but it was always locked.
Her landlord told her, “Don’t worry about that door. It doesn’t open.”

For the first few nights, she didn’t think about it.
But then she started hearing sounds — soft knocks, faint breathing, sometimes even her own name whispered from behind it.

One evening, the knocking grew louder.
She shouted, “Who’s there?”
A pause. Then a voice that sounded exactly like hers replied:
“Let me out.”

She ran. Spent the night at a friend’s.
When she returned the next morning, the door was open.
Inside was another room — perfectly identical to hers.
Same bed. Same posters. Same clothes on the floor.

Except for one thing: in the reflection of the mirror, her double was still standing there, smiling.

[samsamoa]

The Last House on Stake Villa

The dare was simple: bring back the porcelain eye from the doll propped in the attic window of the old Stake house.

Eddie and Jake stood on the overgrown curb. The Stake house had been empty for Sixty Nine years, leaning into the wind like a tired old giant. Its front door was a jagged, grey maw.

“You go first,” Eddie whispered, his voice too loud in the silent suburban street.

Jake swallowed, pulling the hood of her sweatshirt down. “We go together, idiot. That’s the rule.”

They slipped into the foyer, the air inside thick and cold, smelling of mildew and forgotten things. Dust motes danced in the single shaft of moonlight cutting through a hole in the ceiling.

The silence was the worst part. There should have been mice, creaking floorboards, maybe the rattle of a loose windowpane. But there was nothing. It was a vacuum.

They found the attic stairs—a narrow, rickety ascent at the back of the house. As Eddie placed his hand on the banister, a sound finally broke the silence.

Click.

It was high, sharp, and sounded like a single, perfect billiard ball hitting marble, coming from the floor directly above them.

They froze. “A tree branch,” Jake whispered, even though there wasn’t a window nearby.

Click. Click.

This time, the sound moved. It was a measured, mechanical tapping, like something heavy but small being dragged across the bare attic floorboards, heading directly toward the top of the stairs. It wasn't the rush of a creature; it was a slow, deliberate movement.

Jake’s breath hitched. “We need to go, Eddie.”

But Eddie’s eyes were fixed on the top of the stairwell, where the tapping had now stopped. They could hear nothing but the frantic pumping of blood in their own ears.

Then, from the darkness above, a voice. It wasn't loud, and it wasn't a whisper. It was a wet, sticky slurp followed by a sound that made them both bolt:

Click, click, click-click-click.

It was the sound of a hundred tiny fingernails tapping the wooden lip of the attic floor, right on the edge, before all of the tapping sounds suddenly dropped off into absolute silence, one after the other, like grains of sand running out.

Eddie and Jake didn't wait to see what was left on the stairs. They didn't even scream. They simply ran, bursting out onto Maple Lane where the cool night air felt mercifully clean. They never spoke of the dare again, but every time they heard the clack of a branch, or a marble rolling across a hardwood floor, they would instinctively check the windows, terrified of seeing that single, missing porcelain eye.

 

Stake Id- Samsamoa

[genarepazz]

genarepazz
 

The fog in Hollow Creek never lifted on Halloween.
It rolled in at sunset and stayed until dawn, swallowing the forest and muting every sound — except for the laughter.

Locals said it was the children from the old orphanage, the one that burned down a century ago.
They played in the mist, calling names that no one should answer.

When Daniel moved into the cabin near the woods, he thought it was just a story.
That was until he heard them — giggles, footsteps, a skipping rope tapping against wet ground.
Then, a soft voice outside his window whispered, “Come play with us.”

He peered through the fog and saw small shadows moving between the trees.
He opened the door and stepped out — just one step.

The laughter stopped.
The fog thinned.
And the clearing was empty, except for a line of tiny, wet footprints leading back into the woods.

In the morning, his porch light was still on.
And next to it — a child’s handprint pressed in ash.

[xfyAngel]

On Halloween night, Emma walked past the old graveyard with a small lantern.
Everyone in town knew the rule: don’t go there after dark.

By one of the headstones stood a pale girl in a white dress.

“Your lantern is beautiful,” she whispered.
“Can you walk me home? It’s so dark where I am.”

Emma hesitated, but the girl’s eyes looked so lonely…
She handed her the lantern.

The light flickered.
Went out.

In the morning, the lantern was found at the gate.
Still warm.

But Emma was gone.

Now, they say two girls stand there —
waiting for someone to walk them home. 👻

Stake ID: xfyAngel

[oafeque]

It was 2:47 a.m. when Jason pulled up to the intersection — empty streets, rain on the windshield, not a soul around.
The traffic light glowed red.

He waited.
And waited.
Two minutes. Five. Ten.
Still red.

He laughed nervously, looked around, and reached for his phone — but the screen wouldn’t turn on.
Then, through the mirror, he saw headlights behind him. One car. Old. Rusted. No driver inside.

The red light flickered.
The car behind honked — a long, metallic scream. Jason hit the gas and drove straight through.

A second later, his world went white.

When he opened his eyes, he was still sitting at the intersection.
Rain. Silence.
The same red light glowing above him.

The clock read 2:47 a.m.

And in the reflection of the rear-view mirror — that same rusted car, still waiting, still empty.

oafeque