Nightmare fuel for the Halloween season

Some of our staff’s favourite spooky stories

Ghost stories can be shared among friends.

With Halloween this weekend, The Journal thought it was imperative we share some of our favourite spooky stories. I mean, who doesn’t like reading creepy stories and then walking around small-town creepy Kingston at night?

Here are some stories to contribute to your nightmares.


It was 5:57 on a Wednesday evening when Donny Hammer was walking down Union Street to enter the Lederman Law Library. He pushed open the glass doors and stepped inside, feeling the glass walls encase him in a quiet showcase. When he glanced at his reflection, he saw shadows under his eyes and a thick brown spider hanging beside his face.

Donny jumped back and slipped down the stairs, falling into the hard ground below. Suddenly, a cold hand that smelled of yellowed books pressed into his back, smothering his gurgled scream.

All he could feel was a presence pressed against his body and the movement of fluttering fabric. But the second he turned his head to confront the perpetrator, the figure behind him disappeared, dissipating into the air.

Donny stood frozen on the steps leading up, staring into the glass reflection as if it would answer the mystery—as if it would show the figure again. For a second, he thought he’d made it up, but when glancing closer into his reflection, he could see the impression of a glowing handprint on his face.

—Suzy Leinster, Features Editor


This one comes from a web editor, Rajesh, at an Indian newspaper.

Rajesh left work around 2 a.m. and started riding a scooter back home. The summers in India are hot with the night offering some reprieve from the heat of the day.

The eerie winding roads of Rajesh’s quiet, residential neighbourhood was a calming force among the hustle and bustle of the newsroom—he needed this commute back home. Normally such a quiet trip home would feel calming, but tonight, the silence in the distance had Rajesh on edge. The limited working streetlights flickered, contributing to his angst. Something was different tonight.

As Rajesh drove closer to one of the few intersections, he saw a short girl wearing an all-white robe leaning on two bamboo canes. Rajesh could see her lean her limp body forward, trying to make out the street signs.

Despite her looking afraid—terrified, even—her beauty was evident. Her long-black hair was silky, yet messy, almost like it had been grabbed.

The girl was confused and hesitant when Rajesh stopped to speak with her. Uncomfortable with the interaction, she carefully asked for directions to the nearest police station.

Rajesh felt the compulsion to help her, but he didn’t want to get involved in a personal—possibly dangerous—situation. He offered her directions and wished her the best of luck; while Rajesh was rooting for her, he couldn’t help but feel she was in a threatening situation.   

Two mornings later, Rajesh went to his front doorstep to pick up the paper he worked so hard on the night previous. He opened his door, and the next thing he knew his face was on the pavement.

When looking for what he tripped on, he saw two bamboo canes, accompanied with a carbon-copied incident report of first-degree murder.

—Asbah Ahmad, Senior News Editor


It’s a story we all know, and it’s one that stuck with me since I was a kid. I remember hearing many different versions of this, but the effect is the same in the end: fearing the dark and being terrified to leave their room at night.

If you go to the bathroom at midnight, take a candle with you and stare at the mirror—you’ve already started the ritual to summon her. Then you spin around three times and repeat her name: “Bloody Mary, Bloody Mary, Bloody Mary.”

She’ll appear as your reflection, staring back at you with terrifying eyes, and all you can do is look back, mortified by the ghostly figure standing in front of you.

Depending on whom you ask, the time she can be summoned is different—1 a.m. or 3 a.m.—but it’s always at the quietest hour of the night.

It doesn’t matter where or when; just remember when you look at your reflection, don’t say her name out loud.

—Clanny Mugabe, Assistant Lifestyle Editor


Ghosts, Halloween, journal staff picks, QJ Staff

All final editorial decisions are made by the Editor(s)-in-Chief and/or the Managing Editor. Authors should not be contacted, targeted, or harassed under any circumstances. If you have any grievances with this article, please direct your comments to

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