There are many ghost stories in this book. 
1 chapter =1 ghost story.

Short horror stories from a personal point of view containing the darkest thoughts and deepest nightmares from my brain, from unhinged serial killers to the scariest demons these stories have the potential to scare the lighthearted

Without Master Bai and Ol' Wei holding him back, Chen Ge ran much faster. He raced through the village filled with monsters and screamed Xu Yin and Yan Danian's names. Zhang Ya was hibernating, so she gave no response. Xu Yin did give some response, but he was in the middle of a crucial transformation, so he could not help Chen Ge.
Yan Danian was the only ghost Chen Ge could rely on, but this Lesser Red Specter was cowering in the corner of his comic. He picked up his pen and drew circles on the floor, pretending not to hear anything. It was obvious that he was more scared than Chen Ge.
It was understandable. The uncle had locked himself inside the drawer and refused to interact with people. The first time he had chosen to trust some and exit his comfort zone, Chen Ge brought him to Coffin Village. The village that was filled with monsters and danger unsettled the uncle. The world that he had in mind was not like this.
The ceremony had reached its end. All the monsters inside the village had awakened. He could turn down any corner, and he would see dangerous monsters.
"There are only two relatively safe places left in this village. One is the small building next to the ancestral hall. The Red Specter cares about the old lady who lives there, so none of the ghosts dare get close. The second is to meet up with the ceremony procession. Jiang Ling and the Zhu woman are there. Based on the loud commotion earlier, they're probably fighting with the ghost stories society."
Chen Ge thought about it and decided to head to the loud noise. There was an old lady living inside that building next to the ancestral hall. If something happened, the old lady would suffer with him. Therefore, he decided to bring this chaos to the ghost stories society. Chen Ge ran for his life, and the monsters behind him continued to gather. Chen Ge was feeling wronged; all he did was wreck a coffin, why were these spirits so relentless?
The people who were fighting probably also did not expect Chen Ge to cause the whole village to chase after him. Seeing the group that grew behind him, Chen Ge stopped caring about the red crosses on Ah Qing's map. He ran past them; his only wish was to leave as soon as possible. This caused the group trailing behind him to get bigger.
Gradually, the chaos that he had caused was not smaller than the commotion near the outskirt of the village. The cold wind caressed his face, and the wails echoed endlessly behind him. Chen Ge forced his way through the Coffin Village. Probably because it had taken down so many spirits, blood trails appeared on Doctor Skull-cracker's hammer, and it looked even scarier.
Chen Ge leaned against the wall and took in big gulps of air. Even if he was physically stronger than most, he was fast approaching his limit. He turned to look back, and what he saw made his scalp tingle.
The quantity was unbelievable. In this situation, even Xu Yin broke through to Red Specter, it would not change the situation. Chen Ge needed Zhang Ya's help. "I knew a three-star scenario wouldn't be so simple!"
There was still some time to dawn, but Chen Ge did not think he could hold on any longer. "If I fail to unlock this three-star scenario, it won't appear again. I have to give it my all."
With a grit of his teeth, Chen Ge raced down another street and finally reached the western side of the village, the place where he heard the sound of fighting. Dragging the hammer, leading the host of ghosts, when Chen Ge exited the street, the two forces that were fighting stopped at the same time. When they saw Chen Ge, Chen Ge also saw them.
There were four wells around Coffin Village. The ceremony started at the western well. The ceremony then rounded the village and ended back at the western well.
The Zhu woman was hugging a Red Specter ghost baby with no facial features but few apertures on his face. Jiang Ling and Fan Yu were standing behind her. Facing them were two people wearing black robes. Their whole bodies were covered by the robes.
Ghost stories society!
These words appeared in Chen Ge's mind when he saw the black robes.
Two at once? Could the chairperson be among them?
The continuous murders, the trek into the mountain, it looked like the ghost stories society was determined to finish something that night. For the sake of their goal, they even went head-to-head with law enforcement.
Since it's something so important, the chairperson who has been hiding behind the veil might do this personally.
The situation was chaotic. The ghost stories society and the Zhu woman seemed to be fighting for the well. Standing next to the well, wearing a white and red shirt, was the spider-like Zhu Xinrou who was fighting a uniquely-shaped thin monster.
The thin monster, which symbolized human desire, was the most common monster inside the society. The stronger the monster, the longer its body and the more human faces it had on its body. However, this monster that was fighting Jiang Ling's sister was slightly different. It was sewn together by 6 shadows, but they shared the same lower body. It looked weird but was very strong. It had the upper hand when fighting Jiang Ling's sister.
The fight was bloody, and both had numerous wounds on their bodies. However, Zhu Xinrou, who had less fighting experience, was slowly losing. These two Specters looked to be stronger than Xu Yin, but they're not Red Specters.
Chen Ge initially thought that Zhu Xinrou was a Red Specter, but in comparison to the ghost baby, the difference was quite obvious. When the ghost baby showed up, the whole street's lanterns turned red; the presence was completely different.
Looks like I've underestimated the terror of a Red Specter.
Due to Zhang Ya, Chen Ge thought Red Specters were quite common. However, after witnessing the fight between these two Specters, he realized the gap between Red Specters and normal ghosts.
Jiang Ling's sister was barely hanging on, but the Zhu woman held the ghost baby tightly. It did not seem like she was going to help Zhu Xinrou. She did not turn to look at the adjacent battle. Her eyes were on the black robes.
The only threat that can make a Red Specter cautious is another Red Specter. The black robe opposite from the Zhu woman has to have a Red Specter on them.
The society's power surprised Chen Ge. The patient known as the Devil had two Red Specters, and now this black robe had another Red Specter. The society had three remaining members, but there were only two before him—the most dangerous one was probably still in hiding!
The two parties stood around the well; they were trying to feel each other out, and no one made a move.
Their plan was probably wait for Zhu Xinrou to lose, and then the situation would be bad for the Zhu woman. However, neither party anticipated Chen Ge's arrival. The scariest part was, this intruder was leading half the village's ghosts with him!
In just a few seconds, Chen Ge understood what was happening. He waved the hammer and yelled over his shoulder, "Come and get me!"
With numerous ghosts following behind him, Chen Ge led them to rush at the two black robes.


The hearse with the weird odor slowed to a stop before the entrance. The sound of pebbles could be heard bouncing on the ceiling. There were footsteps coming from the corridor, and there seemed to be someone sawing next door. The door knob to the room rattled slightly, and the faucet in the bathroom kept dripping even though it had been screwed shut. There was a rubber ball that rolled on its own underneath the bed. Wet footsteps started to surface one after another on the floor. 
At 3 am, Chen Ge held a cleaver in his hand as he hid beside the room heater. The call he was trying to make was finally answered. "Landlord, is this what you meant by 'the house can be a little crowded at night'‽"

October 31, 1999
Wan Household

Grant lazily sat on his bed, anticipating his favorite Halloween show. It was a once a year event, and all the kids in the Capital were glued to the tv screen for an hour of hair-raising stories about people who encountered things from the unknown.

He glanced at the clock adjacent to his bedroom door and read the time: six in the evening.

Grant pulled his duvet higher that it almost reached his neck when the introductory song played followed by a witch's cackle. With half an eye closed, Grant forced himself to watch the show.

Eek eek eek eek eek

"Good evening, citizens," the host said in his trademark opening.

"Let's look at the story about the wandering soul in the street called Balete Drive," the host didn't beat around the bush and started with his first story. 

Grant's throat instantly parched. Of all the stories the show could open with, why choose the scariest one of them all. 

Balete Drive... named after the gnarled Balete Trees that lined up along the two-way street. The Balete Trees are actually a relative of Banyan Trees, the latter having a bad reputation for being a dwelling of all things supernatural. 

And at the end of Balete Drive was an illustrious all-girls school which is the reason why taxi drivers would frequently pass by because of a high probability of picking up a passenger, especially at night. 

One day, the story of a taxi driver's harrowing experience spread - of how he left his cab and ran for his dear life after picking up a passenger in the middle of Balete Drive.

Why?

It was raining that night and the windshield wiper swooshed and chatter against the glass, somehow but not quite helping the driver from his obstructed view. He leaned closer, his chest almost touched the steering wheel as he drove by the ill-lit street. It was almost midnight, and the hi-beam of his car's headlights served as his northern light. Not far away, he saw a silhouette standing under a waiting shed, so he decided to pull over the curb and pick up a prospect passenger. 

A lady with long jet black hair dressed in white entered his humble taxi and he instinctively glanced at the rearview mirror and asked the lady where her destination is but the lady didn't answer and kept her head down.

He shrugged it off and continued to drive straight ahead, adjusting the heater in the car when the temperature suddenly dropped a few degrees. The cab driver glanced in the rearview mirror again to check on his passenger, but Balete Drive was dimly lit, making it impossible for him to get a clear view.

They were halfway along the long stretch when the driver could no longer hold it. So he propped his arm on his seat's headrest and twisted his body to face the backseat.

"Where are we headed to, miss?"

WAAAAAAAAAAA!

The taxi driver ran out of his moneymaker in a flash, shouting incomprehensible words, soaking in the midnight rain...

On the backseat of his taxi…

Sat a lady…

She had long jet black hair…

And wore a pristine white dress...

When the driver asked her where she wanted to go, she lifted her head and smiled.

Her mouth oozed blood, her white dress served as the canvass.

Her face ash grey.

Her eyes bloodshot red.

"Doesn't matter where you go. I will follow you. HAHAHAHAHA!"

Grant's hand shook, reaching for the remote control on the bedside table. He quickly turned off the TV and surveyed his room. 'Wooh! My room is clear,' he thought to himself. He peeked on the floor and snatched his slipper, and when he finished wearing it, he long jumped away from his bed, afraid that a hand would creep up under the bed skirt and grab his legs.

He finally relaxed when he reached the main floor and saw his mom and dad by the pocket garden, talking about plants. Madam Wan caught sight of his shadow from the corner of her eye and called out to her youngest son, "Sweetie, Hugo dropped by and was looking for you. I thought you were in Zoey's place?"

His hands flew to his mouth, covering the unpleasant view when he realized he forgot their plans tonight. He ran back to his room and grabbed the paper lantern on the bedside table. He shuddered when he remembered the story of Balete Drive. His legs voluntarily raised itself, his knees almost touched his chest, afraid that a hand would creep out under the bed skirt.

'It's not true, Grant. That is a fabricated story to scare kids. And you! You are not a kid. You are a grown man. Yes, yes, you are a grown man,' he thought to himself. He did not want to voice it out and let other people know how terrified he was indeed. He skipped towards the Sai Household - their next-door neighbor but stood ice-cold in his tracks. 

By the Sai's door stood a girl.

She had long, jet black hair…

And wore a pristine white dress...

"Where are we headed to, miss?" he whispered.

The girl lifted her head.

Her face ash grey.

Her eyes dark as the moonless sky.

And then… and then the girl smiled. 

WAAAAAAAAAAA!

Madam Wan almost let go of the potted plant in her hands when she heard her son scream. She ran towards the main door and softly called out for him, "Grant? Sweetie?" She saw her son ran fast, the fastest she's ever seen him ran, actually. Behind him were Zoey and Hugo all dressed up for Halloween, heartily laughing over their friend's plight. 

"Mommy, there's… there's a ghost!" he crouched on the floor, his face pale and his lungs, out of breath.

The spectators roared in laughter, even the helpers couldn't help but hide their smiles too. Grant stood from his position after regaining all his senses back and looked behind him. He dropped his shoulders when he saw his friends dressed as the Balete Drive ghost and the taxi driver.

"You didn't tell me we're dressing up!" he complained, completely forgetting how idiotic he looked like just a few minutes ago. These two always leave me out on purpose, he thought to himself.

Zoey moved forward, hooking her arms with Grant's and said, "It's ok. You have a lamp. You can be our medium." She smiled brightly at the lanky boy. And even with the horrendous make-up she has on, his heart pounded on his chest and he swears, they both could hear it.

"Ok, that's enough. Shake a leg and let's get going. I don't wanna be late to the party," Hugo said, clapping his hands in presto tempo. 


"I don't remember a white lady wearing a scarf, Grant," Zoey complained when the giant surprisingly wrapped her with a pink rabbit fur neck warmer. "Jeez! Just wear it Zoey! You already scared me. That's your quota for tonight. Don't scare more people." Grant tied the scarf tighter and hid his hands inside his pocket. 

It was mid-fall, and the temperature has significantly dropped that white smoke would come out of your mouth when you speak. The candles in their personalized lanterns dance, illuminating their paths as they playfully brought two fingers towards their mouths and pretended to inhale smoke and then puffing out whiffs of white clouds of breaths into the cold Halloween night.

Innocent and free. An arm's reach away from leaving their youth behind.

Edited by Swaning

Ghost Story #1
 
It was in 1985; the place was at a certain street in the metro, at the back of a major hospital. (Whew! The hair at the back of my neck is standing upright now as I type this!)
I was a young and relatively new engineer then, and my job was to supervise the pouring of concrete on the 4th floor of a certain building in the area. I had an old beater then, a Ford Cortina, that was, unfortunately, in a shop for repair. So, I had to commute going home to my parents' house in the province.
The concrete pour was done by 2 in the morning, and instead of staying somewhere in the city for the night, I decided to still go home. It was drizzling that time and I had to walk towards the vehicle terminal, where I could ride a bus going to another part of the metro and transfer to another bus going to the province.
So, I was walking on the right side of that street and I had to pass by the back of the hospital. During that time, there was a parking lot that was fenced by cyclone wire and it was elevated maybe about six to eight feet above the sidewalk.
I was about 50 meters away from the empty parking lot when I noticed two children about 6 to 8 years old playing in that parking lot! They were mestiza types, and they were wearing white dresses, socks and shoes with ribbons on their head. I saw them running around in a small circle, just like how ordinary children would.
As I walked closer to them, I realized they were not making any sounds, and not even their shoes made any noise! I also realized that they were very pale and their skin was almost white!
This was the time the realization hit me! Why would these kids be playing in this empty parking lot at 2 AM, alone, and while it's drizzling?! I suddenly became so nervous that I crossed the street speed walking, almost running.
When I was directly across the street just opposite from where I saw them, I heard them giggling!
I took a quick glance to my right, and I saw them laughing at me. They were standing close to the fence and looking directly at me.
The scary part was that I could see the faint light of a bulb somewhere beyond the lot through their bodies!
This time I had to look straight and do a quick run until I reached the next street! I was so scared I was trembling!
The next day I told my coworkers about it and we even went to the place again to see that exact spot. Of course, this time it was five in the afternoon!
Nothing was there.
 
Ghost Story #2
 
Let's fast forward to around 20 years later. The year was 2005, and I was working somewhere in the US.
It was the early morning in late autumn and I was on my way home after working late in our field office. It was very chilly, and I had to drive through this long and straight road with empty open fields on either side. It's the first time that I had to pass through this path at night, but I thought it was okay since I could see the red taillights of two cars ahead of me.
One was about a mile ahead and the closer one to me was about halfway ahead of me. I was trying to go within the speed limit of 50 mph since I just had a speeding ticket a month before. And since the road went down in elevation, I could clearly see the two cars ahead of me.
On this road, we had to pass a bridge over a river. There were a lot of trees beside the road before and after this bridge. When the first car reached the bridge, I could clearly see its brake lights, and it had stopped. Then all of a sudden, it sped away, and I even saw the tail lights wiggle as the back of the car swayed.
That was strange, I thought.
Then the second car ahead of me did exactly the same thing! It stopped, then drove away! I was a bit confused since I knew there were no potholes on this part of the road and neither on the bridge.
When I got near the bridge, I realized why the two cars before me stopped!
There was a woman on the left side of the bridge near the railings. She was looking sadly down at the water below with a bowed head. She was dressed in white with flowing white hair! The scariest part was when I realized that she seemed to be floating and her feet were not touching the sidewalk on the bridge!
Oh, my God! It was as if my heart suddenly got caught in my throat and I couldn't breathe!
I thought white ladies only appeared in the Philippines! In Balete Drive in particular… but never in the US!
I had to quickly drive out of there too, and I tried to catch up with the other cars. I didn't mind if I was 20 miles over the speed limit! I was also too afraid to look at the rear-view mirror because I imagined she might be sitting in the back seat of the car!
My head and my heart were pounding when I reached our house. My teenage son was still awake, watching TV, and I had to shout at him to give me a glass of water.
I only managed to reach the sofa and lie down before I felt the dizziness and darkness take over me.
 
 
Ghost Story #3
 
Three years later, in 2008, my 19-year-old son and I were driving home from another state after we attended a gathering with our relatives. It was a late winter night, and it snowed lightly. We were driving on this dark country road with snow-covered fields on either side.
Since there were very few cars, I had full headlights on, but my son kept bugging me to just use the low beams. He said that the snow flying towards the car scared him when I had the high beams on.
When we reached this place with dark bushes and leafless trees at the end of a big open field, we thought we saw a deer running by the side of the road. My son told me to slow down because he thought we were going to hit it. I tried to slow down before we reached what we thought was a deer when suddenly the thing suddenly crossed the road.
To my horror, it was a man who I believe was wearing a leather jacket and pants! I tried to brake on the snowy road, but I still hit him. We thought he was crouching down when he suddenly crossed the road and I hit him square on his side.
There was a loud sickening scream and both of us were speechless for a while. Since it was cold outside, it took us some time to get out because we had to put on hats and scarves. My son tried to dial 911 on his cellphone, but the signal was on and off!
When we got out to try looking for him, we could NOT find the man we just hit!
We tried to search the area for as long as we could, braving the cold, but we really couldn't find him! My son tried to dial 911 again, but he couldn't reach it. We were there for maybe half an hour when an old farmer (at least I thought he was) with a pickup truck stopped and asked us what was wrong.
We told him about what we thought was an accident, but then he asked us if the man was wearing clothes that were exactly what we thought we saw. He also pointed at the front of my car, asking me if there was any damage or even a dent.
My son and I looked at my car and I was very surprised to find that there were none! I could have sworn that at least the grill would be broken.
He later told us just to drive home… and to forget about it. He said it was a ghost of an Indian brave.
Oh, my God! Here we go again!
He added that it was usual for that time of the year for the ghost to make his presence known to strangers, and that it was a very famous ghost in that place.
Here we go again… what the hell! Of course, we never ever passed by that lonely road again… winter or summer!
I don't know what's wrong with me, but I think I attract ghosts wherever I go! I have lots of stories to tell, like when I was growing up in the country during my younger days. I was known in my province as the vernacular as "sarabaton" or roughly translated - one who attracts ghosts!
Well, to those who have experiences like these, I hope it's a comfort for you to know that you're not alone in this. Ghost magnets unite!

Around the mid-2010's, Mab De Narra created a social media group that was meant to be a place where people can share their personal paranormal and supernatural experiences without the fear of being judged by others. They could even find others who can help them with their paranormal questions, spiritual issues, and supernatural problems on this page.

Meanwhile, she was eventually included in The Paranormal All-Stars, where she is able to help even more puzzled and troubled individuals. And by sharing these cases and experiences through this book, we hope to help more to not fear what they don’t know...

...but to see beyond what their senses tell them.

After all, there’s always more to these things than meets the eye.

SHORT STORY of WARD COURIER: The Designer's Tale: "The Palatine Lion"
From the unpublished novel "The Roycroft Tales" (c) 2001 by Ward Courier under the pen name Mason Winfield

1
Ever since it was settled, the village of East Aurora has had a reputation for eclecticism. This may have been the reason Elbert Hubbard (1856-1915), author, entrepreneur, Rosicrucian, and classic American original, chose the town as the home of his now-legendary Arts & Crafts Movement community Roycroft.
They don't teach it in the schools, but the Movement had a strong undercurrent of occultism. And it was never part of Hubbard's public image, but he was long rumored to be involved in mystical, even magical, arts, and a century after its prime this campus of medieval-style buildings is an active source of supernatural folklore. The strangest and scariest events of my life come from a small research group that, in the mid-1980s, devoted itself to a study of the roots of the Roycroft philosophy. It's a natural that I would be interested.
I'm an artist and craftsman living and working in East Aurora. My first job out of college was as a designer for the toy company Fisher-Price, Inc., one of the mainstays of the town. Then Mattel took over the former family business, and since then I've been a craftsman and a self-employed multidisciplinary artist. In keeping with the Arts & Crafts Movement, I work in many arts. I paint and sketch. I make furniture and carve wood.
In the early Fall of 1984 I saw a flyer for "The Supernatural Roycroft," a lecture taking place two days later in the town hall, the former Roycroft Chapel. Fifty folks turned out to hear Allan Randall, a thirty-something fellow I had seen around town but never met. He was teaching at some college I don't remember. He was on sabbatical in East Aurora to study the Roycroft tradition. He had his own take on things.
Randall leafed through a thick text on the lectern. He talked about a lot of paranormal stuff I would have never thought connected to our little village Campus - mystery lights, UFO's, hauntings, and legends.
Then he got heavy into architecture. He compared the Inn to a number of famous structures, including Stonehenge, the pyramids (Egyptian and Mexican), Solomon's Temple, Chartres Cathedral... He talked about ley lines and the Golden Rectangle and sacred geometry. He had the business all worked out. It was hard to follow him everywhere he went, but he sure was interesting.
Randall's basic contention was that many Roycroft buildings were designed in a hidden tradition of geometry and architecture and that there was quite a bit more to Elbert Hubbard and the Roycroft than met the eye. This aspect of world architecture has become relatively public knowledge by now due to examination of sites from the outside, but in Elbert Hubbard's day, the only person who could have built in that style would have been a high initiate (some would say, an adept) of one of the secret societies - Freemasons, Rosicrucians, Templars, God knows what else - that preserved that type of wisdom from the ancient world.
The architecture and the siting of the Inn was supposed to harness the earth-forces, the geological energy, which would lead to heightened sensitivity and trance-experience for the people who associate with it. That explained the ghostly phenomena people reported at the Inn, at least according to Randall. He felt that there was a hidden, worldwide system behind the whole scheme, which seemed to have existed in almost all societies and yet escaped the mention of the textbooks. Randall could only suggest it about Roycroft; the next step in his project was to prove it.
By the end of the lecture a dozen interested folks were at the podium, and we headed out to the town's only coffee house. Nobody wanted the evening to end. Before long a little workshop/club developed and we were gathering every Tuesday at seven at Allan's apartment.
It started so innocently. I still remember those fall evenings. Allan sent people tracking ghost stories on the Roycroft Campus; talking about geophysical surveys with geologists; talking sacred symbols with Rosicrucians and Freemasons; tracking the A & C Movement with art historians and professors and scholars; and a variety of other subjects you'd never think would be connected to the Inn and Campus. Allan knew most of the answers, I think. He prescribed these adventures for people because he wanted them to go through the process.
I was late for the first meeting, and the topics were already assigned. There was one thing Allan said we ought to look up that wasn't covered, so that was mine for the week. After that I was 'the Garbage Man,' tracking down anything that didn't fit any of the other categories.
I remember the group. We had a yoga instructor, a retired middle school principal, a dental hygienist, a reiki master, a music teacher... We'd get together over herb tea and New Age background music and discuss what we'd found since the last meeting. Then we'd hit the coffee house.
It was fun. It was inspiring, too. We were finding out things about the Inn that might help call national attention to it. The Inn was, at the time, not doing well, and we were all concerned about a developer knocking it down for a Rite-Aid. We felt like we were helping to preserve it.
We decided to focus our study for this first year on a short, pyramid-roofed tower at the Roycroft Inn. A lot of people never notice it, though once you have it pointed out to you it's obviously a special feature.
That tower, Allan told us, was never given a peak because it was meant to echo the Great Pyramid at Giza, as well as the Masonic "Eye in the Pyramid" symbol on the back of the dollar bill. Allan was sure about that because there are many other Egyptianate gestures at Roycroft. The Masons love Egyptian symbolism, and they usually put their cornerstones at the northeast. That part of Allan's story was making sense.
Allan told us that the "hotspots" of major religious sites worldwide are located over odd subterranean features. Another of our plans was to check this tower for crossing streams, artesian wells, caves, gas wells, and fault lines. The only way you'd know something for sure was to dig or drill, which isn't happening with a building on the National Historic Trust. The next best thing was to call in the dowsers. We got a couple in there at different times, and each one of them found some sort of energy source, dead center. The coincidences about that tower were mounting.
This tower and the Ruskin Room at the top have gathered a slew of ghost stories over the years, and a delightful retired lady who never missed a meeting took on the job of tracking the folklore. She was ideal for it, because she liked talking to people. She found us a fifty-year pattern of reports about ghosts and other unusual events at that tower. One of the most dramatic concerned a "demon" or something scary seen in the basement just under it. She also found us a report from the 1960s of Elbert Hubbard's ghost - or someone's - carrying a sword on the third-floor hall of the Inn.
But some of us started getting uneasy. One of the points Allan made - about a global system of occult communicators - must have been what got to us. I can't speak for the others, but it was my research on the Roycroft Seal that made me feel like we were uncovering something hidden in plain sight.
This Seal is interesting. It looks a bit like a stretched version of the Nabisco symbol, the double-barred cross, its foot on a chord in the top half of a circle. Some form of this mark was put on every book, lamp, chair, sketch, magazine, or artifact that came out of Roycroft.
Hubbard, it turns out, didn't invent this seal. It had a real past. My journey took me up and down the roots of printing and publishing and back and forth through the last 5000 years of civilization. This same shape was found in two chambers of the Great Pyramid, and the Roycroft version may have been lifted from the Cabalistic Tree of Life. Some version of this seal was used by monks and scribes, by early printers, by Renaissance occultists, by Pre-Raphaelite artists... Names like John Ruskin and William Morris come up in its most recent past, along with lesser-known figures like William Goudi, Nicholas Jensen, and Cassiodorus. The seal could have had some coded message like the mysterious 'monas heiroglyphica' symbol of Queen Elizabeth's astrologer John Dee. This web of connection gave me the creeps.
I talked to Allan about the feeling after one of our October meetings as we all piled out his door. He seemed more worried about getting to the coffee house before they turned off the expresso machine. To him it was an academic puzzle, a study of art and architecture in a certain community in upstate New York. He didn't believe in magic. He didn't think there were any active occult societies. He didn't think we were onto anything that would upset anybody but a few A & C geeks. The project would be over in a couple weeks. He'd write his paper, rouse some interest in the Inn, and wait for the recognition to restore it to prosperity.
Just before Christmas our project came to its end. We had looked over the plans of the Ruskin Room and found that the angles of the roof are not exactly like those of the Great Pyramid, but that there were "mathematical inverses" - you would have to ask Allan what he means by that. We found other shapes and angles that suggested Egyptian features and mystical building styles in general.
When we studied it for astronomical alignment we found that the Inn was oriented just a shade off true north, like the Great Pyramid is now (though it may have been true in its time). We found Native American connections that were more suggestive. I think Hubbard was into that type of shamanistic wisdom, and there are village rumors that the Inn is built over a Native American holy spot. We concluded that the Inn was designed to pay a little respect to an old tradition of ritual architecture. This was not surprising in light of Hubbard's esthetic philosophy, which was artistically conservative - revivalist - like the A & C Movement.

[To Be Continued...]




Author:
Author, teacher, storyteller, and supernatural historian Mason Winfield studied English and Classics at Denison University, earned a master’s degree in British literature at Boston College, and studied poetry and fiction at SUNY Buffalo with professor emeritus and MacArthur grant recipient Irving Feldman. He has written or edited fourteen books, including the regional sensation “Shadows of the Western Door” (1997) and “Iroquois Supernatural,” co-authored with Michael Bastine, on the traditions of the Six Longhouse Nations (Inner Traditions International/Bear & Company, 2011). Several of his surveys of upstate folklore and paranormal tradition may be found at the website of Western New York Wares: www.buffalobooks.com. He may be reached at www.masonwinfield.com.

An anatomically perfect human jaw fashioned of diamond-hard quartz crystal is uncovered at an Ohio burial mound and sold on the underground antiquities market. Shortly after, three pothunters are found dead.

A mysterious new drug suspected of South American origin surfaces in Buffalo, NY. Its unprecedented psycho-tropic effects include the momentary activation of ESP. 

Blind, speechless, emaciated street people start appearing in many parts of the world. An urban legend-cycle forms around them, and the name of a murderous old cult, “the Whistlers” attaches to them.

An archaeological team at a Mayan site reports finding a bizarre artifact and vanishes. 

An upstate schoolteacher’s book of New York legends and folklore foreshadows these developments and more. 

   These are the threads – plus his affair with a maddening woman – that draw narrator Ward Courier into the international adventure of occultism, terror, Native American tradition and onrushing prophecy that is Mason Winfield’s anticipated new novel THE WHISTLERS. By the time the picture of THE WHISTLERS becomes clear, we are ready to believe in a sinister conspiracy that could predate Atlantis and even hail from another world.

"Daddy can you please leave the lights on tonight," said Gabriel.

"No, Sweetie you are much older now,Good night,"said her dad.

"Good night, Dad,"said Gabriel.

Her dad leaves the room and offs the lights. 

Suddenly, She hears a loud rustle from her  closet. she call for her dad but then realizes that the TV out side in hall is really loud. She hears the door of her closet open. Then she hears some shuffling on the floor. 

Gabriel is terrified and decides to pull g
her blanket over her head.

Then she feels something pulls her blanket she was immediately shocked to see the most scariest thing it was a little demon it looked like a baby really wrinkly I she was shocked to see ghost every where suddenly. She screamed and then she realized
her dad was in her room and light were on but the ghost were not gone they were still in her room

Her dad says,"What's wrong sweetie?"

Gabriel says,"There's ghost in the room,"

Her dad says,"nonsense,  I told you not to read too much of that horror story book know you're imagination is getting the better of you,"

Gabriel's dad leaves the room and offs the light with the ghost still staring at her daughter.

Tomorrow have has know school so she decided to try and contact them.

This a book of several ghost story to send chills up your spin and a lot of trills. I hope you like it.

￼192 You"re as Good as a Real Ghos  My House of Horrors￼

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Chen Ge had discovered the 'ghost' underneath the crib, but the 'ghost' did not know that. 

"Come out, brother." Chen Ge pushed the crib aside, and the wiring hidden under the baby pulled taut. A slim man had hidden himself underneath the crib and was holding a remote control in his arms. He was wearing scary make-up, his body drenched in fake blood. 

"Let me ask you, what kind of item am I supposed to look for here?" Chen Ge also felt he was being a bit forward, so he added, "When I came in, the security didn't tell me anything so perhaps you would be able to." 

The 'ghost' under the crib didn't say anything and turned to run out of the room. This sudden action surprised Chen Ge. 

"Why did he run?" To maintain his heartrate, Chen Ge did not run after the guy. He walked leisurely as he had been doing since he entered the Haunted House. "A baby grabbing your clothes, this scare is a bit too plain. There should be a bigger scare. Most likely, the actor is supposed to jump out when I am leaving." 

Picking up the baby from the bed, Chen Ge realized that the make-up skill was still not as good as his was. 

Xu Zhenzhen? The blanket underneath the baby had this name on it. Why is it her again? 

Chen Ge picked up all the nearby babies, and all the mannequins had this name underneath them. 

Ever since I enter the Haunted House, I've been seeing this name. Is this some kind of psychological trick? He looked through the nursery and finally found a clue inside one of the cribs. It was a pendant in the shape of a key. The pendant was sitting on a piece of paper. It read—For my daughter, Xu Zhenzhen. 

Taking something that belonged to the victim will give someone the impression that they're haunted by the dead victim. This note is probably supposed to increase the visitors' fear toward Xu Zhenzhen. 

The pendant was something that Chen Ge needed to proceed. Not taking it meant the inability to move forward. This was another trick by the Haunted House. 

After picking up the pendant, Chen Ge looked at the note. He retrieved the Pen Spirit's ballpoint pen, and he added a few words to the back of note while mimicking the handwriting—I've written. 


A little surprise for them. 

The scare in this room had been exposed by Chen Ge. He walked toward the door, and as he stepped out, there was the sound of something rolling in the dark. Then, a woman with disheveled hair, a face covered with blood, and a bloated stomach ran toward Chen Ge pushing a cart filled with babies. The scariest thing was that the woman had no legs. 

When he saw this, Chen Ge's heart rate jumped slightly, but he soon calmed down. The woman's body was tightly adhered to the left wall, and he had confirmed that the left wall was suspicious before entering the nursery. 

Instead of saying that the woman was pushing the cart, the woman was actually sitting inside the cart and was being carried forward. The corridor was small, and the cart moved fast. The 'pregnant ghost' practically flashed across Chen Ge. 

His gaze filled with resentment locked with Chen Ge. Their faces were merely twenty centimeters away. 

So, the scariest thing is outside the room; that's quite an ingenious design. 

The visitors would be afraid when looking for the key inside the nursery. They would sigh in relief when they finally found it. They would be completely unprepared for the female ghost who waited for them as they left the nursery. 

There are no tracks on the floor, so is there a machine inside the wall that pushes the cart? 

Chen Ge followed the 'pregnant ghost' as the cart pulled back. His footsteps were light. The 'pregnant ghost' did not know that Chen Ge was following behind her. She enjoyed this experience of scaring people. She turned her body around, hoping to scare Chen Ge again. 

However, as she turned and met Chen Ge's extremely inquisitive face, she was caught by surprise, and the expression on her face froze. 

"So, you've been squatting inside the cart; that's quite creative." 

The cart was motorized, and the woman was basically the driver. To protect the visitors' safety, half of the bottom of the cart was connected to the machine inside the wall, and the distance the cart could travel was only one meter. 

"This design is quite interesting, and your gaze earlier did give me the feels. Resentment mixed with hate, it's almost like a real ghost." Chen Ge was never stingy with his praise. After hearing Chen Ge's praise, the 'pregnant ghost' did not know how to reply. She had been in this business for years already, and this was the first time that someone had praised her acting inside a Haunted House. 

Normally, the visitors would not have paid attention to such details. They were like dancers in the dark; they focused on their work, but there was never any appreciation. Sometimes, visitors might even turn aggressive on them. Even though she hated to admit it, she quite enjoyed the compliment. 

"It's nothing…" Perhaps she had been a ghost for too long, but even her voice sounded grim. 

"I'm not kidding. Your gaze was similar to an actual ghost. You are an excellent actor." 

Chen Ge moved on to the next scene with his key. When he left, the woman suddenly realized something. "What does he mean by 'similar to an actual ghost'? Sounds like he has seen an actual ghost before." 

After the nursery, it was the bathroom. There were several mannequins hanging upside down in it. The scares at Tian Teng Medical School were mostly visual scares like these. It would give its impact at first glance, so those visiting their Haunted House would scream endlessly. 

Other than these scenarios, Chen Ge's Haunted House had a different scenario. He depended on continuous influence of the atmosphere to slowly collect the fear inside people's hearts before exploding it at one shot, giving his visitors a scare that echoed deep into their soul. 

The bathroom, diagnosis room, and the doctor's resting room had no actors, and they depended on mechanisms to scare people. In other words, these were the rooms Tian Teng Medical School gave their visitors to recover themselves. Normal tricks and gory scenes did nothing for Chen Ge. He went through all three rooms easily, and then inside the nooks and crannies of the three rooms, he found three different-colored pendant keys. Including the two found inside the heart and the nursery, Chen Ge now had five keys on him. 

All of the keys have different colors, so there should only be one real key. 

Chen Ge pocketed all the keys and entered the fourth room. The room was small and had the décor from decades ago. 

The paint on the walls was yellow, and the chandelier swayed in the wind. There was a 'dead body' lying on top of the office table, and there was a plastic knife and several blood-stained patient's records on the floor. 

There were bloody palm prints on the ceiling, and the floor was covered with messy footprints. The place was messy, like it had been visited by a bunch of ghosts. 

This is interesting. Why is the dead body's frame so similar to the young man that was hiding under the crib earlier? 

Chen Ge walked to the office table and found something interesting. On the bookshelf behind the table sat an old-fashioned tape recorder that was no longer in production. 
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Elliott nodded as he headed down the main street of town and then turned down the highway that would take them out of town a few miles to Lawson's Point. His parents said they knew he was responsible and trusted him to do the right thing, so long as he never left town without their permission and was home by midnight. He was pretty sure Lawson's Point was still considered part of Norman, and he also thought his parents were aware that all the kids went there to hang out. Some of them drank beer and smoked cigarettes, and some of them just talked about doing those things. Some of them drove down the road a little ways and made their cars rock back and forth for a few minutes, and some of them just watched from afar wondering if they'd ever be the ones in the back of the car. So far, Elliott had drank a few beers and smoked a few cigarettes, but he'd never gotten the courage to ask Nancy (or anyone else) to inspect the back seat of the Monterrey with him. He was under the impression that Nancy, who had to be home by 11:00 and never missed a Sunday church service, would just say no anyhow. He didn't want to put any pressure on her. But if what Cliff said was true.
"Hey, you're going to miss the turn if you don't slow down!" Reggie said, bringing him back to reality. Elliott hit the brakes and made the corner a little too quickly, causing Reggie to grab the dashboard to brace himself. "Shit, man."
"Sorry," Elliott muttered. He had impeccable reflexes, always had, but that didn't excuse him from driving recklessly. 
"No problem, man. I just want to get to the point in one piece."
"Why you comin' out here anyway? Who you got your eye on?" Even in the dim light of the harvest moon, Elliott could see Reggie's cheeks pinking out of the corner of his eye. "Who is she, Reg?"
"No one in particular," Reggie assured him. "Just looking to get a little tail, that's all. Don't particularly care from who."
Elliott nodded, seeing his final turn up ahead of them. "Can't blame you there." 
Reggie was pensive. "You you've done it right, man? I mean you you ain't no virgin like me are you?"
"Me? A virgin?" Elliott asked, shaking his head. "Hell, no. I was twelve years old the first time I was with a girl, a woman. Snuck off behind the church building after service one day. Man, I'll never forget her. Sally Tanner. Beautiful woman. Sixteen, big, bouncy breasts."
"That's what I thought," Reggie nodded, having heard the story lots of times before. He had no way of knowing none of it was true whatsoever and that Sally Tanner existed only in Elliott's mind. "Man, you still got that farm girl down the street?"
Another make-believe girl. "Nah. Since I've been seeing Nancy, I cut 'er off. She don't sneak out from her home schoolin' mama no more. Shame, though. That girl sure had nice curves."
"What was her name again?" Reggie asked, and Elliott could tell by his tone the question was more than just for clarification. This was a test.
"Helen," Elliott said thoughtfully. "Never caught her last name, though. Just ran into her one summer down by the creek that runs past our houses."
"Ain't that this creek? Settler's Creek?" Reggie asked as Elliott pulled in next to an old beat up pickup truck and another older model Ford.
"Hell, I don't know how the water ways work around here," Elliott said, backhanding him in the shoulder. They got out of the car and headed over to the point, which was nothing more than a rock overhang that jetted out over Settler's Creek. They called it Lawson's Point because it sort of came to a point, and old Mr. Lawson had made a point of telling all of the kids to stay off of his property. They never listened, though, and the cops stayed away for the most part because they had better things to do than harass members of the high school football team, especially the first team in as far back as anyone could remember that actually had a winning record.
Somewhere around a dozen kids or so congregated in groups sitting on the rocks or the ground. Some held bottles, others were smoking. The trees here were scraggly, and many of them were covered in moss. There was a thick section of wood down the private lane toward Lawson's homestead, the direction most people drove if they wanted a few minutes of privacy, and every once in a while, some kid or couple would come back telling tales of seeing glowing eyes in the trees. Elliott didn't believe in ghost stories. He'd learned a long time ago the scariest monsters in the world are all human.
Nancy was there, standing next to her friend Linda Smoot who had buckteeth, but other than that, was fairly pretty herself. Linda looked up at him and smiled in admiration, her red hair catching the light of the full, harvest moon hanging above in a cloudless sky, but it was Nancy who caught his attention. She was no longer wearing her cheerleading outfit but was, instead, wearing a pink dress that buttoned down the front and flared out at her narrow waist. She twirled a lock of her dark hair around her finger as he approached, and he couldn't help but lick his lips, his heart pounding out of his chest. Maybe tonight would be the night he asked her to join him on down the road a bit.
Until recently this had been Cliff's hangout point of choice, so some of the other kids were still a little standoffish as Elliott approached. He knew he could likely persuade them that his presence over Cliff's was an improvement, but he didn't want to pull his eyes off of Nancy long enough to do so. For now, they'd just have to be uncomfortable if that's the way they felt.




ID Johnson creates characters you'll want to have as your best friends with antagonists you'll love to hate. Her love for all things princess-y compelled her to write her first medieval romance at fifteen, and she hasn't stopped writing since. Now, her plots are a little more complex, her topics a little more mature, and her romances often more intense, but she's never lost the love she felt the first moment she breathed life into a character over twenty years ago. If you love feisty paranormal heroines, damsels who cause distress, or historical ladies who know how to light up a room, then pull up a seat, get out your eReader, and meet ID Johnson's friends. Soon enough, they'll be your friends, too.
Check out her author website at www.authoridjohnson.com.

Three men,  three hunters, three lives transformed through encounters with vampires....

Aaron never wanted to be a vampire hunter, but when he’s faced with protecting his family in an Ireland affected by the potato famine, he’ll do what he has to in order to keep them safe. Follow his journey from a simple farmer, to learning to control his powers, hunting Jack the Ripper, sinking with the Titanic, and witnessing the bombing at Pearl Harbor. 

Jamie wants to be a surgeon and nothing more, but when he is forced to save his sister’s life, he’ll transform into the greatest healer the vampire hunters have ever known. Unlucky in love, he feels like he’ll always be alone until he meets a beautiful blonde. Can he save her from the undead? 

Elliott knows he’s got special powers long before he sees his first bloodsucker. When tragedy strikes his life yet again, he’ll be faced with a choice. Give up everything he’s ever known to fight the paranormal forces influencing his life—or do his best to hide.

A Vampire Hunter’s Tale follows three of our favorite characters from The Clandestine Saga and takes a closer look at how they got their starts. Perfect for lovers of the paranormal and alternate history. If you like the kind of characters you can cheer for and the sort of story that will keep you up late into the night, then this is the journey for you. 


Kieran raised his head to the ceiling and lights.
Unlike other parts of the cafeteria where fluorescent tubes hung in rows, the independent lounge of the First Seat was smaller, so the lights used were two ceiling lamps.
Brighter light allowed Kieran to scan the whole ceiling quickly, but there wasn't anything suspicious!
However, Kieran would never think his Intuition was wrong.
With his Spirit reaching V-rank, a wrong perception was impossible for Kieran, unless someone purposely misguided him. 
But as his Intuition reached Advance Rank, such 'misguiding' became harder.
Kieran's left index finger tapped on the table as he fell into deep thought.
While he was thinking, the set meals he ordered were served.
"Hello, sir. Three Set A meals, three Set B meals, and three Set C meals."
The server had to run back and forth nine times before he could carry all Kieran's orders and serve them on the table.
Set A was roast beef with potato and salad together with rice and egg soup.
Set B was braised pork in brown sauce, fruit salad, and rice plus a carbonated drink.
Set C was mixed vegetable stew, chicken salad, rice, and a bowl of meat soup.
Kieran arranged all nine sets into three rows and three columns in front of himself, took the chopsticks, and ate like a tornado.
Although it was just cafeteria food, it was still tasty.
The potatoes were soft, the portions of beef were tender, the braised pork wasn't oily, and the vegetables were fresh and crispy.
The server had not left after he served the food, he stood there blanky and watched Kieran eat, as if he was frightened by how Kieran ate.
However, when Kieran finished his food, put down the chopsticks, and looked up to the ceiling once more, the server showed a wicked smile.
A glaring ax appeared in his hand. He raised it and swung it towards Kieran's neck.
Suddenly, a hungry growl entered the server's ear, followed by saliva swallowing noise.
The sudden noise stunned him at the spot with his ax raised high, he turned his neck around stiffly.
"Nooo!" A horrifying scream came from the server, but it quickly stopped.
Only chewing noises were heard after that.
…
"This is too scary!"
"There are such rumors in the cafeteria?"
Standler was walking back to his dorm with Maica beside him. He was still reading the notebook that he bought earlier, and when he reached a specific part, he gasped.
Standler spilled the beans even without Maica asking.
"The Beheader is in the cafeteria! If you are the 3,000th person to walk into the cafeteria that day, order nine servings of food, and look up to the ceiling, it will appear beside you and chop of your head with an ax! This is scary!" Standler whispered out of shock.
"How scary is it? It's just some random story to frighten people like you! Aside from the fact that there aren't 3,000 students dining in the cafeteria every day, who'd order that much food in the first place? And when you eat, you lower your head, you don't look up!" Maica showed a disdainful look.
Maica had never believed the occasional tales of the mysterious Theorate his roommate told him, what library interrogator, cafeteria beheader, all those were stories made up by dull students to frighten others. 
He didn't care for such stories, and he compared them to bedtime stories. He thought his roommate should be concerned about other things.
"Don't you think you should train yourself better? You are lucky that you got knocked out last night, but what about the next?" Maica's personality had turned him into a straightforward person. He would not hide or take turns, so he was destined to offend a lot of people with his hurtful words, but sometimes he would make some decent friends as well, like Standler, who was an easy-going person.
"I'll be careful next time." Standler closed his notebook and scratched his head awkwardly.
Standler was really frightened by the incident last night, but until now, he couldn't think of any good idea to deal with it.
Maica turned to his roommate, but he only sighed helplessly in the end.
"Let me teach you some basic combat moves. I'll train with you every day for one hour before sleep," Maica said.
"But I want to read before I sleep… O-Okay." When Standler caught Maica's less than friendly gaze, he changed his answer right away.
"But I think the things written in this notebook should be real. I've read a lot recently, and I found out there are indeed incidents that happened in the library and cafeteria, it's exactly like what the notebook says!" Standler shifted the topic back to his stories again.
"Well, of course! They were made up after those actual incidents, it's more realistic that way, and it's easier to scare people like you! If you don't believe me, you can find the scariest one in the notebook that requires two people, and I'll go test it with you so you can see how lame you are," Maica showed even more disdain.
"The scariest… Huh! Got it! The weeping gymnasium! Two people are required to be there at midnight…"
"It's settled, then. We'll go there this weekend." Before Standler could finish, Maica waved his hand to show his agreement and hastened his steps.
Maica knew how silly those stories were in his roommate's notebook, just like how he knew the night at Theorate was dangerous.
The night wasn't something a freshman could handle, and even a 3rd year had to be careful.
Of course, there were exceptions.
For some reason, Maica thought of the outrageous First Seat that he served, and the corner of his mouth couldn't help but twitch. He pulled along his slow roommate and hurried back to their dorm.
Soon, the day turned dark.
The cafeteria provided three basic meals every day but not supper. Before the sun fully set, the workers in the underground kitchen already started to leave.
Therefore, a moment before dark, the cafeteria was empty, and like any other building, it would always fall into darkness, but not today.
The lights at the First Seat lounge were opened.
After placing all nine trays into the sink, Kieran went back to his seat. He looked up to the ceiling again. He then looked back down at the dining table, and his mind started to spin.
"Look up at the ceiling when one should eat with his heads down?
Secret in the ceiling?
No, that's not right, the key point should be… eating!"


Welcome to a virtual underground game with no protection, full of lurking players who seek survival, power, and fortune. Kieran chose to enter this VRMMORPG game without hesitation, because he knew this was the only way for him to escape death’s grasp. Can he escape death in real life though, or will he end up dying inside the game? 

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