The Witch of Gloamsuckle Mire
Deep in the twisting brambles of Gloamsuckle Mire, where light grows tired and the trees whisper secrets, something ancient stirs. Once a kind healer of the marsh, the witch was betrayed by the very souls she saved.
Whispers of Moss Bloom
Deep in the Elderwood, perfect pink blooms erupt around scattered toadstools—an offering left by Moss Bloom, the wooden wraith of the forest floor. Hikers who follow her moss-covered footprints find more than mushrooms: they glimpse hidden glades where moonlight drips like crystal and ancient trees whisper secrets.
Shadows & Sequins
When style blogger Lina Ramirez dons a pair of gold-rimmed sunglasses at a posh thrift shop, she expects a perfect selfie—she never expects to become the star of Kaza’s eternal runway. Each night, the ghostly diva reappears on the mannequin’s face, and each morning Lina’s posts explode with envy and acclaim.
Swarm on the Silver Line
On the last train of the night, the Silver Line’s tunnels become Hive Wraith’s domain. Passengers watch in horror as gilded beetles and dragonflies scuttle across graffiti-scarred walls—each heralding a shadow that devours light and hope.
Neon Nightfall: Echoes of the Spray
When the midnight livestream flickers on, viewers gasp as phosphorescent “S” tags blaze across every corner of the city—yet no hand holds the spray can. Tag, the graffiti ghost, leaps from screen to street, haunting webcams and streetlights alike.
The Mourner of Hindarrow
There are whispers on the wind that know your name, if you’ve ever walked the moors near Hindarrow Hall. Some claim they’ve heard an old woman humming lullabies, or seen the silhouette of a ghost with a shawl pulled tightly around her shoulders.
Echoes of Hemlock
When the lights flicker and the board beckons, skeptics fall silent. Tune in live at midnight as podcaster Mara Vale dares the spirits only to unleash Hemlock, the crimson mother of a thousand wraiths.
Scribble - The Father's Day Delivery
Each Father’s Day, a quiet ghost returns carrying a child’s drawing. Scribble doesn’t speak, doesn’t frighten. He simply appears where the ache of absence is loudest—a pub, a kitchen, a forgotten grave—holding a hand-drawn card that seems strangely familiar.
The Pint that Never Empties
Dave was the kind of dad who always had a bad joke, a warm hug, and a cold pint. Now he’s got one more title—ghost. But not the scary kind. With his signature sunglasses, trusty dad bag, and a pint that never empties
Oakenbane - The Curse
They say you can still hear the vines whisper when the wind shifts through the trees near Alton.
The Containment Breach
It started in Room 7-B. A quiet failure. A single drip. Now, Goop is awake—an experimental ghost formed from spectral residue and psychic waste.
The Witchling’s Last Spell
Before she was a ghost, Tricksy Pye was a curious witchling who wandered too far on Halloween night. She found a forbidden altar, spoke a spell not meant for her lips, and vanished.
The Watchman’s Last Beat
She was once the toast of Whitechapel, her leopard-print coat as famous as her sharp tongue and sharper heels. Now, Pawline prowls the alleyways in silence, her glamorous shimmer dulled only slightly by death. Some say she protects the lost, others whisper she's still hunting the one who wronged her.
The Leopard Queen of Whitechapel
She was once the toast of Whitechapel, her leopard-print coat as famous as her sharp tongue and sharper heels. Now, Pawline prowls the alleyways in silence, her glamorous shimmer dulled only slightly by death. Some say she protects the lost, others whisper she's still hunting the one who wronged her.
The Mirror Doesn’t Blink
Rue never made a sound. Even in life, they moved softly—always on the edge of things. In photographs, Rue was the blur in the background. In school plays, the shadow behind the spotlight. And in mirrors… well, they never quite lined up.
The Tongue Game
The Tongue Game started as a silly dare in a forgotten Victorian parlour. Now it spreads via whispers, drunk dares, TikTok challenges, and cryptic online threads.
Meadow, Whisperer of the Blooming Vale
In a sun-dappled glade hidden between heartbeats of spring, Meadow wanders gently among the daisies and dreams. With a bunny at her feet and a dragonfly that follows her drifting path, she brings the calm of morning dew and the warmth of childhood wonder.
The Egg of Echoes
Each spring, Peep emerges, cradling a marbled egg and watching over three more nestled at their feet. But these are no ordinary eggs they hold whispers.
The Library Between Realms
At the moment a clock strikes thirteen, the world holds its breath—and a door creaks open in a place that should not exist. Page, the silent guardian of the Library Between Realms, watches as a new volume appears.
Moonshade, Guardian of the Forgotten Grove
In the grove where forgotten trees twist above nameless graves, Moonshade lingers beneath the silver glow of a ghostly moon. Once a guardian of peaceful rest, her soul now drifts between realms—where dreamers wander and the dead wait.