Halloween Haunts: Satansville: Collecting Ghost Stories by T. Fox Dunham

Halloween Haunts: Satansville: Collecting Ghost Stories by T. Fox Dunham

Local legend tells of a conclave of buildings hidden by dense forest and fences that can only be reached by haunted back roads. This urban legends draws ghost hunters and daring teens to a small patch of forest in Chadds Ford, Pennsylvania, deep in the Delaware Valley on the border of that name state. The locals call this domain Satansville, also been called the Cult House—a colonial building made of brown river stone sitting on a hill. And the stories abound, frighten and challenge. The foundation of the building drank the blood of sacrificed virgins in rituals that called upon…

Halloween Haunts: Interview with Mr. Crow Recorded by T. Fox Dunham

Mr. Crow left me his usual calling card—a lump in my neck—inviting me to a follow-up interview at Doylestown Hospital. That night I lay in my hospital bed only sleeping for moments, desperate just to blank out my mind. They shot me up with dilaudid—their opiate of choice for the night—so what follows might have all just been a vivid hallucination. Mr. Crow strolled in at 3AM. This was his time, the hour when he manifested for a short time in the guise of clientele to satiate his loneliness. His presence oozed into the room, leaking from shadow to shadow,…

Halloween Haunts: Trick-or-Treating of the Dead, A True Account by T. Fox Dunham

Few of you know that I am a real zombie. It’s true. I hide it. Now, I don’t eat brains or human flesh though. I generally dress well, though my suit jacket is a bit tattered and ruined; my Allison plans to fix all that. I do stumble when I walk at times without my cane, and I still get a glazed look in my eye now and again, mostly from medications or Long Islands. Oh. And I’ve been legally dead a few times and come back, not in a messiah-way but more in a—my-heart-didn’t-know-when-to-quit-to-kind-of-way. I feel nothing as a…