The Ouija Board on Halloween Night

Cold wind on Halloween night whistled through the cracks in the wooden windows of an old attic room, sounding like whispers drifting from far away. Four young people had gathered here — Kate and Zoe, best friends since childhood; Vincent, who had planned this night; and Patrick, who wanted a horror video that would make them famous online.

They were in the attic of Vincent’s great‑aunt’s abandoned house, empty for over a year. They had everything ready for filming — 2 black candles, flashlights, and a video camera set in the corner to record everything that would happen tonight.

“I found something amazing at the flea market this afternoon,” Patrick said excitedly, pulling the cloth off a pale square box. “An old Ouija board. It was really cheap.”

Kate looked at it uneasily. She was always wary of old things and the unknown. She noticed faint scratches along the edges and letters faded by time.

“What did the shopkeeper say?” she asked carefully.

“Just that ‘it already belongs to someone,’” Patrick laughed. “Probably just a sales trick to make it sound scarier.”

Zoe stepped closer, looking at the board with excitement. She wanted their video to go viral. “It looks interesting. Let’s try it — it’ll make our video way more exciting than anyone else’s.”

Vincent agreed. He had looked up the rules online — light candles in the dark, place fingertips on the planchette, do not lift your fingers until the session ends, and never challenge what you do not understand.

Kate remained worried. “I don’t like old things like this. We have no idea where it’s been.” But her voice was drowned out by her friends’ excitement. They set a table in the centre of the room, lit the black candles — their flames trembling in the cold wind — and placed the board on a dark cloth.

Everyone sat around the table and rested their fingertips on the planchette. Vincent began. “If there is anyone here, please speak with us.”

At first, nothing happened. Then slowly, the planchette glided toward the letters — one by one: S‑U‑N‑N‑Y.

“That’s my favourite colour!” Zoe exclaimed in surprise.

Patrick laughed quietly. Kate noticed him barely moving his finger, guiding it just enough. They kept playing. The board answered birthdays, favourite pets — it felt like a game.

But as time passed, the candle flames flickered more violently. The planchette moved again — faster this time, and not one of them was touching it to guide it.

“Is… is something really here?” Vincent whispered, his voice trembling.

Kate felt the air turn suddenly colder. A heavy, unexplainable weight settled over the room. “That’s enough. Let’s stop. This doesn’t feel right.”

But Zoe leaned forward, curious and careless. “If you’re really there… what do you want from us?”

The planchette began racing wildly across the board, spelling letters one after another without pause. The candle flames dipped low, nearly extinguished. The wind howled louder. Kate looked at her friends — every one of them stared at the board in genuine terror.

The planchette kept moving. No one could make it stop.

The planchette glided swiftly across the board, the scraping sound shrill in the silence. They stared without blinking as letters formed: A VISIT

Cold wind whistled through the window cracks again, making the black candle flames tremble and nearly go out. Kate felt the room grow suddenly colder. She tried to lift her fingers from the planchette to stop everything — but they wouldn’t move. Something held them fast.

“Why… I can’t lift my hand!” she said, her voice trembling.

Zoe, Vincent, and Patrick tried too — their fingertips were all stuck to the planchette. No one could pull free.

“This is just psychology, isn’t it? We’re just overexcited,” Patrick tried to convince himself, but his voice shook non‑stop.

Vincent looked at the board beneath the planchette, remembering the shopkeeper’s warning he had heard the day before. He flipped the board over. In the candlelight, faint black ink writing showed — 4 names, with dates matching Halloween exactly 7 years ago.

“Someone else… used this board before,” Vincent whispered. “They came here too. They played it just like us.”

Zoe took out her phone and turned on the flashlight, shining it around the attic room. White light swept over the dark corners. She saw old marks on the walls — repeated scratches, as if someone had dragged their nails desperately, trying to find a way out.

“We didn’t just call up a ghost for fun,” Kate said in alarm. “This board is a door… or some kind of promise we never meant to make.”

Just then, faint whispers drifted from the darkest corner of the room — it was hard to make out what was said, but it sounded like many voices speaking at once. Patrick looked toward the wooden door behind them. It began to shake, as if something was pushing from the outside.

“That’s enough! We’re done!” he shouted, pulling his hand away with all his strength — but the planchette still held their fingertips fast.

The planchette moved again, spelling out clearly: C-A-N-C-E-L-L-E-D-I-T-I-S-N-E-V-E-R

Before anyone could speak, both candles went out at once. The room plunged into total darkness — no light at all. They heard slow footsteps approaching… tick‑tock… coming from the darkest corner. These were not their shoes. The sound was heavy, like someone walking on rotting wood.

Zoe pressed her phone’s flashlight button frantically. The screen blinked a few times — then went dark completely.

Everyone stayed trapped in the dark, still connected to the planchette. The footsteps came closer and closer, and the whispers grew clearer — calling each of their names, one by one.

Darkness swallowed every corner of the attic. Slow footsteps drew nearer, heavy and distinct. Whispers blended together, calling their names — Kate… Zoe… Vincent… Patrick… as if beckoning them to follow.

Zoe pressed her phone button frantically once more. The screen flickered to life for a moment, casting a faint pale glow toward the back of the group.

There stood 4 figures, silent and still. No clear faces — only deep grey shadows watching them. Patrick gasped in horror and hurled the board with all his strength onto the floor. But instead of falling, it hovered fixed in mid‑air, unaffected.

Vincent turned toward the wooden door — their only way out. It was sealed shut. Even the narrow cracks in the wood had closed over, as if there had never been a way out at all.

“We didn’t summon a ghost… we signed a contract,” Kate whispered weakly. She understood the board’s hidden rule now — it did not kill them that night. It bound their souls, turning them into part of the cycle, waiting for the next group on next Halloween.

The whispers grew clearer, until all 4 shadow figures spoke in unison: “Become like us… and wait for the next ones.”

Zoe’s phone light faded again into total darkness. Screams, then the sounds of struggle — slowly faded away, until only the wind remained, whistling through the window cracks once more.

When dawn broke the next morning, police and families forced the attic door open. They expected to find the teenagers asleep at the table. But the room was empty. No sign of Kate, Zoe, Vincent, or Patrick. No shoes, no camera, no trace of struggle. Only the Ouija board, resting neatly in the centre — as if nothing had happened.

When someone turned it over, 4 new names had been added in faded black ink beneath the list from 7 years before — Kate, Zoe, Vincent, Patrick.

No one could explain where they had gone. The case remained an unsolved disappearance — no evidence, no clues.

But on Halloween evening the following year, in the same corner of the flea market, that pale board reappeared. It sat in the same wooden box. The shopkeeper did not know how it had returned. He simply lifted it up and set it out — waiting for someone new to buy it.

And it waits there still, every Halloween night — for a new group looking for a scary video, eager to test the unknown, unaware they are about to sign a contract that can never be cancelled.