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A Haunting Untouchable

Horrifying Tales of Haunted Places-(Moved to a New Link)

Horror stories written by Joseph Kohtz The Ghoulish Haunted Mansion: On Halloween, a group of kids decides to go inside an old abandoned mansion to see if it's haunted and end up getting scared out of their minds by all sorts of monsters and ghosts. While inside, the kids meet up with a talking cat and jack-o-lantern who try to protect them from the spirits and try to convince one of them to read a spell from a book to get rid of the ghosts. Return to The Ghoulish Haunted Mansion: On a field trip, Susan Piper takes her class to The Wellington Mansion and tells them how it was haunted before she got rid of the ghosts a decade ago on Halloween with her friends' help. She also told her class how to re-haunt the house and warned them not to do so. The next day, on Halloween, six of Susan's students enter the mansion, bring the ghosts and monsters back, and get scared out of their wits. Jack, the jack-o-lantern who knew their teacher, protects them with help from Alvin, the ghost puppy, and tries to convince Victoria to read the same spell Susan read when she was in the mansion to get rid of the ghosts. The Spooky Halloween Sleepover in The Haunted Woods: After a few of their friends go missing, a group of kids investigates The Dead Woods to find them. While there, they run into monsters and ghosts that pick them off. Since their friends are disappearing, they decide to have a sleepover in the haunted woods until they find their friends, but they soon all go missing after the hauntings get worse. Fear Itself: After being told a ghost story around the campfire, a group of kids who go to a camp gets scared to death while ghosts and monsters haunt the camp and forest. They get scared, but some think it's all a prank by one of the counselors at first, even when the campers and the counselors start to get picked off one by one. Even though things look bad, some campers still think it's a fraud, at least until things get worse. Because the longer they stay and ignore the ghosts' warnings, the worse the hauntings get. Then they become convinced and start to get scared out of their wits.
Joseph_Kohtz · 25.5K Views

A Woman Without a Mask

At 28, Clara Hayes has mastered the art of wearing masks. To her colleagues, she’s the perpetually cheerful graphic designer who never misses a deadline. To her overbearing mother, she’s the dutiful daughter hiding her anxiety behind polished smiles. To the world, she’s a woman who “has it all together”—except she’s crumbling inside. Clara’s life unravels during a corporate presentation where a panic attack strips her façade raw. Humiliated and exhausted, she flees to a quiet coastal town, renting a cottage owned by an eccentric, free-spirited potter named Marisol. There, Clara stumbles upon a dusty journal in the attic, its pages filled with haunting sketches and anonymous confessions from a woman who once lived there decades earlier. The entries mirror Clara’s own suffocating duality: “I paint myself in colors the world approves of, but my soul is a grayscale.” As Clara tentatively befriends Marisol and a reclusive widower, Eli, who runs the town’s crumbling bookstore, she begins confronting the lies she’s told herself for years. Through their unconventional guidance—and the journal’s cryptic wisdom—she starts shedding her masks one by one. But vulnerability comes at a cost: her corporate career teeters, her mother’s disapproval intensifies, and a buried trauma from her teenage years resurfaces, threatening to drown her newfound courage. When Clara’s raw, unfiltered artwork—created in secret—goes viral, she faces a choice: return to the safety of her old illusions or step into the terrifying freedom of living unapologetically. But the journal hides a final secret, linking Clara’s journey to the cottage’s mysterious past, forcing her to question whether true authenticity is a rebellion… or a homecoming.
Daoist5CDTxH · 1.7K Views

His Untouched Devotion (BL)

The sacred chamber was dimly lit, the scent of incense curling in the air like whispers of forgotten prayers. His breath came uneven, his hands trembled at his sides as he stared at the man before him—the warrior who should not have been here. "You shiver so easily," the warrior murmured, his voice dark, teasing. Tempting. His fingers brushed over the fine silk of the priest’s robe, not quite touching—just a whisper of heat, but enough to unravel him. "D-Don’t," he breathed, stepping back, but the warrior followed. "Don’t what?" The smirk in his voice was maddening. Mocking. Dangerous. "You know what exactly you are doing. This is unacceptable..." The warrior closed the space between them and placed his finger on his lips, causing his body to tremble. His throat bobbed. The rules of the sect were clear. He was supposed to be untouchable—unblemished in body and soul, a perfect example of godliness and pureness. And yet… "I can hear your heartbeat." The warrior leaned in, the tip of his nose barely grazing his jaw. Too close. "So wild… tell me, is it fear or something else?" His lips parted, but the words died on his tongue when strong hands found his wrist, tugging him forward, pressing him flush against the heat of his body. A sharp gasp escaped him. "Let me go," he whispered pleadingly. "Then go," the warrior challenged, loosening his grip—but his body refused to move. A sinful chuckle brushed against his ear. "See? You don’t want to leave." "I do." The lie burned his tongue. "Then why are you not?" A strangled sound escaped him as warmth pooled in his core—something he never should have felt. Something he never knew he could feel. His knees buckled, but before he could fall, strong arms caught him. Held him. Claimed him. "Look at you," the warrior hummed, his voice thick with something dangerous. "I barely touched you, and you’re already breaking. Doesn't this mean something to you, my moonflower?" The warrior looked into the divine one's eyes and noticed the change of color in his eyes which made him smirk as if he had gotten his lucky shot. His gaze darkened in return, sharp with an incomprehensible hunger and before the priest could utter another world, his lips were claimed. A single tear slipped free, rolling down his cheek—a silent surrender. He just couldn't do it. He couldn't fight against this burning desire in him anymore. He was just going to let it be—whatever would happen should happen. The warrior hummed in satisfaction at the taste of the divine one, his grip tightening. A gasp was swallowed whole as the warrior’s mouth moved against his, devouring, demanding, tasting. Heat licked down his spine, a fire awakening within him, spreading through his veins like an unspoken prophecy. "So beautiful," the warrior murmured against his lips before diving back in, stealing another kiss—deeper, rougher, hungrier. He was an angel worth sinning for. The Priest's fingers clutched at the fabric between them, desperate, lost, drowning. The world outside ceased to exist. Only this moment remained. Only this touch, this heat—this forbidden, maddening desire. And as the flames outside flickered wildly in the night, so too did he burn. . . . . Y'all, this picture was gotten from Pinterest. I only changed the names and added little design. I do not originally own it. Thank you.
IJE_5 · 558 Views
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