EPISODE 19 HALLOWEEN STORIES read on HALLOWEEN

We read stories from witcheslore.com.  13 Halloween stories to give a great spooky vibe to the holiday.  from a scary closet, a freaky antique mirror, to the classic babysitter scary figure in the windows.  it was fun reading the stories for your enjoyment. 

This podcast is hosted by Apryl Gregory and Tess Gregory.
Let us know of any stories you have, and questions, or suggestions for episodes. We would love to hear from you just Email us at Holisticsecretspodcast@gmail.com. You can also email us if you would like a distance Reiki session with Tess.


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Transcript

0:06

Welcome to holistic secrets podcast. Where we will guide you to reveal the secrets that aren't always shared join us. As we help you gain an understanding of spiritual world with me Apryl. And with me Tess. Let's dive and do it. Hi, everyone. Thanks for coming back to holistic secrets. Today's Halloween. And we were. Going to be reading some stories from a witch's laura.com. Really hope you enjoy them. Today is Southwind. Is not pronounced Sam Hain. It is sounding. And today is the day that. The veil. Thins. And you can talk to other people on the other side, other dimensions. And. You can be. Closer to your loved ones. So we have 13 stories today. To read. And, the first one is the watcher at the window. It was Halloween night. And Lily was babysitting her neighbors' kids. In their quiet, suburban home. It's always the babysitter. The streets were filled with trick or treaters, the house was buzzing with excitement. After the children went to bed. Lilly settled in for a quiet night in front of the TV. The house was large with plenty of windows. And every, so often she thought she saw something. Or someone outside. Dismissing it as nothing. She continued watching her show. Though a strange unease. Began creeping up her spine. An hour later, the doorbell rang. She hesitated. As all the children had gone home by now. But maybe it was a late night trick or treater. She opened the door. But no one was there. Her stomach tightened. Then from the corner of the eye, she saw it. Uh, pale face in the window, staring in at her. She. Jumped back. Slamming the door. Shutting it and locking it. Her heart raced. But then she peered through the window again. The figure was going. The hours ticked by, but that unease feeling never left. Finally, when the parents came home. Lily quickly explained what had happened. They turn pale. An exchange, nervous glances. We've seen him too. They whispered. But he only shows up on Halloween. Lily never returned to that house. And the parents moved out soon after. To this day. No one knows who. Or what the watcher really is. Maybe it's Michael Myers. The next story. The hunting at hollow hill. There was a local legend. In the small town of hollow hill. They said that every Halloween. The spirit of a girl named Sarah. Who had died in the woods years ago? Were returned to seek. Revenge on anyone foolish enough to wander near her grave. Alex and his friends, of course. Didn't believe in such things. So on Halloween night. They decided to hike up to Hala hill. For our laugh. Armed, but flashlights and courage, they set out for the graveyard that was rumored to be haunted. The woods were eerily quiet as they climbed. And the path was overgrown. And hard to follow. The deeper they went. The that girl, the FOD became. Until it felt like they were waiting through a cloud. Finally, they reached the old cemetery. The gravestones were weathered and crooked, but one stood out. An old stone cross covered in Moss. This must be Sarah's grave one of them said with a smirk. They gathered around it. Taunting the legend. Daring Sarah spirit to show itself. Just as they were about to leave. The wind picked up. Their flashlights flickered. Uh, low mournful wail. Echoed through the trees. Alex turned. And for a split second. He saw her. Uh, pale figure. In a white dress. Her face. Twist it in rage. Standing at the edge of the woods. The figure raised a hand. Pointing directly at them. Panic set in. And they bolt it back down the hill. But no matter how fast they ran, they could still hear that wailing cry. Growing louder with every step. They never spoke of that night again. But Alex swears, he can still hear her voice on cold windy nights. The forgotten room. It was late autumn. When Katie and her family moved into the old house on maple street. The house had been making for years. And though it was charming in a rundown sort of way. It had an unsettling atmosphere. From the moment they stepped inside. Katie couldn't shake the feeling that they weren't alone. The house was large. With endless hallways and rooms. But there was always one room that was always locked. A small door. In the basement that wouldn't budge, no matter how hard they tried to open it. Weeks past. And strange things began happening. Objects moved on their own. Doors creaked open in the middle of the night. And the temperature would drop suddenly. Even when the heater was on. One night. As Katie lay in bed. She heard a faint scratching sound coming from below. It was coming from the basement. Against her better judgment. She crypt downstairs. Flashlight in hand. Following the Erie noise. The scratching was louder now. Coming from behind that locked. Door. Her heart pounded as she approached. Suddenly the door flew open on its own. Revealing a cold dark room. Filled with old dusty furniture. And a large cracked mirror. Leaning against the wall. In the reflection, she saw something that made her blood run cold. A shadowy figure crouched in the corner. It's face twisted in agony. It's eyes black and hollow. It slowly turned to look at her. And before she could scream. The door slam shut behind her. Katie's parents found her the next morning. Unconscious on the basement floor. She refused to speak of what she saw, but they moved out within days. No one has been able to open that door since. And the house remains empty. Just like the forgotten room. That no one dares enter. That would just freak me out if that happened. To me. Just saying. Like I hear all kinds of stuff in my home. But they're not scary. But then too, I don't think I would go in a. Investigate by myself. The next story, the ghost in room four 13. It was late October when Jake and his friends decided to take a weekend trip. To our remote hotel, nestled in the mountains. The place was old and known for its haunted reputation. But they figured it was all part of the Halloween fun. The hotel staff seemed uneasy when they checked in. Especially when they were assigned room four 13. Are you sure you want that room? The clerk asked with a nervous glance. Jake shrugged it off. Laughing at the superstition. The room itself was ordinary. Except for the strange chill in the air. And the old cracked mirror on the wall. The first night was an eventful. But on the second night, Things took a dark turn. Jake woke up in the middle of the night shivering. Despite the heavy blankets. The air felt thick. The room was eerily silent. That's when he noticed it. To reflection in the mirror. At first, he thought it was a trick of light. But as he stared. He realized there was a figure standing in the corner. Of the room. Watching him. It's eyes were dark sunken pits. And its mouth hung open. In a silent screen. Jake's breath caught in his throat. As the figure, move towards him. Gliding silently across the floor. Frozen in terror. He watched as it raised a bony finger. And pointed directly at him. Then just as suddenly as it appeared. It was gone. The next morning. Jake told his friends what he had seen. But they laughed it off. That night, however, the ghost returned. This time standing over his bed. It leaned down. It's face inches. From his. And whispered in a voice. That chilled him to the core. He leave. Jake didn't need to be told twice. They packed up and left the hotel before Dawn. But he still has nightmares. About the ghost in room four. 13. And he swears he'll never return to that place again. I always get weird vibes and weird feelings when I go to a hotel. Or a motel or anything like that. I always pick up. On all the energy. And everything that's there. So yeah, that one would, that would freak me out a little bit too. But then again, I don't go to haunted hotels. The crying woman. There's an old legend. In Samantha's town. About the crying woman. They say that late at night. Near the old bridge at the edge of town. You can hear her wailing. An eerie mournful cry that echoes through the trees. The story goes that years ago. A woman lost her child. In a tragic accident. Near the bridge. And she's been searching for him ever since. Skeptical of the legend. Samantha and her friends decided to go see. If the ghost was real. It was Halloween night. And the air was thick with fog as they approached the bridge. At first, everything was quiet. The only sound was the rustling of leaves in the breeze. But as they stood there, Waiting. They heard it. Uh, faint. Sobbing. Coming from beneath. The bridge. Samantha's stomach turned. The sobbing grew louder. More desperate. Until it was a full heart-wrenching and whale. Trembling, they shown their flashlights down into the darkness below. That's when they saw her. A woman in a tattered white dress. Her face hidden beneath a veil of dark wet hair. Stood at the edge of the water. Reaching out as if searching for something. Her cries were filled. With such sorrow that it made their heart sake. But then she turned. Her eyes hollow and lifeless locked onto Samantha's. And the wailing stopped. In the deafening silence that followed the woman's face twisted. Into a horrific grin. As she began to move towards them, her feet never. Touching the ground. They ran as fast as they could. The sound of her footsteps echoing behind them. Until they reached the safety of their car. They never spoke of the crying woman again. But sometimes late at night. Samantha swears she can hear. That mournful wail in the distance, calling out. For someone who will never return. I would be. Very distraught. If one of my kids. Was lost in a tragic accident. I would probably be walking back and forth, crying and wailing. For the rest of my existence. Here on earth. And on the other side. The man in the attic. Mark had always loved old houses. So when he found an affordable Victorian home, On the outskirts of town. He couldn't resist buying it. It needed some repairs. But he was excited to fix it up. The first for you weeks where peacefully enough. Though he kept noticing odd things. Adore, left a jar cold dress in rooms where no windows were open. The occasional Creek from the attic. He figured it was just the quirks of an old house. That was. Until we found the photograph. One day, right? Cleaning mark discovered at dusty old photo album sucked away. In a hidden corner of the attic. The pictures inside were faded. But one stood out. It was a family portrait. All smiles, except for one person. A man standing in the back. His face completely blurred. As if the camera. Had never been able to focus on him. That night mark couldn't shake the image from his mind. Okay. As he laid in bed. A faint creaking sound came from above. Slow and deliberate. His eyes starting to the ceiling. The creaking continued. As though somebody was walking around the attic. Then came the unmistakable sound of footsteps. Descending the stairs. Heart racing. Mark grabbed his phone and dialed nine one one. But when the operator answer, there was only silence from the other end. His breath caught. One is when he realized his phone. Had no signal. The footsteps grew louder. Until they stopped just outside of his bedroom door. He could hear slow, raspy breathing. From the other side. Somebody in his courage, mark flung the door open. But the hallway was empty. He barely slept that night. And the next morning. He founded dusty hand print. On the attic door. It wasn't his. After that. The footsteps became a nightly occurrence. He sold the house within months, but every once in a while, He still hears those creeks, no matter where he is. The whispering closet. Emma moved into her new apartment, excited for a fresh start. The building was old, but charming. We're creaky floors and a slightly musty smell. That hinted at its long history. Everything seemed normal except for the closet in her bedroom. From the moment she moved in, she felt something was off about it. The door wouldn't stay closed, even when she shed it tightly. She would wake up. To find it slightly ajar. She shrugged it off as the building settling. But then the whispers began. Late at night, she lay in bed. Emma Wood here. Faint voices coming from the closet. Yeah. At first. She thought it was just the neighbors or the pipes. But the whispers were two distinct to deliberate. They sounded like two people having a conversation. Though she can never make out the words, her stomach nodded with unease. But she convinced herself it was her imagination. One night unable to sleep. Emma finally, decided to investigate. She opened the closet door. Half expecting to find nothing but her clothes and shoes. As she Romans through a cold gust of air, hit her. And the whispering. Grew louder. She stepped back. Her heart pounding. When she saw something in the corner. An old worn diary that hadn't been there before. Yeah, flipping it open. She saw pages filled with frantic scribbles. Warning about them. In the closet. Panicking Emma threw the diary back and slammed closet door shut. But the moment she turned around. She felt a presence behind her. Cold breath on her neck. The whispers turn to low grouse. And she froze in place. On able to move. She left the apartment the next day and never returned. Leaving everything behind. Including the whispering closet. And it starts secrets. The ghost train. In a small rural town. There was an old railway line. That hadn't been used in years. The tracks were overgrown with weeds and the station was abandoned. Its window shattered. And the platform crumbling. But locals knew better than to go near it at night. They whispered of the ghost train. Uh, spectral locomotive that appeared only on Halloween night. The story went that long ago. Uh, train had to railed on that line, killing everyone on board. Now once a year. The train returns. Carrying the souls of the lost passengers. Eric and his friends didn't believe in this story. Of course. So on Halloween night, they grabbed some beers and headed down to the tracks. Daring. Each other. To wait for the ghost train. They sat on the rest of platform, laughing and joking. The cold's October when biting at their skin. As the hours dragged on nothing happened. And they were ready to call it a night. But just as they stood to leave, they heard it. That distant whistle of a train. At first, they thought it was a prank. But the sound grew louder. And copied by the faint rumbling. Of wheels on tracks. In the distance, a glowing light appeared and to their shock. An old fashioned steam locomotive. Was coming straight towards them. It's massive engine shining under the full moon. The train was real. Except it wasn't. As it got closer. They could see the passengers through the window. Their faces pale and expressionless. I sunk in and hollow. The train. Screeched to a stop in front of them. But stores didn't open. Instead a chilling wind blew through. Carrying with it. The unmistakable smell of death. Eric's friends screamed and ran. But he was rooted to the spot. Staring. In horror. As one of the passengers. An old man. With sunken eyes. Raised a bony hint and pointed directly at him. The trains, whistle blared again. And before Eric could blink event. Into the night. Leaving nothing behind, but the faint sound. Of its haunting whistle. Eric never spoke of that night, but every Halloween. He makes short to be far from those tracks. He is certain that the ghost train will return. Maybe this time. For him. The shadow in the stairwell. Alissa never believed in ghosts, but her opinion changed. When she moved into her new apartment in an old historic building downtown. It's a building had seen better days. Uh, peeling wallpaper, creaky floors and dimly lit hallways. That seems to stretch on forever. The stairwell, however, was the worst. Every time she walked in it, she felt watched as though something was looking just at a site. One evening after returning late from work. Alyssa took the stairs up to her third floor apartment. As she reached the second floor landing. The light flickered and went out. Plunging this stairwell into darkness. That's when she heard it. Soft footsteps echoing from behind her. Slow and deliberate. She stopped. Her heart pounding. But the footsteps. Didn't. They grew louder coming closer. And so she could feel cold air brushing against the back of her neck. Panicked Alyssa turned, but no one was there. She raced up the stairs, reaching her apartment door. In a frenzy. But when she glanced back down this stairwell, her stomach dropped. Uh, tall shadowy figure stood at the bottom. Staring up at her. It's formed was human. But its face was a void of darkness. Impossible to make out. Frozen in fear. She watched, as it began ascending the stairs step. By step. With the same Erie, slow pace. She slammed her door shut and didn't leave her apartment for the rest of the night. After that. The stairwell became her nightmare. No matter when she used it. The shadow. What's always there. Watching. Waiting. She could hear it. Split steps, following her. It's presence growing colder. With each passing day. Alyssa moved out. After only three months, but she never stopped wondering. If the shadow steer lingered. Silently following the next tenant up the stairs. The girl in the mirror. Sarah loved antique shops. So when she found an ornate vintage. Mirror at a local store. She couldn't resist buying it. The mirror was beautiful. Tall with a thick gold frame covered in intricate Corbin's. The shopkeeper hesitated when Sarah asked about it, warning her that the mirror came from an estate sale. Where strange things had happened. But Sarah brushed it off. It's just another spooky story to scare buyers. Then night, she hung the mirror in her bedroom. It wasn't long before she noticed something was off. Every time she glanced into the mirror. She thought she saw something moving. Out of the corner of her eye. A flicker of movement, a shadow shifting behind her reflection. But when she looked closer, Uh, nothing was there. As days past the feeling of being watched grew stronger and she began to dread the mirror. Then came the night, she woke up to find her reflection. Wasn't her own. Sarah set up in bed, rubbing her eyes after waking from a restless sleep. Her heart nearly stopped when she glanced at the mirror. A young girl stood in her reflection. Dressed in a white Knight. Ghanim her hair tangled and wet. Her face pale and expressionless. The girls stared straight at Sarah. Her dark eyes, hollow and empty. Sarah turned to look behind her, but the room was empty. The girl only existed in the mirror. Terrified Sarah through a blanket. Over the mirror. And refuse to look at it again. But the girl wasn't zone with her. Every night. The sound of soft wit footsteps echoed from her bedroom. And she could feel the girls icy presence hovering near the bed. After weeks of torment, she got rid of the mirror returning it to the antique shop. But even after it was gone, Sarah couldn't shake the feeling of the girl was so watching her. Just out of sight. Um, take that heat, a warning. Especially if somebody tells you that it comes from. Uh, house where strange things happen. You're really got to watch the antique mirrors. I don't think I would buy one. The. tenant. David had always prided himself on being rational. As a landlord, he heard his fair share of tenant complaints, but nothing prepared him for what happened. At his newest property. Uh, small, charming house. On the edge town. The previous tenants had left abruptly, but David assumed it was just the natural ebb and flow of renters. He didn't think much of it until he started getting calls from the new tenant. A woman named Rachel. Rachel complained about strange noises in the house footsteps at odd hours. Doors, opening and closing. By themselves. The constant feeling of someone watching her. She even mentioned, hearing faint, whispering late at night. David brushed it off as nerves. But when she called him in tears one night claiming she seen a man standing at the foot of the bed. He knew he had to check it out. He arrived the next day and found the house eerily quiet. Rachel was gone, having packed her things and left overnight. David walked through the empty house, but nothing seemed out of the ordinary. Until he reached the back bedroom. The moment he stepped inside the air turned frigid. And a thick, oppressive feelings settled over him. His breath fogged in the air, as he noticed something strange. All of the bedroom furniture. Have been pushed against the walls. Leaving the center of the room. Bear. As he stood there trying to make sense of it. I did. Your creaked shut. Behind him. And a low whisper echo through the room. He spun around, but no one was there. The temperature dropped further and that's when he saw it. An imprint. On the bed. As though someone had just been lying there. The whispering grew louder. Unintelligible, but filled with malice. Suddenly the bed began to shake violently. And the door slammed open. As if some unseen force had enough of his presence. David fled the house. Never renting it out again. To this day. The property sits vacant. A for sale sign slowly. Decane in the front yard. But those who pass by swear, they've seen the shadowy figure. Standing in the bedroom window, watching them. As they walk by. Uh, haunting at Willow Creek. When Jacob and his family moved into the old farmhouse on Willow Creek road, they thought they had found their dream home. It was coined. Uh, surrounded by trees and miles from any neighbors. But from the moment they moved in, things were off. The air inside the house felt thick, almost stifling. And the constant creaks and groans of the floorboard seemed louder than they should have been. At first, it was a small things. The lights flickering in the middle of the night. Doors that wouldn't stay shut. And that I'm feeling of being watched. But the strangest thing was the room at the end of the hall. No matter how many times Jacob's wife, Sarah cleaned it. It always smelled like dampers. Third daughter, Lily, refuse to go near it. Claiming a woman in white stood in the corner, staring at her with hollow eyes. One night. Why laying in bed? Jacob woke to the sound of whispering. He thought it was Sarah, but when he turned, she was fast asleep. The whispering grew louder. Coming from the hallway. He got up following the eerie sound only to find the door to the room. At the end of the whole wide open. Inside the air was ice cold. The sense of cert was overwhelming. He hesitated. But stepped inside. The moment he did. The door slam shut behind him. In the darkness. Jacob could hear the sound of something dragging. Across the floor. His heart raced has a cold breeze. Brush past him. And suddenly he felt a hand. AC thin and boney. Wrapping around his wrist. He yanked his arm back stumbling towards the door, but the hand tightened its grip. Pulling him towards the center of the room. As he fought to escape, he saw her. The woman in white. Her face paling going. Her eyes sunken into her skull. And her mouth had twisted into a silent screen. She hovered just inches from his face, her cold breath, chilling him to the bone. He finally broke free. And we rushed out of the room. Slamming the door behind him. The whispering stopped. And the house. Definitely. Silent. Jacob never went back into that room. And a week later they moved out. After doing some research, he discovered that the house had once belonged to a woman. Who had disappeared under mysterious circumstances. Her body was never found. But local Lynch's said she was buried somewhere on the property. No one has lived in the house since, and those who pass by late at night swear, they can see a woman in white. Standing in the upstairs window. Waiting. For her next victim. The Halloween mask. Danny loved Halloween every year. He prided himself on having the scariest customer neighborhood. But this year he wanted something different, something terrifying. After weeks of searching, he stumbled upon a small dusty costume shop on the edge of town. Inside. He found an old grotesque mask tucked away in the corner. The shopkeeper Warren, Tammy. It was no ordinary mask. But Danny shrugged it off too excited by how perfectly horrifying it looked. That night he put on the mask and something strange happened. It felt cold against the skin and he could swear it tightened around his face. Almost like it was alive. But when he looked in the mirror, he couldn't help, but admire the terrifying reflection, staring back at him. As he walked through the streets, something strange began to happen. People weren't just scared of his costume. They were running in terror. He thought it was a great reaction, but then he felt it, the mask was tightening even more. He tried to pull it off, but it wouldn't budge. His heart pounded as panic set in. He yanked harder, but the mask was fusing with his skin. His scream for help was muffled and his vision blurred. In the reflection of the store window, he no longer saw his own face, but something monstrous, twisted and inhuman. But it's time. The night ended Danny was gone and in this place was something entirely out. Something else. Something that had warned him. As a costume. Well, that sounds like that womb ghost. Ah, ghost goosebumps. Movie, they did. The Halloween mask. That's interesting. That was a really scary. That was a scary movie for the kids. Back in the day. Those goosebumps shows. But I hope you enjoyed these 13 stories. And, um, I hope you have a great. Halloween. Hope your Turkey treating is fun. And I hope you have a. Happy. And we will be back next week. With another episode. Have a good night. thanks for listening to holistic secrets. If you have any questions or ideas for an episode, or you want to tell us a story that happened to you along your journey, email us@holisticsecretspodcastatgmail.com. I offer in-person and distant Reiki services. You can email Tess at Holisticsecretspodcast@gmail.com. help us spread the secrets by rating us five stars and telling all your friends about holistic secrets. Remember a secret shared is a secret. No more. And we'll see you next week here at holistic secrets.