By Stephanie Parent: If you see the ghost bride with yellowed lace covering her face, turn away. Whatever you do, don’t lift her veil. Look in her eyes, and you’ll die. … Continue readingYellow Lace, Ghost Bride

By Tamika Thompson: I noticed the door in the attic on the second night in the home, and it was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen. Mesmerized, I dropped the box of sweaters I’d brought up for storage and stepped forward. The wood seemed to breathe. The knob pulsed in my hand. … Continue readingThe Door in the Attic

By Tiffany Morris: When she said here, sit, one of the attic shelves sputtered to the ground. The sound of breaking echoed through every storey. “I didn’t mean it,” Kelly said. “When I got upset.” … Continue readingThe Corpse of Hours

By D. Matthew Urban: Oh yes, I’ll be sure to give her the pills every morning. Thank you for coming all this way, Doctor, and on Halloween, too. I’m sure you’re eager to get home and take your children trick-or-treating, but could you spare a minute to join us in a game before you leave? … Continue readingBite-Apple

By Ben Larned: There’s a dead man on the 3rd floor of the abandoned mall. He’s been here for years, staring out at your town with rage and disgust, a silent curse upon this already-desolate place. He is only visible at dusk, when the sun’s glare leaves the window. Wherever you stand, he always seems to look at you. … Continue readingDepartment Store Dead Man

By Georgia Cook: They tricked her.  Long ago, when the nights were colder and darker, when the wind howled across waves taller than houses, and the surface world contained little more than firelight and stone cottages, they stole away her skin and cursed her to eternity as a fisherman’s bride. … Continue readingThe Seal-Bride

By Joe Koch: Drew looked through the peephole for two and a half minutes before venturing out. Nineteen-seventies brutalist architecture massed with obstinate bulk. False entryways and unwelcoming corridors defied trespass. … Continue readingCan Opener

By Christina Ladd: Once upon a time there was a farmer with one son and six daughters. When he died, his son inherited the farm. His daughters inherited: the eldest a milch cow, the second a goat, the third a slaughtering knife, the fourth a bucket, the fifth a red ribbon, and the youngest nothing at all. … Continue readingAnd Red Ribbons for Their Hair

By KC Grifant: The sun shone bright and Death felt fine. Death today was a man too skinny. Greenish limbs hung from his tattered robe. His olive hair twisted with dirt, while beetles dropped, tear-like, along his face. … Continue readingDeath Felt Fine

By Avi Burton: The house is a devotion to dead things. Bulge-eyed taxidermy watches from the white-floored foyer. Crumbling starfish are pinned to the wall as pale decoration. Busts of the long-dead line the mantelpiece. … Continue readingMycophagy