As I looked in the mirror, a face that wasn't mine stared back for a second and then disappeared. Creepy, right? There was no logical explanation for it. It made me wonder if there was some sort of spirit lingering in my bathroom, maybe a previous occupant who met an untimely end and was now trapped between worlds, using the mirror as a portal to make its presence known.
I was home alone when the doorknob started turning on its own. No one should be there.
In the attic, I found a diary with my name on it. I've never been in the attic before and the last entry was dated yesterday.
At a haunted asylum. A journalist explored. Footsteps followed him. He found a bloody room. His camera stopped working.
I woke up in the middle of the night to see a shadowy figure standing at the foot of my bed. It just stared at me with empty eyes.
I woke up to see a figure at the foot of my bed. When I blinked, it was inches from my face.
I found an abandoned car in the desert. When I looked inside, there was a skeleton still gripping the steering wheel.
The elevator stopped between floors, and a cold hand touched my shoulder in the pitch - black darkness.
I woke up in the middle of the night to see a figure at the foot of my bed, then it vanished. It was my dead grandmother.
I woke up to find a strange handprint on the mirror, but I live alone.
The last person on earth sat alone in a room. Then there was a knock at the door.
They explored the abandoned asylum. A sudden gust of wind blew out their candles. Whispers filled the dark hallways.