Ghost Stories by James Colton
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  1. Default Ghost Stories by James Colton

    I write a lot of ghost stories. I love scaring people through my writing and I'm always trying to get better. To that end I'd like to share some of my work in this thread, for the purpose of entertaining you and perhaps getting some constructive feedback.

    Since the stories can get pretty long, I won't post them all here. Instead I'll just give a quick summary and provide a link to the full text.

    Here are my two most recent ghost stories:

    Garringer's Dog
    Two friends embark on a harrowing chase through the woods one night, “hounded” by a spectral killer.

    Grandma
    A young girl follows a strange noise into an empty bedroom where she finds her grandma sitting in a rocking chair, muttering nonsense.

    You can read my complete collection here: http://www.thenoctrium.com/ghost-stories/

    Please enjoy.

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  3. Default

    Good Morning

    A man spends the night at a small village inn to memorialize a past tragedy. This year, however, the past has come for him.

    Here's an excerpt:

    The darkness in front of us splits, and a pair of blinding orbs appears from nowhere. There’s an awful sound: squealing, bellowing, screaming. I feel like knives are stabbing my ears, I can’t tell which way is up.

    We aren’t rushing through the darkness anymore. Everything’s perfectly quiet. I think I’m upside down, and there’s something dripping in front of me.

    That’s the rest of the dream, just me staring at the source of the dripping, staring and not believing it’s all that’s left of her.


    You can read the rest here.

  4. Default Hallowdale

    This is my first long-form horror story. I had an earlier version of it posted on my site a while ago, but I wasn't happy with it so I took it down. I've since gone back and reworked it, turning it into something longer and, I hope, scarier.

    At its core, Hallowdale is a novel about a newlywed couple who get lost on route to their honeymoon. Instead of a cozy resort, they find themselves trapped in a secluded village with a dark past.

    After that, I've written a bunch of shorter stories that flesh out the history of Hallowdale and the entities that haunt it.

    Everything can be found at the link below. Please enjoy.

    Hallowdale

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  6. Default Unit 319

    A man moves into a creepy apartment that seems a little too empty. Soon, he wishes it was emptier.

    I checked on the closet this morning. Turns out if I tap one of the coat hangers, they all bump into each other and make the exact same noise I heard last night. Can’t think of what might have done it, though. Maybe there’s a draft.

    And while I’m talking about the closet, the air freshener isn’t working. It’s just mixing with the stink and making it worse.

    More weird stuff. Ever since the snowstorm, I’ve had this wrong feeling, and I’ve finally pinned it down. The cars. They’re all buried, and no one’s dug them out. I’m the only one that comes and goes, mine are the only tire tracks in the parking lot. But there’s more. I realized it while I was staring at the courtyard this evening: no footprints.

    That rattling sound’s started up again. I don’t think I’ll get any sleep tonight.


    Read the whole thing here: http://www.thenoctrium.com/ghost-stories/unit-319

  7. Default

    An overnight stay reveals why a man's grieving brother has become such a recluse:

    It’s just a random stain, I thought as I tore the pillowcase off so I could wash it in the morning. Just a coincidence. I let the pillowcase fall to the floor, and that’s when I noticed the footprints.

    They meandered in from the hall, came all the way to the bed, then turned around and left the room. They weren’t neat prints with every toe clearly marked; they were smudged and blurred and red.

    They had also definitely not been there when I left to wash my face.


    Read the rest here: http://www.thenoctrium.com/ghost-stories/amy

  8. Default

    A family moved into an old house, and in that house was a room with strange wallpaper. It was a floral pattern, with human faces peering from between the leaves and flowers.

    The family had a young boy who became fixated on one of the faces. He’d sit in that room and stare at a particular spot on the wall. When asked what he was looking at, he’d answer, “That one has a bad smile.” The parents inspected the face, but couldn’t find anything to set it apart from the others. They attributed it to childhood imagination, and weren’t very concerned.

    They were concerned, however, when they found the boy in a different room, one without wallpaper, staring into space.

    Like before, they asked him what he was looking at. He answered, “It got out.”
    You can read the full story here: http://www.thenoctrium.com/ghost-stories/wallpaper

  9. Default

    This next story was inspired the The Legend of Zelda: The Ocarina of Time. It's about two friends that go exploring in the woods. They find some old ruins and a nearby cave. Inside, they meet an abomination. Here's an excerpt:

    He saw it a second before it struck. Another of those ghastly hands shot out of the darkness. Luke tried to dodge it, but he’d seen it too late. The thing latched onto his face, and he nearly passed out as his nose was buried in its spongy palm. Luke had never actually smelled rotten meat before, but he guessed this was what it was like. His screams were muffled by the thing’s putrid skin.

    “Luke! Luke!” Nivia was carrying on. Then she stopped. Luke also stopped struggling, because he heard it too. The scrape of dirt, the rattle of stones. Something else was moving in the cave.
    You can read the whole thing here: http://www.thenoctrium.com/ghost-stories/dead-hand

  10. Default

    Help Me:

    The sounds became clearer as I progressed. At first I’d thought the thumping was footsteps, but it was too hollow and didn’t have the right rhythm. I followed the glowing circle carved by my flashlight as it led me through the house, revealing just a tiny slice at a time. Around that circle, the darkness looked solid. The illusion took hold of my body, and I felt like I was swimming through thick, black water. I could feel it filling my nose with each breath and trickling into my ears.

    The thumping got louder, and I found myself before a door. I remembered what Jake and his dad had said. This was definitely the door they’d been talking about. But as I mentioned, I was never very good at obeying orders. I tried the knob, which resisted me at first, then turned with more noise than I’d have liked. The door fell open to reveal—
    Read the rest here: http://www.thenoctrium.com/ghost-stories/help-me

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    ("...reads well, thanks for sharing it..." went the goblin who would leave a comment on the website next)

  12. Default

    A father tries to comfort his son against irrational nightmares, but he may need more comforting than the child.

    I’m awake, but it feels like a dream. Light creeps in from the hallway, and there’s a small voice making unintelligable noises. But I left the light on, I think. Why’s he still scared?

    Did I imagine it? Did the light just flicker?

    My son’s voice gets louder, and I hear the terror. I feel it. My wife’s warmth is a tether; I cling to it because I know what will happen if I get up to check on our boy.

    The light from his room flickers again, no mistaking it this time. His chanting turns desperate, and I recognize the lullaby he sings to himself. It won’t do him any good. Tears ride his voice, corrupting the melody’s soothing purpose. He doesn’t need lullabies; he needs a firm shoulder to curl against, a strong arm to ward off his nightmares. He needs his father.

    I relinquish my wife’s warmth and cross the hall. My son’s door is halfway open, as I left it, and I can see the child in his bed. The lamp on his dresser buzzes like a fly in its struggle to stay alive. The strobe effect deceives my eyes and causes the blackness to creep in at the edges, and my son sits at the center, staring across the room at something I can’t see as he sings pitifully to himself.

    He hears my footstep, turns to face me. “Daddy—”

    The light goes out.
    Read the rest here: http://www.thenoctrium.com/ghost-stories/red-handed

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