Short Horror stories

It wasn’t a little girl

My husband, his family, and I were camping at a secluded lake in New Mexico with about 10 people in our group. Another group of six people was camping nearby. As we were enjoying activities like making s'mores and telling stories at night, we all heard what seemed like a young girl crying for help. Despite none of us having kids with us, we were certain we heard a child and decided to search together where the noises were coming from.

Behind our campsite, there was a field where we spotted a very tall, completely white figure standing about 100 feet away, making strange noises. We all observed this figure, which appeared to be around 6 feet tall, slender, and extremely pale. As we approached to get a closer look, it began to retreat and eventually vanished into the trees. Throughout the night, we were disturbed by the sound of a young girl's voice calling for help as we attempted to sleep.

The walking dead

I used to work as a psychiatric nurse, and early on in my career, I was employed at a residential mental health facility. One of the residents there was a selective mute, which means he chose not to speak despite having no medical reason for it. He had been able to speak in the past and appeared normal, aside from his towering height of nearly seven feet. Originally from the Deep South, he had enlisted in the military at 19 before suddenly disappearing one night. He was listed as AWOL, and later presumed missing and presumed dead.

A decade later, a man who was seven feet tall entered an emergency room at a VA Hospital in the Midwest region where I live and told the receptionist, "I am Marion Duchene (a fake name), and I have been deceased for ten years."

Those were the last words he ever spoke.

He was dusty and still in the same outfit he was last seen wearing before disappearing. He did not have any identification on him, but they were able to identify him through his fingerprints. Although his family was notified, they insisted that they had already mourned his loss and believed the person claiming to be him was not genuine. They asked not to be contacted again.

Marion spent all day every day pacing around, constantly moving his mouth as if he were speaking or muttering, but no sound would come out. He had a disconcerting tendency to suddenly throw his head back, appearing to laugh heartily, yet no sound would accompany it. When I spoke to him, he would seem to listen, occasionally throwing his head back in that strange imitation of laughter.

Different drugs were tested, but they had no impact on him, either good or bad. Occupational therapy was ineffective because Marion would only smile and, if not instructed to stay still, he would stand up and resume walking around.

On my final day at that job, the final image I have is of Marion pacing in the parking lot, throwing his head back in what seemed like a forced laugh. In retrospect, I pondered if I had been interacting with a ghost all along. Even now, many years later, I am still uncertain.