Ghost Stories - Tumblr Posts

You know how CDawgVA used to do the in-character fan calls?

I've been wanting to do the same thing for years, but couldn't do any character voices.

However, I now have the ability to do a couple voices. Namely, Momoko from Ghost Stories.

I can also do-

Rengé from Ouran

Yuri Plisetsky from Yuri on Ice!!!

Nico from Devil May Cry V

Nagisa Shiota from Ass Class

Would anyone be interested in that, though?

I Miss My Ghost

I miss the ghost that stopped me on Felwinter Peak to thank me for being his friend and to reflect on our journey together

I miss the ghost who was excited by looking at a Vex Milk Waterfall

I miss the ghost who would make bad jokes after you beat public events

I miss the ghost that wondered if Ikora gave ghosts hugs for doing good jobs

I miss the ghost that thanked me for being his guardian and protecting him

I miss the ghost who got choked up over saying goodbye to Saint-14

I miss the ghost that would get annoyed when I would rush into danger just because he didn’t want me hurt

I miss the ghost who got annoyed when we called him little light

I miss the ghost who cheered after we took down the Gate Lord to the Black Garden

The ghost who cheered after every victory

The ghost who was so confident on his hacking skills he never needed an access key

The ghost who was so sheepish after he accidentally set stuff off

The ghost that believed in you till time itself would end

The ghost that knew you were going through tough battles but just wanted you to come out alive in the end

The ghost that was amazed at the world and what it was like before the collapse

The ghost that tried so hard to stay positive even though his source of life was gone and if you died, that would be the end of it, and that scarred him

The ghost that was so scarred yet so brave at the same time

The ghost whose curiosity outweighed his sense of danger

The ghost who rezzed me and was so happy he found me and I was alive

The ghost who was my friend

I miss my ghost

I will be reading this in the future and highly recommend you all do too. I started it and it's already amazing.

Echoes of the Past

By Horror73

The house had sat vacant for years. New owners came and went, none able to spend more than a night in the infamous home.

Sometimes the truth is more frightening than fiction.

Madame Delphine MacCarthy Lalaurie was a wealthy New Orleans socialite and notorious enslaver. In 1832, Madame Lalaurie moved into a neoclassical mansion at the intersection of today’s Royal and Governor Nicholls Streets with her third husband Dr. Leonard Louis Nicolas Lalaurie. Madame Lalaurie hosted many lavish parties there. However, through the years, information surfaced about her gross mistreatment of enslaved people.

On April 10, 1834, a fire broke out in the Lalaurie mansion. A group of onlookers gathered outside of the home as it burned. According to The New Orleans Bee, the city’s French-language newspaper, firefighters discovered “seven slaves, more or less horribly mutilated” locked inside the building as they attempted to control the flames. The Bee went on to condemn the “barbarous and fiendish atrocities committed by the woman Lalaurie upon the persons of her slaves.” The firefighters brought these enslaved people to the Cabildo.

As word of Lalauries’ abusive actions surfaced, neighbors became enraged. According to The Bee, a crowd of 4,000 people gathered at the Cabildo. Neighbors ransacked the mansion and destroyed what was left of the burned mansion. The Lalauries fled to Lake Pontchartrain and ultimately relocated to Paris. Madame Lalaurie died in Paris, but it is believed her body was brought back to New Orleans and buried at the St. Louis Cemetery.

Many had owned the house since that time and it had been used as apartments, private residence, and even a school but bad luck befell anyone who owed the home….Nicolas Cage fell into bankruptcy after owning it less than a week.

The house was yearning for a new occupant to torment much the same as the spirits that occupied the house had been tormented in their prior lives.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Eve sat in her office drinking a glass of cold ice tea. It was extremely hot on this hazy Monday morning and the humidity level had to be close to 80 percent.

She had been hired to find out what happened to a famous paranormal investigator who had gone missing in the Lalaurie Mansion. She was writing a story about the mansion for her new book and had decided to spend one night to see if the stories of ghostly apparitions and screaming phantoms was indeed true. The next morning when the realtor went to unlock the house she found the writer had vanished. No signs of foul play and the doors were all locked from the inside. Her belongings were all sitting in the spare room untouched.

Eve knew enough about New Orleans history that the mansion was bad news. NOBODY spent any type of time in the home alone. When a cleaning crew was brought in , they cleaned in pairs and the attic was off limits. Eve had decided that her visit would be no exception, she contacted her friend Allie, who was a tough as nails security contractor to join her. They planned on meeting outside the mansion at 4pm.

Allie was right on time as Eve had expected. Her prior military training had never left her after her three tours in Iraq.

They walked into the mansion wishing for the best but fearing the worst.

After storing their gear, they began searching the house, never leaving sight of each other. Allie was as tough as they came but she was also a New Orleans native and knew the brutal stories of misfortune that plagued the mansion.

They went floor by floor, finding nothing…no signs of struggle, blood, footprints. The house was spotless and looked like it had been frozen in time for the last decade.

Eve looked at her phone. “Its almost midnight, let’s call it a night and come back in the morning”

Allie nodded and made her way to the door…it wouldn’t budge. They checked the servant’s entrance and found the door jammed in the same manner.

“Somebody or Something doesn’t want us leaving” said Allie

“Let me call the realtor” said Eve. She pulled out her phone…no signal.

They were trapped.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

They ultimately decided they had no choice, they would have to spend the night. They decided to sleep in the great room since it was well lit and only one doorway in and out. They were going to sleep in shifts and Allie had first watch.

As the clock ticked later and later the atmosphere of the house began to change. The temperature had to have dropped 20 degrees. Allie swore she could feel a dark presence around them.

The lights began to flicker and the lights went out.

“Eve, wake up…we got a situation here” said Allie in a whispered tone.

Eve groggily woke up and grabbed her flashlight from her bag.

They began to hear moaning and footsteps coming from the second floor. Allie loaded a clip into her 9mm and grabbed her flashlight.

They walked up to the second floor and froze, at the end of the hallway was a ghostly apparition. It turned around and looked at them angrily.

“Why are you in my home” it screamed

The specter ran towards them at full speed. Allie fired two shots at it with no effect. Then it was gone.

They heard screams, human screams coming from the floor above.

“It’s coming from the attic” said Eve

They slowly made their way up the stairs. The screams and moaning was getting louder. They made their way to the attic door and slowly pushed it open.

The smell they encountered was a mix of burning flesh and rot. The room was a torture chamber with spectral entities trapped in each cell.

“It’s the spirits of the slaves who were trapped and tortured here” said Eve sorrowfully.

“Look” screamed Allie. “It’s the writer”

The writer was trapped in a cell barely big enough to sit or stand. They slowly made their way toward the cell when the same angry apparition who they had encountered below appeared.

“Under whose authority were you given permission to trespass in my home and steal my slaves” she screamed. “You both are never leaving and are trapped here forever”

Allie pulled her pistol out knowing it was useless but Eve looked around the room. In the corner she saw a small piece of iron rebar, probably used to make the cell bars. She grabbed it and swung it at the apparition. The specter screamed and was gone.

They quickly made their way to the cell door and freed the writer and quickly made their way down the stairs.

The lights began to flicker and the temperature began to get colder and colder.

“If we don’t get out soon we are going to freeze to death” said Allie through chattering teeth.

Eve tried the door to no avail. The spirits were trying to trap them there. She grabbed a chair and tossed it through the window shattering it into a thousand pieces. They quickly but carefully climbed through the damaged frame and made it outside. As soon as they made it to the street the noise all stopped.

The writer thanked them as they walked towards Eve’s car.

“ I guess the stories were all true” said the writer in an exhaustive tone.

All Eve could do was nod her head. They had survived a night in the Lalaurie Mansion.

Thank you to @samcrosfaith for portraying Eve and @raceyrhymes for portraying Allie. You’ll definitely see these two in stories down the road.

I don’t like horrors. Hell, I don’t even like most of the scary films.

But I did watch Crimson Peak today.

And I loved it.

But why, why did I have to watch it just before going to bed? Now I can’t stop thinking about those ghosts!😂😂😂

Btw, I really liked the idea of having ghosts in different colors. Like red for those who were murdered. I think that White for Thomas was because he finally let go. But what does black mean? I read somewhere that it simply means attachment, which actually makes sense since Lucille wasn’t able to let go of the past, her brother and home, while Edith’s mother wanted to protect her.

And Jessica Chastain as Lucille was really good in my opinion. She gave me creeps almost just as much as the ghosts did.

Not even speaking about Tom. He’s always great.

I think this is the first film I saw with Mia after Alice in Wonderland. And to be honest, both characters are somewhat alike. Edith being simply Alice in a ghost story. Maybe it’s just my opinion, I’m not sure. But still, I did like her character.

Wraith

The little girl at night wept.

It is no use, no time to pray.

The family man could hear her.

His time is about to end.

What a pain! So much despair!

Since the failed business, his destiny has been set.

The unrelenting foreign sorrow,

Is the hunter for such bad men.

Trapped inside his home alone.

There goes Mike O.

He was drained of blood.

Every single associate is now cold.

"I didn't do it," he shouted.

"It's not my fault, you know!"

But the walls answered with blood.

And he hears the creaking floor.

"Please! Don't come closer!"

He fired into the empty hall.

Midnight was announced by the grandfather clock.

Now her presence is seen in the corridor.

On his knees, he crumbles.

Praying to deaf gods

She touched his shoulder.

All her pain flowed into his soul.

Before being drained of blood.

He saw through her eyes what he had done.

He felt short of breath,

His finger nails are hot as hell.

He made the mortal order.

For a crime she witnessed herself

She was buried alive.

Thus sealing his twisted fate.

Hotel Del Luna - Catching up with K-Drama

I’ve been away from the drama scene for awhile. But now that gifting season has arrived, I’ve got requests to crochet fun pretties for the holidays... so cue the episode bingeing! Catching up on Hotel Del Luna tonight. I LOVE Master’s Sun (another drama written by the famed Hong sisters), so I was stoked for another ghost story from them. They do spooky humor so well. Eps 5-6 featured a fantastic spoof on leading man Yeo Jin Goo’s “The Crowned Clown” (if you haven’t seen it, you’re missing out). I’m low-key worried I’m going to get an ending I hate here... because both couples (and OMG, I am in love with PO and Mina as the second couple!!) have the potential to end so sadly... eek.

Back on my island. Was looking for the gray man, but it was too sunny out.

“Yuletide Specters”

[Note from rosemary-sealavender: This is one of my favorite spooky Christmas folktales. It’s from The Swedish Fairy Book (1921), edited by Clara Stroebe and translated by Frederick H. Martens, from the Frederick Stokes Company. It’s public domain.]  

- - - 

Once upon a time there lived two peasants on a homestead called Vaderas, just as there are two peasants living on it now. In those days the roads were good, and the women were in the habit of riding when they wanted to go to church.

One Christmas the two women agreed that they would ride to Christmas night mass, and whichever one of them woke up at the right time was to call the other, for in those days there was no such thing as a watch. It was about midnight when one of the women thought she heard a voice from the window, calling: "I am going to set out now." She got up hurriedly and dressed herself, so that she might be able to ride with the other woman; but since there was no time to eat, she took a piece of bread from the table along with her. In those times it was customary to bake the bread in the shape of a cross. It was a piece of this kind that the woman took and put in her pocket, in order to eat it underway. She rode as fast as she could, to catch up with her friend, but could not overtake her. The way led over a little stream which flows into Vidostern Lake, and across the stream was a bridge, known as the Earth Bridge, and on the bridge stood two witch trolls, busy washing. As the woman came riding across the bridge, one of the witch trolls called out to the other, "Hurry, and tear her head from her shoulders!"

"That I cannot do" returned the other, "because she has a bit of bread in the form of a cross in her pocket."

The woman, who had been unable to catch up with her neighbor, reached the church at Hanger alone.

The church was full of lights, as was always the case when the Christmas mass was said. As quickly as ever she could the woman tied up her horse, and hurriedly entered the church. It seemed to her that the church was crowded with people; but all of them were headless, and at the altar stood the priest, in full canonicals but without a head. In her haste she did not at once see how things were; but sat down in her accustomed place. As she sat down it seemed to her that some one said: "If I had not stood godfather to you when you were christened, I would do away with you as you sit there, and now hurry and make yourself scarce, or it will be the worse for you!" Then she realized that things were not as they should be, and ran out hastily.

When she came into the church-yard, it seemed to her as though she were surrounded by a great crowd of people. In those days people wore broad mantles of unbleached wool, woven at home, and white in color. She was wearing one of these mantles and the specters seized it. But she flung it away from her and managed to escape from the church-yard, and run to the poor-house and wake the people there. It is said it was then one o'clock at night.

So she sat and waited for the early mass at four o'clock in the morning. And when day finally dawned, they found a little piece of her mantle on every grave in the church-yard.

A similar experience befell a man and his wife who lived in a hut known as Ingas, below Mosled.

They were no more than an hour ahead of time; but when they reached the church at Hanger, they thought the service had already begun, and wanted to enter at once; but the church was barred and bolted, and the phantom service of the dead was nearing its end. And when the actual mass began, there was found lying at every place some of the earth from the graves of those who shortly before had been worshiping. The man and his wife thereupon fell grievously ill, because they had disturbed the dead.

NOTE

"Yuletide Spectres." The tale of the weird service of the dead on Christmas night is common throughout Scandinavia. (From an mss. communicated by Dr. v. Sydow-Lund).

- - -

[Another note from rosemary-sealavender: More stories from the same book are available via worldoftales.com, from which this is taken verbatim. WoT is an excellent resource for early 20th C. books of folktales. However, here I’ll add the caveat: the collection skews Western European, and stories collected from elsewhere in the world are written from a white Euro-American perspective and include dated, i.e., racist, colonial, exoticizing language. Just as an FYI.]

The Curious Mystery of the Vanishing Doll

"Auburn hair and eyes of Emerald green Sat atop the shelf, Regal and clean Catch her eye and blink you not She has you now, the fish is caught She has you now you will not sleep Come day or night you'll hear no peep. Try all you can to break this curse Banishment will make it worse for in the place you lay her down when you return she won't be found"

This is the only photo I have of Jolene, you can just make her out on my childhood bedroom shelf. She had ginger locks and wore a white and green dress with a matching hat and a folded parasol. I bought her when I was about eleven after falling completely under her spell a few months before in a tired gift shop. I saved up all my money, and finally, she was mine. Taking her home I kept her on my bedside table, undisturbed by her for several years. This was before the change. Out of the blue, something possessed to rearrange my room and she ended up on a shelf looming directly over my bed. From then on, nights were spent staring into her cold glass eyes. Transfixed to her like weeping angel; if to shut my eyes I was left exposed to her unbroken gaze. So disturbed by this, she was wrapped up in tissue and safely tucked away in an old shoe box to be left, all alone, in the loft. Only now she's vanished. The whole loft has been turned upside down in search of her, but. Nothing. She has strayed from that place. So tonight, when you settle down in your bed, just maybe you'll feel a certain cool gaze and the eerie feeling that you're being watched.

issue 15 of the blugg newspaper is a spooky one! that is, if you believe in ghosts… personally, I’m not sure how I feel about them, but I lean more to the skeptic side.

for fun, here’s a photo I took at gettysburg, and at the time, was convinced I captured a ghost. I’m not going to point it out and let you be the judge.

Happy All Hallows Eve my ghoulish peeps! Hallowe'en is my favourite festival, but I haven't had time to draw a special picture this time, so instead here are my four favourite ghost stories from the Hyaku Monogatari (100 stories) feature in What's the Time, Mrs Woolf.

If you want to play, gather some friends together and sit in a dark room with one candle each. You each tell a ghost story, and blow out your candle when you're done. When everyone has told a story and you're all sitting in darkness, count off around the room, and you should have an extra person.

Happy Hallowe'en!

Happy New Year, peeps! I thought I'd make a post with what I think is my best work of  this last year. In chronological order, these are:

The Mysterious Land of Under-Noodle, from the Inspired Eat Me! anthology

The Mystery of the Night Boy, a Patience mini-comic

The Hyaku Monogatari feature from the Hallowe'en issue of What's the Time, Mrs Woolf?

This Is Not A Serious Music Publication, a collaborative music zine I made with Sammy, which is probably my absolute favourite thing I did this year.

Two postcards from my Autumn 2012 set.

I think what I learned this year is a) I do some of my best work under extreme time pressure, and b) I also do my best work when I'm really excited about it. (Both apply to the music zine.) Possibly also c) due to being willfully contrary, bad reviews only make me draw MORE COMICS.

Unfortunately I also learned that it's very easy for me to get caught up working on small press comics and zines because they're a lot of fun to make, neglecting the work which would get me closer to illustrating actual books. Hence my plan for next year is to manage my time better and prioritise book-related work, even if it means making fewer comics. This was a really difficult conclusion to accept because I really love making comics with my friends, but I only have so much time in the week after going to my day job, and I just can't do comics (in the quantities I've been doing this year) AND do the work I need to break into book illustration. Not until someone starts paying me to draw things anyway.

So... I hope 2013 brings me people who pay me to draw things? 

AW YEAH NEW YEAR!

Drawlloween day 25 - Scary Tales

I still think that my favorite urban legend/folklore fact is that there are certain areas in New Orleans where you cannot get a taxi late at night not because it isn’t safe, but because taxi companies have had recurring problems of picking up ghosts in those areas who are not aware that they are dead and disappearing from the cab before reaching the destination and therefore stiffing the driver on the fare causing a loss for the company.

I still think that my favorite urban legend/folklore fact is that there are certain areas in New Orleans where you cannot get a taxi late at night not because it isn’t safe, but because taxi companies have had recurring problems of picking up ghosts in those areas who are not aware that they are dead and disappearing from the cab before reaching the destination and therefore stiffing the driver on the fare causing a loss for the company.

Figured it’d be fun to add some of my own to this:

-This one comes from my sister (two of these do at least) This happened when I believe she was three and driving home with our mum from dropping me off at kindergarten (we lived in Germany at the time) and she had told our mum while in the back that “Donny’s mum is here, she’s very pretty” and described the woman in great detail to our mum. Donny was/is our parents friend and our godfather but me and my sister never met his mum as she had dies two years before I was born (I'm one year older than my sister) she freaked my mum out so hard as we hadn't even seen a photo of her before.

- Second from my sister this happened more recently about three years ago-ish me and my sister had been feeling watched and hearing noises in our house around midnight something akin to chains being dragged incase your wondering. So my sister took a selfie that night to send her friends who were also awake. However not one minute later she ran into my room freaked the fuck out. When I asked what was wrong she showed me the picture, where her face had been replaced by an old lady who we couldn't recognise and her actual face was on the side of the image. She slept in my room that night and the next morning the image was fine. The old lady was gone.

- This one is mine. happened about 2 years ago, me and a friend decided to record ourselves walking down to an old army base that has been long. since abandoned. On the way near it we found an old pill box, I had a feeling that something was wrong but I couldn't place it I had seen something moving in the window that freaked me out but my friend went in, as he had gone in I had suddenly felt ill and began smelling something rotting it was incredibly clear and horrible, so I told him we had to leave right then are there. However as we left I had felt something cold move from my shoulder to my wrist. When we got a few metres away the smell was gone and I was felt with a bruise on my wrist and shoulder. We didn't go back.

i just had the weirdest moment, i was feeling my front teeth with my tongue because they’re the tiniest bit crooked, and then i had the thought “i’ll check if they’re also crooked in my other mouth” and then i realized to my shock and confusion that i have only one mouth, leading me to believe that in a past life i was a terrible monster with two mouths

Im making them whach ghost stories [the anime]

Hehehe, im evil and traumatising these two goobers

The Murder of Molly Brown

Have you seen the cat-tails Shifting beneath the bridge, Gathered in the shadows Down by the water’s edge? Have you heard the whispering That rustles in the reads? The rushes, they are speaking For there’s blood upon the weeds. And there’s a faint impression, A sadness in the air. A ghost of trauma lingers on To guide the seeking stare. And now down to the water We’ll gaze beneath the sheen To see the lifeless angel there, Drifting and serene. We wonder at her beauty, Her breasts, pale and bare, And curious we tremble: Is that image truly there? But then the water shimmers And things are put a’ right. But, Molly Brown was murdered here, And just the other night.

©️ JM Tiffany

cringetober day one babyyy!! screen shot redraw of ghost stories dub