Tag Archives: Advent Ghost Stories

A Warning, an Advent Ghost Story

He sees you when you’re sleeping. You say that in a song.  

I’d think you’d take the hint by now. It shouldn’t take this long. 

You’re not going to catch him.  You don’t know where to start. 

You think you can, but you don’t know the secret to his art. 

He’ll dodge a fire roaring. He’ll see the traps you make. 

He’ll swap your poisoned Christmas treats with ones your kids might bake. 

And then he’ll drag you from your bed and put you in his sack. 

He’ll take you to his workshop. You’re never coming back. 

Good night now. 


This bit of silliness is a 100-word story for Loren Eaton’s Advent Ghost Story fest. Click that link for more and better tales by other writers.

Photo: “Cookies” by Katrin Gilger is licensed under CC BY-SA 2.0.

The Dreaded Trip

Bobby buries himself in the closet and puts his Hansel bear between him in the door. Mother won’t find him—won’t take him away.  

“Where are you, Bob?” she calls. 

He closes his eyes to make himself invisible, but the door slides open, she grabs his legs, and out he goes. 

“It’s time to go to Grandma’s, you plump kid.” 

Now bound in his car seat, whimpering, Bobby sees the fetid river, the deadened wood, and the approaching bread-colored, pock-marked house with striped poles and the billowing chimney of Grandma’s monstrous oven. His sister never came back. Why should he? 

(This flash fiction is part of Loren Eaton’s shared storytelling for 2021. Go there to read more 100-word, Christmastime, ghost stories.)

Stay, a Flash Fiction

He set his mug on the former family table near the one that was already there. Poured coffee in both and spooned a dried red-green spice mix into hers.

Her shivering hands gripped the other mug, skin sagging by the knuckles, nails long and intertwining. She spoke in tremorous tones through slack lips.

“She cannot come back.”

He lifted the mug, her hands locked around it, to her mouth to guide the potion in.

“Binding me . . . won’t bring her back.”

His heavy sigh could have broken glass. “You took her from me,” he muttered, “but you didn’t intend to stay?”

This flash fiction story was written for Loren Eaton’s Advent Ghost Storytelling.

The Master Ghost-Storyteller

Lored Eaton is lining up another round of scary ghost stories for the most wonderful time of the year. I plan to contribute one, which you’ll find here on December 19. I hope you enjoy it; feel free to say you don’t.

One of the masters of the ghost story is M.R. James (1862-1936). His tales have been adapted for the BBC many times, though not this year according to The Critic.

Many of his tales originated from being read to favoured students or pupils around his study fire in the winter, or from told as Christmas Eve entertainments for his friends. Although not all of them followed the same formula, there were several ingredients that can be regarded as quintessentially “Jamesian”, and which constitute the archetypal festive ghost story.

The protagonist of his tales is usually a learned man and a bachelor, as James himself was, who is not an especially clubbable or sociable figure, but makes up for his slight misanthropy with a great love of books and manuscripts. He often finds himself in an unusual setting, such as an abbey library or in a quiet seaside town, and stumbles upon some document or artefact that has the unforeseen effect of unleashing supernatural powers upon him.

(via Prufrock News)

What’s Under the Tree?

Pre-wrapped gifts are essential, or her little darling will pitch a fit.

She shoulders the door open, her arms stretched around sparkling presents, hoping this will be the last gift run of the year.

She hears a tiny voice singing by the fir tree, plucking each word, “You better watch out.”

Unloading her packages on the floor, she glances at her blotchy-faced, wild-eyed child, whose ruddy fingers like tentacles clutch the nearest branch, corrupting the evergreen with an insatiable, yellowing appetite, as the little darling jabs at gifts with a candy cane, shaking the tree with each word—mine, mine.

(Written for the Advent Ghost Story Fest)

He Sees You When You’re Sleeping

The bundle bounces against Hayk’s back as he dashes behind houses. Barely a mark on the shadows, he slips in through crack and out by door with another name scratched off his list. But what did he care for a list? He’d take anyone.

Whimpering cries tumble from his sack as he hurtles a fence.

“Back to Hayk’s mine!”

Crash!

He breaks against a snarling mastiff with dawn in his eyes, who grabs his leg and flings him into the trees, scattering children across the yard.

With guttural barks, the dog drives them, bruised and wailing, back to their homes.

(This is one of many 100-word stories offered for I Saw Lightening Fall’s Advent Ghosts 2015. Many more stories through the link, including Lars’ story earlier this month, and my past contributions can be found under the content tag “flash fiction.”)

Advent Ghost Stories 2014

“There’ll be scary ghost stories and tales of the glories of Christmases long. long ago.”

Loren Eaton hosts another round of ghost stories centered on Christmastime. There are many here, and Loren has a couple himself. Note this one called “Elizabeth.” Enjoy and post your comments.

Holiday Shopping with a Smile

Libby’s famous smile flickers when she sees another woman smile from the opposite escalator with a wide, toothy grimace.

“A face only a mother would love,” she mutters, striding over to the next mall store with extended sales. She smiles at the cashier. He grins back, his ears vanishing behind a wall of gleaming teeth.

Forgetting everything now, she hurries back into a suddenly manic throng, passing from leer to leer as other shoppers direct her to the fire-lit house built with toys. Waifs grab her hands and pull her to an enormous, red man with a wide, open mouth.

(Written for Loren Eaton’s 2013 Advent Ghost Storytelling Fest)

Family Reunion: Advent Ghosts 2012

“Not this again!” William growls.

The traditional roasted chicken and dressing, gravy, green beans, and corn sit steaming on the table while his wife glides about the room, bringing honeyed ham, broccoli casserole, rolls and muffins, tomato and squash soups—everything as overabundantly perfect as it had been every Christmas. Beautiful, but ethereal.

His sons and daughter, their bodies scorched from the fire three years ago, quietly urge him to eat “to forget this weary world.”

Eyes burning, he throws a coat over his pajamas and stumbles into the icy street. His wife follows with a cup of flaming cider.

(Index of all stories submitted to the Advent Ghosts Storytelling Fest)

Fourth Annual Advent Ghosts Storytelling

Loren Eaton refers to the beautiful aurora in northern-most and southern-most skies, which is one of the cool aspects of the new Angry Birds Seasons update, but I don’t plan to talk about that here. I wanted to announce my participation in Loren’s shared storytelling event, Advent Ghost 2012. We will be posting our 100-word stories on our respective blogs on Saturday, December 22, and Loren will link to all of them on his blog. I’ll be sure to link to this indexing post too. Now, you have something to look forward to. There’s no need to thank me.

You can read past stories for this event and other flash fiction I’ve posted in our Creative Writing category.