monster
Monsters and horror go hand in hand; explore horrific creatures, beasts and hairy scaries like Freddy Krueger, Frankenstein and far beyond.
Haunted places in California
Haunted Places in California Haunted places in California are some of the most mysterious and intriguing locations in the world. From abandoned ghost towns in the desert to eerie, fog-covered hotels along the coast, the Golden State has a wealth of haunted places to explore. With its rich history, diverse geography, and complex past involving everything from the Gold Rush to maritime disasters, itâs no surprise that paranormal enthusiasts consider California a hotspot for ghostly activity. In this essay, I will discuss two of the most famous haunted places in California: the Winchester Mystery House and the Queen Mary. Both sites have drawn thousands of visitors each year, many of whom come seeking not just historical insight, but a personal encounter with the supernatural.
By JONATAN DAVID VEGAabout a year ago in Horror
The Children of the Red Door
Chapter 1: The House on Blackwood Lane The realtor had called it a fixer-upper with character. To Daniel Mercer, it was a tomb. The Victorian house loomed over Blackwood Lane, its sagging porch and boarded-up windows like a face frozen in a silent scream. But with the divorce finalized and his savings drained, it was all he could afford.
By Maqbool Kusarabout a year ago in Horror
"The Witch Who Waits in the Well"
Startriting The Witch Who Waits in the Well Subtitle: Donât Look Down, Sheâs Looking Up In the forgotten village of Thornevale, surrounded by skeletal woods and blanketed in perpetual mist, there stood an old stone wellâlong abandoned, shunned even by wild animals. The villagers called it Miraâs Mouth. They said it was cursed.
By Top stories about a year ago in Horror
"The Tiler's Pattern"
"The Tiler's Pattern" For thirty years, Luca had been tiling floors. He had tiled foyers, baths, and kitchens. He used to make a joke about having laid down more ceramic in his lifetime than most people walk on. The air in his van was constantly heavy with the smell of dried labour, with a subtle hint of dust and grout.
By MD. MOKAROM IMAMabout a year ago in Horror
"The Curse That Built the Town"
The Curse That Built the Town They say the town of Black Hollow was founded on blood and betrayalâand some believe that its prosperity is a debt long overdue. In the late 1800s, settlers came to the region seeking fertile land and a fresh start. Among them was the Whitlock family, devout and driven. Nathaniel Whitlock, the patriarch, led the way with a vision of building a town that would thrive for generations. He brought with him not just his wife and children, but also a mysterious black-bound bookâone he never let out of his sight. The land, however, refused to be tamed. Crops rotted. Livestock died. Children sickened. The other settlers spoke in hushed tones of a shadow in the woods, of whispers at night, of strange symbols carved into trees no one claimed to mark. As fear grew, so did resentment. They turned to Nathaniel for answersâand he gave them one. âWe must make a sacrifice,â he said one evening as the town gathered under the failing moonlight. âNot of blood, but of faith. This land is not dead. It is sleeping. And it must be awoken.â That night, three strangersâdrifters who had come through looking for shelterâwere taken into the woods and never seen again. No one asked what happened. No one dared. But the very next day, the river that had dried up for months flowed once more. The land began to yield. Crops sprouted within days. Animals gave birth in healthy litters. The town of Black Hollow began to flourish. And so the ritual began. Every seven years, under the same moonlight, someone disappeared. A traveler, a criminal, an orphanâalways someone without ties, someone who wouldnât be missed. And the town always prospered. The Whitlocks were reveredâguardians of the townâs "good fortune." But behind closed doors, their family was crumbling. Madness crept into their bloodline. Children were born wrongâeyes too wide, skin too pale. Some screamed for hours at nothing. Some walked into the woods and never returned. One Whitlock child, Evelyn, grew up questioning everything. She found her grandfather's black-bound book buried in the floorboards. Its pages pulsed with an ancient language, ink that shimmered and writhed. She learned the truth. The rituals werenât giftsâthey were trades. The townâs luck was bought in flesh. And the price, she read, would one day come due. Evelyn ran. She escaped Black Hollow and tried to warn others, but no one believed her. The town had grown powerful. Wealthy. Influential. It had its hands in politics, law, media. And those who pried too deeplyâreporters, scholars, even clergyâvanished. Years passed. Evelyn kept the book, locked away. She never married. Never had children. But she kept a journalâhoping that one day, someone would find it and believe. In 2025, a construction crew dug up old foundations outside Black Hollow to make way for a new luxury housing development. Beneath the earth, they found bonesâhundreds of them. Arranged in perfect spirals. Some were animal. Most were not. The project was quickly shut down. The town mayor, a direct descendant of the Whitlocks, claimed it was a âmisunderstood historical site.â But that winter, the river turned black. A sickness swept through the town. Children whispered in voices not their own. And every night, without fail, someone disappeared. Locals claimed they saw Evelyn Whitlockâher eyes hollow, her mouth sewn shutâwalking the old roads. The curse, it seemed, no longer needed permission. It had become the foundation, the soil, the air. Every brick laid, every dollar earned, every child born in Black Hollow carried its stain. The town still stands. Beautiful. Prosperous. Hollow.
By Top stories about a year ago in Horror
The Educated Ghost
I was in my second year of intermediate. It was the night of the new moon. It was pitch dark all around. I couldn't see anything in front of me. It was almost 11 pm. But 11 pm is very late in my country house. Everyone had turned off the lights and was preparing to sleep. I was walking along the road. By walking, I mean I was returning home. It was a friend's birthday. I was returning home after chatting and eating at that friend's house. All the shops were closed. Only a few dogs were roaming around the road. I crossed the main road and entered the alley. Now, to go to my house, I had to cross this alley. I could hear the chirping of insects. It was a creepy feeling. Of course, I was never afraid of ghosts. Many times, I had come through this alley at around 2/3 am and bought cigarettes from the cigarette shop at the intersection. That day, no such fear crossed my mind. I was walking down the alley. I had a lit cigarette in my hand. I was looking at the road from time to time in the light of my mobile phone and humming the song "Dekha toh tujhe yaar, dil me baje guitar" Just then, in the middle of the alley, I suddenly heard someone say, "Excuse me, brother." I turned the light of my mobile phone around. I looked around but there was no one there. I thought that someone might have said it in one of the houses on either side of the alley. I started walking again. After taking two steps, I heard that call again, "Excuse me, brother," and a small crack in my throat. This time, I stopped. I felt a slight fear, but it was not from a ghost or a kidnapper. I thought again that if I run from here now and it was someone I knew, they would tell everyone about the run and puncture my prestige. My throat was not working. Still, I summoned up artificial courage and said in a serious voice, "Who?" The answer came, "Brother, I am your younger brother's friend. I am in great danger. I need your help." I asked with a little annoyance in my voice this time, "Are you talking like a ghost in this tone?" The answer was, "Brother, I am a ghost. Why should I talk like a ghost when I am a ghost? I didn't know what to say. "Who are you, where are you?" I was just thinking of shouting, "Save me," when he said again, "Brother, put out the cigarette in your hand and throw it away, then I will be able to come to you. You know that ghosts get scared when they see a snake." You can't see me. When you look at me, you can see that the hairs on my body stand on end in fear. Does hair stand on end in fear? I have heard for a long time that hair stands on end in fear. He said that the hairs of your people stand on end in fear. The hairs of our ghosts stand on end in fear and start to stand on end in fear. I didn't throw away the cigarette but gave it a strong pull. The ghost said in a somewhat pleading tone, "Brother, please don't show me fear like this, I have a heart problem." I said, "Who are you, tell me the truth?" I know you are someone I know. You are trying to mistreat me. I don't believe in ghosts. He said, "Don't talk like that, brother. If we call ourselves ghosts, why don't you respect us? Who can deny our existence if you think like this? Did I ever say that humans don't have anything to say, humans don't breathe?" I understood, a ghost with a lot of self-respect. I asked him what do you need from me? How can I help you? He replied, "Brother, I will tell you to please put out the cigarette in your hand and throw it away." The camel has become a camel. If you hold it like this, you will get a little bit of it on your finger. I looked at the cigarette. It is really finished. After a while, I really started to smoke. I threw it away and put it out with my foot. Then I said, now tell me what is your problem? The ghost started telling his story. My name is camel. While I was alive, my name was camel, but when I died, my name became camel. I asked how long ago you died? He replied, "I think you are a few lakhs of years old." Then he said, "My name is camel, I am talking while eating chana." I was surprised and asked if ghosts drink tea again? Utghat said why not? Ghosts drink tea and make people laugh. Ghosts have to stay up all night to scare people. Why do they stay up all night to scare people? I just swallowed a little. I didn't know what to say. I don't want to have tea with any ghost at this time of night. I said, look Utghat, you have to stay up all night to scare people, but I don't have any duty to stay up all night to scare any ghost. I'm going home to sleep, so I won't drink tea now. Tell me about your problem quickly.He started talking again, "Brother, I am a very educated person. I have studied up to class two. I got a scholarship in class five and eight in the talent pool." I stopped him and asked him, "How did you get a scholarship in class five and eight in the talent pool if you studied up to class two?" He replied, "Brother, just like you, you get admitted in class one and study up to masters, but our society is the opposite of yours. You get admitted in masters and then you get admitted in class one and then you get left behind." I said with annoyance in my voice, "What a bunch of stupid rules." Utghat said, "No, brother, these are just rules. Your rules are useless. You studied very well in primary and secondary schools. You studied hard, you studied hard, you studied hard. It is more logical to study hard and go to a lower class than to study hard and go to a higher class. This makes my heart strong. I could not say anything to his logic. Then I asked, "Why did you stop studying till class two?" If you had passed class one, you would have been completely complete. She then said, "That's the story I'll tell you, Bhai." When I entered the class, my class was filled with the name of Cheneha. I lost my love for her while I was still alive. Cheneha became the name of the girl who was about to be married. After that, Bhai, I fell in love with Cheneha. Having said this, she kept quiet again. I asked, "What happened then?" After a few seconds, she said, "I was a little embarrassed to tell the story of my love, so Bhai, I kept quiet for a while." I said to myself, "Even ghosts are embarrassed again." I just said it out loud, then what's the story? Utghat started talking again and I told my friend about my dream house. She did not respond to my proposal at all. I started eating, studying and going to school. One day I wrote a story on a piece of paper, "Look, I am playing the guitar with you" and gave it to her. She liked the story very much. She asked me where I got this story? I am a very educated person. I don't tell lies. I told him that this is a Hindi song from Manav Samaj. This story made me stop listening to it. Then he said that if I can collect this song from Manav Samaj, he will remember me. After that, I started collecting this song by studying and listening. But no one helped me, brother. My ghost, upon hearing my voice, runs in the opposite direction or just stops there and starts to cry. I said, "Why do you introduce yourself as a ghost to everyone? If you wanted, you could have taken the form of a human and taken the song from someone." Utthag replied, "I could have done it, my brother." I could have done many other things, like stealing the mobile phone of someone who has this song on their phone and taking it away. But my brother, I am an educated ghost. I do not lie to anyone or steal or deceive anyone. When I was walking in the alley with my friends because of my sorrow, I could hear them singing this song. Now, my brother, my sister is crying. Saying this, Utgat started laughing. I asked why are you laughing? He said, "I am laughing because of my sorrow, brother." You are crying because of my sorrow, and we are laughing. I told him to stop laughing. He stopped laughing. I asked, "How can I give you the song?" He said, "Brother, I am turning on the Bluetooth on my mobile. Please send it." I searched for "new devices" on Bluetooth. After a while, I saw some hieroglyphics. Utghat said that was the name of his device. It was written in ghost language. I sent the song to that device and said that you could have bought the CD of the song and taken it with you. Utghat said that when you went to buy a ladder, you would have bought it from me by giving me a human identity. You would not sell ladders to anyone in the ghost's corner. I am a ghost who is educated. You cannot buy ladders from anyone by giving false human identities. When you went to buy my ladder, you would have read my money. Where will I get my money, brother. You have nothing to say about money in our ghost society. Our currency is a thorn. With that, you would not have been able to buy a ladder in our society. I am an educated ghost. I would not have been able to steal even a person's money. I was impressed by the honesty of the educated ghost. After a while, the song was completely sent. Utghat started laughing again. I asked, did you get the song. Why are you laughing again? Utghat said, "Brother, this is a laugh of pain, not a laugh of joy." I cannot understand what you are saying to me, brother. As I was saying, "Brother, many great brothers," he started laughing again. I understood that he had become very emotional. I told Utghat that if you ever need any song after this, then come to me. He said, "What's wrong with you, brother?" When will I ever be able to sing a song of the same name in front of my acquaintance? I said, "Well, don't worry about it now. I'm in love with my acquaintance. Now go and complete your studies and get married."Utgat said, "Yes, brother, of course." I will definitely invite you to our wedding, brother. I am an educated person, brother. I never do anything wrong, I will definitely invite you. Then, brother. You will be fine." Saying this, Utgat left laughing (meaning crying). I stood there for a while longer. Then I started walking towards home.
By M Kamrul Islam about a year ago in Horror










