You live a safe but dreary life as a servant of Leadmere Manor, the seat of an old and powerful family. One day you stumble upon the chance at an impossible adventure, but you must choose your path carefully

You run down, deeper into the dark, resisting the urge to go up towards the light, for that is where your captors dwell. At the beginning of your descent there are stairs, but soon you are stumbling through

A trip deep below, along an uncertain path, does not sound inviting to either of you. Rather than risk it, you wait until well after dark and slink through the shadows of the city. Luck is with you and

Instead of moving towards them, you duck into the shadowed areas of the stone arcade and slip through the first doorway you find. You run and whisper out to the voice you heard earlier, but it does not

By @f3nix In the eyes of the couple, the slate-paved street of the village revealed a cornucopia of crafts, sweets and jubilant peasants. Along the noisy main street, colourful festoons hung from the balconies

You follow them up two flights and enter a wondrous room, with a large domed ceiling above. Although the bulb-shaped cupola has no windows the interior is well-lit, very different from the yellowed gas

You walk towards the beckoning figures. The strange voice calls your name again but you hurry away. When you draw closer you are a little awed by the regal aspect of the man and woman in front of you.

You step forward and nearly trip over the forgotten tablecloth. It no longer seems important and you let it drop to the ground. There is a faint path through the grass and you take a few tentative steps

No matter how inviting the scene is, those claw marks serve as warning. You step behind the door and must push hard to move it back in place. It’s a relief when you hear it click shut. “You nearly closed

Picture from Mariusz Matuszewski and Johannes Plenio. The sound of the boys arguing was getting to be too loud for Brian to keep ignoring. He’d already shouted out twice for them to knock it off, but it

The 24 hour short story challenge (But you'll get a little more time than that...)  I am fascinated by science fiction writer Harlan Ellison writing short stories in a book store window.  He

The day opens up very much like yesterday. The sky is clouded and dour, damping down the already weak dawn light and making it feel earlier, which is already too early to be up and about. But that’s life

It’s a low resolution clip, not meant to be played on such a large screen. The camera circles a woman’s face as she stares ahead calmly. When it passes right in front, so that she’s looking towards the

It’s always a race against time. We could spend all day arguing whether it’s best to shape it into a slim column first or press downwards into the cone, but when it’s hot enough out none of us will escape

The outline of the door is obscured by ivy, but the sharp-eyed and curious will sometimes catch a glimpse of the knob, if the light falls on it the right way. Not that it’s bright and shiny. Time has dulled

They first met by chance over a folding table full of ancient Geiger counters. Both reached for the same one and recoiled at the unexpected feel of warm skin. They started the careful dance of tense civility

“It’s been a year since my last confession.” She thought she heard a sharp intake of breath on the other side. “A year of lust, adultery, fornication. Even now, when I should be contrite, I can feel his

Genjo aimed the Airski4000 straight for one of the thick steel beams that held up the monorail. At the last possible second before its anti-collision override kicked in he veered 90 degrees to the left.

“I wish you wouldn’t cry all over my shoulder like that.” Marcella lifted her head slowly, so that when she next sniffled it happened right next to her mother’s ear. Even half-deaf, the old woman recoiled

This story was written for @mctiller's 24 Hour Short Story Contest based on the prompt: A man who doesn't believe in ghosts checks into a mental hospital that has been closed for twenty years. Spooooky!