Where the lights flicker, the doors creak, and the ghosts are always on time.
Witnessed by: Agnes P. Bottomsworth on February 27, 1998
The lights in the foyer flickered and died, only to be replaced by an unblinking stare from the portrait of our great-grandmother, Bessie.
Read MoreWitnessed by: Professor Thistlethorpe on October 31, 1975
The walls ran red with the blood of our ancestors, and the sound of a thousand wailing children still haunts me to this day.
Read MoreWitnessed by: Bertha P. Bottomsworth on January 14, 1987
The elevator lurched and groaned, spewing forth a noxious cloud of noxious gas that smelled suspiciously like rotten eggs.
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