Writing Prompt

I see him. He’s a dark man with tall shadows surrounding him. He’s a cold man with no heart. He was a man of many men. He was a tall demon. A dangerous shadow.

I see him. He walks into his room and struts around like a peacock. Humans never know what lurks in their closets. They only ever think about what they see. Not what they don’t.

I lick my lips. I could laugh at him. He’s foolish. He’s a...

Okay first of all it’s a lot more difficult than they say it is to be a ghost okay? It’s really a fucking pain but it’s easier when you can freak humans out....

It was a stilling cold. A cold that didn’t hold you in place so much as it sucked motion from your bones. Life, the fool that it was, never knew when to retreat. But it had been reduced to a pricking feeling at the tips of Hammond’s fingers and toes— a numbing, staticky memory of warmth that martyred itself at the edges of existence.

Movement was wrong. When Hammond tried it, the needles of pain...

“Theodore! Damn it, get in here!” Miles spews at his younger brother who is fighting to open the fridge.

“But Miles, I am STARVING! And I can’t feel my hands to open anything… Like… They have soda. I have heard about soda but I WANT to smell it, or perhaps taste it. You think it’ll taste okay?” As Miles stares at Theodore like he is a mixture of a lost puppy and a dumbass man. No wonder he is a gh...

The wind howled in the forest, brushing past each tall, eerie tree. The sun was still low in the sky the world cold without its warmth. The predators of the night only now going to bed.

Just as then night began to part heavy feet hit the ground. A woman running away in pure terror. the weighted breath that escaped their lips coming out in a fog. Behind the panicked woman was a Ghost. It stalked h...

The afterlife was not nearly as relaxing as I’d hoped.

When I first woke as a ghost, I had tried everything in my power to communicate with my family, my friends, or anyone who might hear me. Not that I had any success.

So, I resigned myself to simply sticking around. I hung around my old haunts (pun intended), watched over my family, and kept trying to interact with things and people. That was ...

I killed him. I killed him but my anger remained. We were young when he defiled us. Leaving us to rot in the garden as fertilizer. The roses were far healthier that year.

My sisters had long since passed on, they ushered me to join them, even nudging me in their ghastly forms. But I remained. For my anger was far too great to withstand. It simmered in my soul like potent rot. I was plagued. Not ...

There are always signs of a hunter left at a scene. It’s out of their control. Something is always lingering after the dead are gone. Bread crumbs I can follow back the void and find them.

We don’t know why they do it—whether out of vengeance, pleasure, or some other unsatisfied feeling from their first life. All I know is there’s one more dead body in my city, and no one alive knows what happene...

Bartholomew "Barty" Buttercup, renowned paranormal investigator (in his own mind), adjusted his tinfoil hat and declared, 'The spirits tremble before my mighty EMF meter!' A couple of kids laughed at him. Unsurprisingly, this was not paranormal for Faehaven Manor, a popular tourist trap. Barty was swarmed in gadgets. He pulled a gadget that looked like a squirt gun glued on to a wrench out of his ...

don’t don’t wanna be

a stuck spirit

to one place

drifting endlessly

people conjuring

never knowing my

finished business

because i’m finished

why am i here

wind is blowing

can i feel it?

fell it drifting

beneath my fingers

between strands of hair

why am i tethered

to unsolved pieces

to broken leather

hell or heaven

would i rather?

stuck to here

without a reason

kill myself

again this season...