Of Ghosts and Spooky Cuddle Stories

Use this thread to post a scary, spooky, or eerie story that includes the words or concepts of "cuddles" or "cuddling." While this is also the season for slasher films (someone please tell me why Jason or Michael aren't permanently dead, yet?), this site is NOT Saw nor Friday the 13th, so keep it PG-rated: no blood, gore, or violence, please.

Additional posting guidelines and reminder:

  • Multiple posts are allowed.
  • Adult content: no adult content of any type, including images or depictions.
  • Language: Please keep the use of offensive language to a minimum. If you're going to use the f-word like punctuation, come sit next to me - in forum timeout.

To recap: write a ghost or spooky short story that includes the words or concept of "cuddles" and "cuddling."

I'll keep this thread open and stickied until 11/01/21.

Ready? Begin.

Comments

  • I woke up in a world that makes you scared to say what you were actually thinking for fear of persucusion , termination or being cancelled. You tip toe around the feelings of a few when your feelings have been trampled for decades. Mentioning this is seen as divisive and the only peace of mind you get is to tune out the world. But in doing so the feeling of isolation is almost as bad if not worse than the world you turned your back on. At last, you find a place where you can still connect at least at a surface level without having to actually expose yourself. But this is like most of western medicine, the symptoms are treated and not the actual ailment. Far more scary than Jason or Michael. Chucky or annabelle. Preditor or alien. marty mcfly or biff tannen.

    I'm just saying the word cuddle because you asked that it be included in this horror story. Cuddle. 😘

  • [Deleted User]MoonlitGoddess (deleted user)

    Oooh I love this topic! Love telling and hearing ghost stories because I know there's truth to them.

    Anyway, so I was living with my sister at the time, renting her upstairs master suite with an attic attached. I came home one rainy morning after classes, was snuggling with my little niece in the living room, she eventually left me and started playing on the stairs, and I went into the kitchen to fix us a snack. Then there was a sudden loud bang, like really loud, but I thought it was my niece just making noise while she played.

    I finally make it up to my room and the second I open my door I noticed something was wrong. I looked up and the attic door was completely pushed up and off! I asked my sister if they had gone up there and she said no of course not, no one goes up there..... all the hairs on my body stood erect. This is when my sister reveals to me that they in fact do have a spirit/energy/ghost in the house....I slept with the lights on for a week.

    Now that I was aware of it, it started messing with me more, her and I were in her office one morning, no on else was home, when out of no where, the door knob starts rattling back and forth as if someone was trying really hard to open it. I gasp and tell her "omg do you see that!?" And she slaps some sense into me and just says that I need to stop giving it my attention or else it will continue! It took me a while but I eventually got over it.

    So yeah, that's my story of the time I had a ghost as a roommate lol hope it tickled your fancy.
    Happy Friday beautiful people 🖤😘

  • [Deleted User]BryanScorpio7 (deleted user)

    @JazzyJ325 I enjoyed reading through all that 😂. Thanks for sharing!

  • [Deleted User]MoonlitGoddess (deleted user)

    Hehehe yay! Glad you liked it @BryanScorpio7

  • This is the Halloween season and yes I love blood gore and horror but my ghost story is more of a positive one that are love ones who have past on are still amongst us and show they love us. My name is william akin my story differs from some. 21 years ago January this year . I loss my father to a drunk driver. He's was 55. I remember that evening more vivid than I can any other night of my life, or ever since.it happened so fast here one minute gone the next. I remember next two weeks feeling lost and grieving. My dad was a prankster and like make people when there down. My dad was a mechanic so he was working this truck or that car . Have a couple around the property we had. I remember the week before he passed he was working on Ford pick up and would tease him you will never get that piece junk to run! Or start! He fiddled with and such. And being the prankster he was week after he passed i went to go start that very truck up to move it put the key in the ignition turned it over. It tried to start. Took the key out still was trying to start, disconnected the battery and still try to start! Never seen a kid jump out of truck so fast and do the 100 meters dash in two seconds. He would open cubbered doors up at night, and one time was driving to the store and saw a younger version on my father walking down the road atleast look like him spooky as heck! I guess the moral of my story is our loves are still here even though they are gone. They show us suttle littke ways that they love us and still thinking about us. Happy Halloween!

  • [Deleted User]ARaven (deleted user)

    Yay I love hearing other people's ghost stories.

  • This isn't a scary story, but it's true (and may be spooky for others, I suppose)...

    When i was younger, married, and still in the military, I got stationed in England. The transfer happened before the school year let out, so I was going to go by myself and set up our house and the rest of the family would join me after summer break started. The military provided a fairly nice, newly renovated house that was built during WWII to house bomber training crews. I arrived with the contents of my two suitcases, a few pieces of loaned furniture (which remained downstairs), and the hopes that the entirety of my household goods would arrive before the rest of my family.

    I brought a laptop computer, but I often entertained myself with a racquet ball that, to my relief, had stowed away in one of my suitcases. There was a carpeted stairwell that started in the living room, opposite the couch. Halfway up, it made a 180 degree turn (two left-handed turns) to continue to the second floor. Since I was living by myself at this point, the second floor remained empty. I started throwing the ball at the stairs, letting it bounce back to me, and repeating. Over the period of a week, my throws had become quite complex and would involve ricocheting the ball around the corner to reach the top stairs. One day, I threw the ball, it went around the corner, and it never bounced back down. Instead of retrieving the ball from upstairs, I decided to play a game on my laptop until it was time for bed.

    The next day, I looked for my ball. I went upstairs and didn't see it in the hallway. I then checked each of the rooms. I went back downstairs to see if it had managed to roll down while I was asleep. The ball was nowhere to be found. I had even checked my luggage, even though there was no feasible way for the ball to get inside. I then gave up.

    Two months later, after being joined by the rest of my family and our belongings, my two daughters and I were cuddling on the couch watching a new episode of Doctor Who. During a fairly quiet scene, the three of us heard 'thump, thump, thump, thump' as a blue racquet ball bounced down the stairs and stopped by my feet. I picked it up with an uneasy chuckle and said, "I'd been looking for this for a while." My younger daughter, a little over a year old, looked up at me and said, "house ghost..."

    The entire time we lived in that house, there was ALWAYS something missing. Unfortunately, it was often the TV remote, but the missing items ranged from a specific pan I used to make pancakes, to my elder daughter's favorite hairbrush, to one of my uniform combat boots. The item would only ever be found days or weeks later --regardless of how thoroughly we searched for it-- and it would always appear in the open, in the middle of the living room.

    We had accepted that our house was 'haunted', but at most, it was only a non-threatening annoyance. I had once told the story to a coworker, who had been at the base for a few years already. Not wanting to seem eccentric or bizarre, I spoke about it rather tongue-in-cheek. He looked at me and said, nonchalantly, "Most of our houses here are haunted."

  • edited October 2021

    He rented a room in the Victorian-style house because it was so far below market, and also because he didn't mind running errands, sometimes cooking, and cleaning the home for the elderly woman, Margaret, who owned it. He had free reign in the house except for the storage room inside the storage room in the basement, and it was highlighted in the rental contract, in which he had chuckled at some of the "forever" verbiage. She was hard of hearing, her glazed eyes unfocused because she refused to get cataract surgery, but she was still mobile with her walker that was outfitted with tennis balls, a knitting bag, "Grandma for President" stickers, and a string of ornamental bells that left soft tinkles in their wake. She joked that she was mean and nasty, but he'd never seen so much as a frown from her.

    He got used to and obliged her various requests: yarn store pickup, retrieving items from around the house for her, post office deliveries, which cleaner to use in which room: oil soap, vinegar, and Spic and Span for the sidewalk coming up to the front porch. "Are you an artist?", he'd joke with her about the paint spills he cleaned up around the property. When he'd finish a task, he'd find her in her rocker by the window, face towards the sunlight, knitting scarves or hats by touch. She'd compliment him on his cooking and he found making meals for two was easier than cooking for himself, like he was used to. They got along well and settled into a nice routine, almost like he'd always done this. Every now and then she'd remind him to stay out of the inner storage room downstairs, please. He would always agree.

    When he started dating Fran from work, he invited her over and introduced her to Margaret at dinner, where she admired Fran's bouquet of flowers on the dining room table, smiled, and was so happy "you two young people" can enjoy each other's company uninterrupted. Her walker's tiny chimes faded as she ascended the stairs.

    Much later, after dinner, talking, and cuddles, he woke in his room, panicked. He reached out but the space next to him in bed was empty. He turned on the lights and Fran wasn't there. He threw on a robe and explored the main level. His eyes glanced over the clear dining room table. Doubtful she'd be upstairs in Margaret's room. He didn't think it likely, but he went down to the basement. A sliver of light showed along the door jam. He could hear tiny chimes from inside the storage room as he opened the door. His head and heart were pounding.

    Margaret stood hunched beside her walker, cleaning paint off the doorknob of the inner storage room with a towel as he entered.

    "Have you seen Fran?" he asked.

    Margaret shook her head. "No, she's gone." Margaret waved vaguely with the crimson-soaked towel. He noticed paint drops on her nightgown. She wiped her hands with the towel and when she looked at him, her eyes were clear and focused and the pounding in his head stopped. He wondered why he was downstairs in his robe. She smiled, eyes distant and foggy. She handed him the paint-soaked towel and he dutifully threw it in a bucket with the other paint clean-up towels. He offered to help her up the stairs but she shook her head and nudged him in the ribs. "Stay out of that room," she joked.

    "Forever," he laughed, and he followed the tiny chimes of her walker up the stairs.  

  • Once upon a time a force of evil so grand, so dark, swept over the land and stole that which we most held dear. All the tacos in the world had vanished!!! Life felt empty... The people knew if they were to lift this curse of darkness, they would need to appeal to the Gods themselves.

    And so, the people of Earth joined together to form a massive cuddle puddle in the shape in the shape of their sacred taco. One of the Gods indeed saw the the plea of the mortal people and was all like "woa, look at that!" Then they, whom had no identifiable gender, turned to their buddies and said "alright check me out."

    All of a sudden the skies rained tacos in a storm that lasted for 40 days and 40 nights. The people rejoiced to have their sacred food returned to them. Meanwhile the evil spirit that had stole their tacos to begin with, received a restraining order and was never again allowed to return to our dimension.

    The End

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