Once again, I’m taking part in Loren Eaton’s Advent Ghosts shared storytelling event. The premise is simple: tell a creepy or ghostly tale in exactly 100 words.
My contribution this year is called Moaning Stones.
Carol singers? He’d chosen the cottage to escape everyone, all that hassle and fun. Rented a converted barn set amid lonely moors, miles from everywhere. He’d liked the name too: Moaning Stones. Some nonsense about the nearby circle and legends of ghosts or devils or whatever the hell it was. People were idiots.
It wasn’t even good singing. Five figures wavered through the frosted glass. The tuneless dirge was more like … breathing. Or wailing. Did they expect money? Food? They didn’t even have lights. They just stood, waiting.
The door handle was weirdly, icily cold as he grasped it.
For more hundred-word advent ghost stories, check out Loren’s blog.
Merry Christmas and Happy New Year, all! As the man said, let’s hope it’s a good one, without any fear.