Liam stood at the edge of the old schoolyard, staring up at the abandoned brick building that loomed like a giant, dark shadow against the night sky. The moon was nearly full, casting long, crooked shadows across the cracked pavement, and the wind whispered through the broken windows like a warning, carrying with it the faint scent of mildew and age.
Category: Ghost
Becky stood in front of the old metal locker, her new locker. Rust crept around the edges like it had been there for ages, biding its time, and the number “13” was scratched and faded, barely visible in the dim hallway. She pushed her braided hair behind her ear and glanced over at Oscar, who was peering down the hallway like he expected a ghost to jump out at any moment.
The evening was shrouded in a heavy, overcast sky, the kind that pressed down on the city of Harrisburg like a weighted blanket. A light drizzle tapped against the windows of the black van, its tires crunching on the gravel as it pulled into the small parking lot beside an old, crumbling church. The words “Harrisburg Haunted History” were painted in ghostly white letters along the van’s side, their reflection wavering in the rain-slicked pavement.
Archer Avenue stretched out in front of Emma, a long, dark road cutting through the night. The trees on either side seemed to close in, their shadows merging into a single, impenetrable mass. It was quiet, too quiet, and the only sound she could hear was the soft whir of her bike tires on the pavement. She had taken this route home many times after work, enjoying the peace and solitude. But tonight, something felt different. The air felt heavier, and the darkness seemed thicker, more oppressive.
Martin Graves stepped out of the taxi and onto the cobblestone street, suitcase in hand. The sun, dipping low over New Orleans, cast long shadows through the French Quarter, darkening the historic district with an eerie glow. He stared up at the Hôtel de Saint-Jean, a towering relic that seemed to pulse with life, despite its age. The building loomed over him, its wrought-iron balconies twisted like ancient, grasping fingers. Gas lamps flickered weakly, struggling to push back the encroaching night.
Jacob and Ethan had been urban explorers for years, their YouTube channel boasting thousands of subscribers who eagerly awaited their next adventure. They had explored abandoned factories, deserted asylums, and forgotten ghost towns, but tonight was different. Rosewood Manor, an old mansion on a long-forgotten plantation in Georgia, was rumored to be haunted by the spirits of those who had perished there. The property had been abandoned for over a century, left to decay as nature slowly reclaimed it. The stories of what lay inside were enough to deter most people, but not Jacob and Ethan.
It was a crisp October evening in suburban Omaha, Nebraska, and the air was thick with the kind of dread only a new kid in school could feel. Chase had been at Westview High for just over a month, but tonight, he was about to face his biggest challenge yet. They called it “The Janitor’s Dare,” a rite of passage for all new students.