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Paranormal Scares

Paranormal Scares

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53 Chapters
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This is a Collection of short horror stories which includes the bestselling short story House Of Horror and Find Me. House Of Horror- When Mathew Hansen first heard the disembodied voice of a woman through the wall of his new London flat, he thought he imagined it. Mind playing tricks, in a flat that settled and creaked like an old woman. Or maybe too much booze fuelling his nightmares. The voice couldn’t be real; just the wind, moving around the old Victorian house. Besides, his bangable neighbour Amanda couldn’t hear the strange chanting sounds. She was just messing with him when she said she did. A little payback for sleeping with her and never calling her back. It must be his imagination. Right? Find Me- With no one to believe her, Mia finds herself thrust from college and into her deceased Grandmother's decrepit home. Returning to the place she swore she'd never return, her haunting childhood comes back with a vengeance. Forced to stay in the deadly house, will she uncover the house's haunting past before it's too late? What bone chilling secrets does the house hide? Mirror Mirror- Skylar finds herself in a horrible accident, one that changes her life. She is forced to move and live with her aunt. Skylar's aunt thinks she is going crazy. As events unfold, Skylar must fight for her life. Will her aunt believe her? Skylar is sure that there is something in the attic. That something wants her dead. And more!!

Chapter 1 House Of Horror 1

House of Horror

Matthew Hansen spun around, mentally scanning the room. Where the hell was that coming from? By the sound of the howls and cries, hell seemed a good guess and a cold sweat dripped down his back at the thought. Maybe it was that girl he had picked up from the night club playing some bad joke on him. Then again the noises had started a few days ago so it couldn’t be her. He had thrown her out as he was in no mood for a sleepover. The girl had looked at him with wide disbelieving eyes, and then her look turned to hatred. Not that it bothered him; of course, she was just a bit of fun. Matthew slammed the door in her face and didn’t give her a second thought.

But as he padded back to his bedroom, the cries had started. Voices started to float from the walls, slow and barely audible at first, and then they became faint mumbles. Matthew couldn’t make out what was being said, but from their high pitched timbre he thought they were female voices. When the heartfelt pleas began to echo throughout his room, as if they were bouncing off his walls, he sprang into action and darted out of the bedroom.

The door to the kitchen banged shut with so much force the entire living room shook and pictures fell from the walls. For a moment, he was paralyzed by fear, watching helplessly as his home became a nightmare. Dread crept over him like an icy chill and numbed his brain. He told himself that this wasn't happening. It wasn’t real. Deep inside, he knew that was not true. He tried to convince himself that he had drunk too much, but he knew that was a lie.

Then the walls started to decay. Cracks appeared and the plaster became chipped and worn. The cream paintwork turned dull, caked with grime. Debris was scattered on the floor and he found himself standing in a place that looked like his flat, but also, like a long ago abandoned building. He opened and closed his eyes a few times, but everything was still the same. His once familiar home had somehow gotten lost in time.

His body felt like stone and was rooted to the ground. The terror he felt locked him in place as things in the room moved and danced in the air. He heard a loud rumble and what sounded like a crack of a whip coming from the walls, followed by a high-pitched scream.

That was when the adrenaline seared through his veins and kicked his brain into action. He ran for the door. Matthew didn’t know what was causing this madness or what it wanted. He knew one thing. He didn’t want to find out. In his haste to get out, he almost ran into the door of his flat, tripping over the clutter on his way. The panic he felt inside made his swift movements clumsy. The hairs on the nape of his neck stood on end and his stomach spun out of control with fear.

Matthew pulled and yanked at the door, but it seemed to be glued in place. Then the feral noises stopped and at the same moment, the door burst open, sending him reeling backwards. It took him a moment to gain his bearings, and then he barrelled out of the flat and into the communal corridor. In horror, he flinched as the door slammed shut behind him. For a moment he thought he heard a woman laughing, but the sound vanished so quickly he wasn’t sure.

The corridor was still intact and looked the way it had always been, narrow giving off a sense of claustrophobia. The white washed walls could do with a clean, but were otherwise in perfect shape. He just couldn’t understand what was happening anymore. For the past three days, he had been hearing wailings and howling from somewhere close by, like someone was crying hysterically. When he had gone in search of the noise, he found out that it was echoing through the walls in the whole flat. It was as though the cries were translating through the walls, echoing back and forth endlessly. He was scared, but most of all, he thought he had begun to go crazy. The strange noises were louder and stronger in his bedroom, and they always seemed to start from in there and then follow him from room to room. This time, it had gotten worse. The flat had transformed in front of his eyes. He was sure he was hallucinating. He had to be, there was no other possible explanation for the strange happenings. Except one.

Out of breath and his mind a jumbled mess, he stared at the door to his home, the place he had once thought of as his sanctuary. Now, it had become a place of horror and fear. He had never believed in ghosts or the supernatural, and was struggling with the idea, but it was either that or believe he was losing his mind.

He had no choice; he needed answers. He would have to ask his crazy neighbour if the same thing was happening in her flat. Now that he had left his flat, he heard nothing. The confusion he felt mingled with his terror as he listened for any sound of the voices. A fleeting thought crossed his mind. It was quiet now, he had just imagined it all, he should go back in. Afraid he might act on the impulse, he took a few steps back and shook the thought away.

Matthew waited for some time. The corridor was quiet. There was a little beam of moonlight streaking in through the panelled window at the end of the narrow hall. The dirty walls were filled with shadows in the places where the light didn’t reach. This made him feel even more paranoid. His eyes scanned every inch, looking for anything moving or changing.

But nothing did.

Slowly the fear receded a little and he began to feel a bit foolish standing outside his flat in the dark, being frightened by shadows. He was just thinking about going back in, when he heard his neighbour still talking to herself. It was past midnight, but he decided that he should just see her and confirm his suspicions that he was going crazy. He wasn’t looking forward to seeing her. However, she was the only person that was close enough for him to talk to-to voice his suspicions. What was her name? Amanda- that was it, Amanda Pratt. He took deep breaths to calm his racing heart, and tried to school his face. He didn’t want to let her know how scared he had been. For this insane conversation to go well, he would have to look casual.

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