"How many more ghosts can this house hold—before it breaks apart?" the doctor muses.
"You could cram at least two up in the belfry," quips the young man.
"Don’t speak so lightly of the dead," his sister warns.
"Why not?" he spits, "The dead speak lightly enough of us joining them, every single night."

#vssGothic #MoreGhosts #vss #writing #MicroFiction #dialogue #GhostStories

“Who’s that wandering the cemetery?”
“Where?”
“That blonde girl over there, placing those red flowers on the graves—Look, she even left one for Great-Aunt Mae, the old battle axe.”
Max stared at his cousin. “Richard, there’s just the two of us in the graveyard. And there are no flowers.”

#vssGothic #cemetery #vss #writing #MicroFiction #GhostStories

Your devil pins you to the bed, smiling. “Are you so content with your life, my sweet sinner? Don’t you wish to experience bliss? To taste the sublime? Speak my name and be free—”
You struggle, tongue-tied, into wakefulness—
Your devil pins you to the bed, smiling—

#vssGothic #sublime #vss #writing #MicroFiction

It was a warm and sunny day, full of birdsong. The family picnicked down by the lake—unknowing, unsuspecting, of what watched them with many eyes, of what stalked them on twisted limbs, all the way back to the manor—the creature for whom barriers and locks meant little once the sun went down…

#vssGothic #unknowing #vss #writing #MicroFiction #horror