Creepy True Stories That Are Better Than Most Horror Movies You’ve Watched
True Creepy Short Stories For Kids & Adults: Till now we have published 35 scary and real-life ghost stories in 3 posts and we are constantly adding new stories on the demand of our readers at Lifelords. If you have not read these marvelous spooky stories, we urge you to follow these links and experience the thrill of reading these creepy tales.
If you are a horror tale lover then you’re in the perfect place right now because we have created this page only for you. We hope these creepy stories can be an exciting journey into the darker side of the imagination both for kids and adults.
1. My Husband Leaves Our House Every Night At 3 AM…
A user Callmeratatata shared his real horror story with readers: Hi, so I am a 30 years old Female and have recently got married to my husband (32 Years) a month ago. It was an arranged marriage and needless to say, I still don’t know a lot of things about him. He is a nice man; kind and sweet and always takes care of me. But something about him is off. I feel a sense of discomfort every time he looks straight into my eyes.
His eyes look emotionless, like two black hollow beads placed over his face. His smiles always unnerve me. The way he moves, the way he talks, the way he responds, are all kind of… inhumane. Before witnessing what I had yesterday, I had only assumed he was an awkward man with an introverted self. But now…I am scared.
Since the last week, I have noticed him leaving the house at exactly 3 AM and returning an hour later. At first, when he left I had just thought that maybe he was leaving for some work-related purpose. But then I asked him about his nightly shenanigans and he denied ever going out. So with a broken heart, my mind wandered to him having an affair with a prettier, younger woman than me into just one month of marriage.
Maybe he was a man like that, the kind who neither gets attached to any bonds nor maintains his commitments. Alas, I still don’t know him. So, I asked him again the next morning and he laughed it off, saying I was imagining things and he was right beside me the whole time. I tried to argue with him about this, but he just kept dismissing me.
For a second, I even believed him. So the next night, I recorded the happenings with my phone hidden behind a flower pot. And it shocked me with what I saw. He did leave that night and I was not hallucinating. Although, what was visible on my phone almost made me question my sanity.
He Comes Back Exactly An Hour Later, Drenched In Blood
He left at the same time and just like how I knew, he returned around 4 am. Only this time, he was drenched in blood. From head to toe, every part of him was dripping with blood. The crimson liquid was spread all over the floor. He didn’t even bother to wash himself. He just fell on the bed and put his blood-smothered arm around me. I was shaking, I was panicky but I was scared to tell him that I knew. I didn’t know what he was doing.
Was he a murderer? And where was my recording? Where did his bloody clothes go, why didn’t his bloodied arm leave a stain on my clothes? The next morning I was constantly shuddering around him, all jittery, hands shivering, avoiding eye contact, and just couldn’t shake the image of him looking so menacing in my head. He asked me what was wrong. I didn’t reply.
I didn’t know what the fuck he was. I was not letting him know that I know. But he knew. He snaked his arm around my waist, leaning close to me and whispering in my ear, “Next time when you record something secretly, don’t hide your phone in such a visible spot.” I froze. Turning to him slowly, his wide grin directly itself to me. “I don’t know what you are talking about.”
“Don’t lie to me, honey. Tonight, you are coming with me.” Even though I begged and pleaded for him to leave me alone, he did not care at all. His only answer was laughing evilly, a strange amused glint in his eyes as he watched me struggle with this madness. I dreaded the oncoming night but he only grew more excited than ever.
When the clock’s hand touched 3, he grabbed my hand and we rushed outside. A car was waiting outside. He dragged me inside the car. I was almost sure I was going to die. Almost as if reading my mind, his eyes turned to me and he said, “You know I won’t kill you right?”
Was It Just A Nightmare Or Something Real
I couldn’t do anything but stare at him helplessly. My heart was thudding loudly in my chest, the blood in my veins rushing so hard I was almost going to have a heart attack. I couldn’t sit still, my eyes frantically looking everywhere but everything outside the car was covered with pitch-black darkness. When the car stopped, he opened the door and I stepped out, my eyes widened. We weren’t in any other place but in front of our house.
I looked at him confusedly and giving me a chilling smile, he got inside the house. I furrowed my brows and followed him. There was no difference, it was indeed our house. “What is this?” I asked him, puzzled. He started laughing. “What did you expect?” This was not normal. My instinctual senses were telling me, something was about to happen. I kept my eyes on him as he moved around me as if circling me like prey.
“What the fuck are you and what do you want?” I bellowed. A high-pitched, shrill ecstatic scream left his mouth which was terrifying. It didn’t sound like him at all. He cocked his head slightly to the side. Without saying a word, he went to the corner of the room and grabbed a baseball bat. And with inhuman speed, he ran and appeared right in front of me and raised his bat as a bloodcurdling scream left my mouth.
He didn’t stop. He kept on smashing my entire body with the baseball bat till there was blood spilled all over the floor. His entire body was covered with my blood. His face watched me with happiness. When he was done, he threw the baseball bat away. I could barely feel anything, the pain was so excruciating, I had to detach myself from my body.
My eyes were shutting off when he started pulling my broken body upstairs towards our room. He stopped right outside our bedroom. He opened the door and even though I was disoriented with the immense pain cladding my body, I could not believe what I saw. I saw myself, sleeping on the bed. Our bedroom clock showed it was 3:59. One more tick and it was 4 am.
I Have To Find Out The Secret Behind The Enigma
He entered the room and I saw myself fidget a bit on the bed. He turned around to look at me one last time before he shut the door on my face and my eyes closed themselves permanently. But…not really. I woke up again, but this time in bed. I gasped loudly as I sprung up from the bed and checked my arms and legs to see if they were intact. They were indeed. Literally feeling like I had lost all my marbles, I sat on the side of my bed.
Was last night a nightmare? How did it feel so damn real though? That’s when my eye caught my phone hidden behind the flower pot. I checked the footage and my jaw touched the floor at what I saw. Same footage, him walking in with so much blood on him, shutting the door, and sleeping beside me. He wrapped his bloodied arm around my waist and fell asleep.
Again, just like last time, there was no blood on the bed or on me. There was no sign he had even done the things to me last night. I was close to breaking down. Was something wrong with me? That’s when I saw the little note on the bed. I opened it. It read: “Told you, I won’t kill you, honey.”
Right now, he is out at his work, but I can still feel his cold breath on the back of my neck, his dark eyes transfixed on me from the corner of my room. I don’t know what to do. But let me tell you all that I am going to surely find out what the hell is going on.
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2. There Were Bees In Her Brain: A Story You Mustn’t Read
This creepy story comes from A Redditor BuzzyBeeB: There was a girl I knew in Texas when I was a kid. She was poor and lived with her mother in an old trailer on an empty lot at the other end of town, not that my folks were too well off either. Anyway, both of us were fat kids who didn’t have many friends, and I guess we sort of gravitated toward each other, though we didn’t talk much.
Mostly we just sat by ourselves at the lunch table together, neither of us having much to say. But as time went on, we got to talking more and one day in the 8th grade she invited me over to her trailer after school. She was an odd girl who wore long sleeves even in summer. She was telling me something about there being a beehive at her place that she wanted me to come to see.
But it was a baking hot day in the middle of summer and I was sweating like a pig and could barely concentrate. When we got to her trailer, I heard a buzzing sound coming from it that got louder as we approached, but all I could think about was getting a drink of water. She let me inside the trailer after making me promise not to tell what was in there.
The buzzing was even louder inside but I hardly paid attention to it as I followed her gesture toward the small sink. As I opened the cupboard looking for a cup, a small swarm of bees or wasps flew out suddenly and I jumped back and then saw that the cupboards were empty. I was so thirsty I just drank directly from the faucet after that, not even caring about the wasps.
I took a long drink, and when I finally turned around I saw something that startled me. I hadn’t even noticed a huge woman sitting on a chair and realized it must be the girl’s mother. There were still wasps flying all around the room and it sounded and looked like there was an even greater number of them beyond a small adjacent room, humming malevolently.
“Why are there so many bees in here, ma’am?” I said, mystified, still not even reacting to the danger. “Is there a wasp nest in your house?”
But What Happened With The Girl And Her Mother
The woman looked at me vacantly with wide, unblinking eyes, and I noticed that her arms and face were covered in hundreds or thousands of little inflamed red welts and sores. “Ma’am, are you alright?” I asked, still in shock. Then she slowly formed her mouth into an “O” shape and a single wasp flew out. She beamed maniacally after it like a small child blowing a bubble for the first time. Something about this horrified me more than I can describe and I knew her mind was gone.
“What the… what the fuck is that?” I stuttered, backing up, and then scooting quickly toward the door. But the girl had locked the door and was blocking my path. As I tried to push her away in a sudden panic, I felt the first stings on my legs and arms like little pinpricks.
“LET ME OUT, LET ME OUT!” I hollered as loud as I could as I wrestled with the girl. She was almost as heavy as I was and surprisingly strong, and she dragged me to the ground where we wrestled violently for several long moments.
“I’M SORRY,” the girl yelled back at me as we fought. “THERE’RE BEES IN MY BRAIN! THERE’RE BEES IN MY BRAIN!” she screamed. She seemed to be gripped by as much sheer mortal terror as I was, which only increased my own and somehow I was finally able to push her off me so that she fell back and hit the table, and then I unlocked the door and dived outside.
There were wasps all over me and I rolled frantically on the dusty ground, then ran a bit, then tumbled and rolled some more, screaming my head off the entire time. What drove me the most insane was that it felt like some of the wasps were trying to crawl inside my nostrils and mouth and ears. And all the time, that horrible, unstoppable buzzing.
Who Would Be The Next Zombie Slave In The City
After that it gets hazy, but the next thing I knew for sure I was in a hospital room and my mom and step-dad were there. I was covered head to toe in wasp stings and the doctors said I was lucky to be alive. The police said there had been a huge wasp nest in that girl and her mom’s trailer and the wasps had killed both of them. Government exterminators had then come and killed all the wasps with special smoke.
But strangely, as I learned much later from some news articles, the girl and her mother had both been partially “eaten” from the inside. The wasps had burrowed inside them to lay their eggs, and, according to some of the articles, may have somehow “accessed” their brain stems. But this was denied by later articles and all of the original articles stating this was later removed but were archived by various online blogs.
Some of those blogs documented other similar cases as well that had been similarly ignored or retracted by the media. In nature, wasps will inject poison into various other bugs, from caterpillars to cockroaches to spiders, that enables the wasp to manipulate their behavior and turn them into “zombie slaves” so that they can slowly eat them or lay their eggs inside them so that the larvae can feed on the zombified bug after they hatch.
Before I left the hospital, I had told the doctors I felt like there was something stuck in my ear that itched and I thought it was a wasp still stuck in there, but they said it was nothing to worry about. That itch remained with me for years, and at night I dreamed of the horrible humming. I tried to tell my mom about it so she’d take me back to the doctor, but she never did.
According to one theory on those blogs, these wasp incidents with people started happening sometime around the 1950s or 60s when the US government was doing nuclear testing in the Southwest. I don’t know if that’s true. But I do know one thing. There are bees in my brain. I can’t go to the doctor anymore. They won’t let me. They’ve laid dormant for many years, somehow, but they’ll be coming out soon. I hear the horrible humming all the time now. I’m sorry.
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3. A Late Walk Home That Was A Real Nightmare
Jfishdog Shared This Real Haunted Story with Readers: As an Aussie, I’d never had a problem with walking around at night. There have always been pretty low crime rates in my city, aside from car theft. This isn’t a story about crime though. It was a Friday night after Uni exams had finished for the semester, so a bunch of the guys had gone down to the local tavern. It happened to be a ten-minute walk from my place and was well lit the whole way aside from the odd faulty street light.
It was a nice place to grab dinner, have a chat, and get absolutely smashed. After being fully satisfied with the food, banter, and beer, I decided to head home before I could no longer walk. I said bye to my mates and left the tavern. I’d barely made it out the door when I felt something strange. It was like someone was watching me from the corner of their eye.
Someone I couldn’t see. I walked forward, glancing around to try and get my bearings, and could sense they were directed down the path from me. I had no clue where they were hiding, or how far away though. On one side of the path was a stone-edged garden, with bushes that someone could easily crouch behind, while the other was the road.
Being a drunken idiot, I leaned down and grabbed one of the fist-sized stones that lined the garden, thinking I could use it as a weapon, not considering the possibility of just asking someone for a lift home. As I continued the walk, the feeling only got worse. I was coming up to a faulty streetlight, and expecting it to be the perfect spot for a mugger.
That Bizzare Creature Was Now Upon Me
I gripped the stone tight and pretended to casually walk by. As I passed directly under the darkened streetlight a shudder passed down the length of my body. I now felt eyes directly upon me. I reared back my arm and threw the stone into the bushes, preparing to sprint. Nothing happened. I still felt eyes directly upon me and looked in all directions to no avail. I then remembered that weird statistic about 70% of people never looking up, and looked up.
There were two wide eyes, staring down at me from a large face which I couldn’t make out. Utter fear took hold as my eyes looked down its misshapen body, bending over me in the inexact proportions of a streetlight, yet completely organic, with two almost human, yet inhumanly-long legs. Suddenly I remembered to sprint.
I could still see the tavern from where I had made it and pumped my legs as hard as I could to get back. I heard the rustling of foliage, the snapping of branches, and the clatter of stones behind me, as whatever it was behind me rapidly caught up in several slow but intentional steps. I looked back for a second and tripped, scraping my hands on the concrete, and falling into the stones.
It was now upon me, slowly and deliberately leaning down. As its face drew near the most toxic smell that had ever assaulted my nose wafted down, causing me to get teary and squeeze my eyes shut. I clumsily felt for a stone, lobbing it at the face which was now close enough to analyze, but not being able to open my eyes out of fear of knowing my tormentor. I didn’t hear it connect.
But, After All, Who Was There In The Bushes
I lay curled up there for what felt like an hour before I dared open my eyes. When I did, there was nothing. I continued my sprint back to the tavern, not daring to look back. When I came inside the guys were still on the same topic of conversation as when I had left. One of my good mates saw I had taken a fall and asked if I was alright. I told him I wasn’t sure, and he told me to wait with him until his girlfriend came to pick him up.
She dropped me home and I said goodnight to them. In the morning I asked the same guy to come with me to the place where it happened. We inspected the area, and I noticed that the ground had been heavily disturbed, with large scraping tracks rather than footprints, and several of the shrubs having been pushed through and snapped.
The spot where it had stood was about halfway between two regular streetlights, as though it had made a lazy effort to look like it wasn’t out of place. I decided to tell my mate what I saw, and of course, he didn’t believe me. He knew I’d only been drinking beer, but insisted it was probably just a kangaroo lost in the suburbs.
I’ve never seen a kangaroo that big before, let alone that disturbing. To this day he tells the story as a joke, and I have to laugh it off as though it isn’t the reason that I don’t walk at night anymore, and even when I drive I still keep a very close eye on faulty streetlights.
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4. A Cursed Horror Book That Was Determined To Kill
Millie was a soft brown-haired beauty. Her hair was always straight and so soft, so dark it was almost black. It laid just slightly on her shoulders. She had the creamiest, softest skin. Her face was unblemished despite her teenage, and her hazel eyes were penetrating. She had large and lovely eyes, always reflecting that she was deep in thought. Millie could almost always be seen with a horror book in her hand when she wasn’t doing homework.
This bothered her mother, who was a friendly, outgoing type, who enjoyed sunshine and flowers and other beautiful things in the world. She didn’t like to see her gorgeous daughter reading about gruesome killings, grisly scenes, and disturbed minds. Millie’s mother decided on a whim one day to take one of Millie’s horror novels to a voodoo woman and get a curse put on it.
“Please make it so Millie never wants to read another horror novel again,” Millie’s mother instructed the woman. The woman took out a large black bowl and an incense cone and some dried leaves. She placed the cone in the bowl, lit it, and then placed the book on the cone.
A large black cloud of smoke arose and the woman sprinkled the dried leaves on the book and the smoke, saying incantations that sounded ancient and frightening. Then she waved both hands, crisscrossing, over the bowl, and said, “Horror, be gone!” The black smoke suddenly disappeared and the woman pulled the book out of the bowl. It was not burned. Millie’s mother was amazed and hoped the spell really worked.
She silently slipped Millie’s book back to where it had been at home, in Millie’s tote bag. The next day, Saturday, Millie awoke from an afternoon nap and decided she wanted to read in the living room. The house was quiet; her mother was gone on errands. Her father always worked on Saturdays. The day was already turning into evening, the light from the sun faint on the walls.
Why You Should Not Read A Horror Book Alone
Millie started a tea kettle for hot chocolate and settled on her favorite spot on the couch. She started on her new horror novel that was in her tote bag. The setting of the novel was a teen girl reading alone in her house. Millie read some of the girl’s background story and then the novel was mentioning a strange scratching sound at the window. Suddenly Millie herself was also hearing a scratching sound at the window. She looked up and saw nothing at the window and chuckled to herself.
She continued reading, after fetching her cup of hot chocolate. Next, the girl character was hearing footsteps in the hall. She was getting really creeped out as she was supposed to be alone. Millie reflected on how she was alone also in the house. She looked up again. It was even darker in the room. She decided to turn on a lamp. As she was finished clicking the lamp’s knob, she thought she heard some thumps in the hall.
She decided it was her mind playing tricks on her. She picked up her novel and the girl character decided to jump up and have some hot chocolate. She reached into the kitchen’s pantry closet and instead of a box of chocolate she was groping at her own mother’s corpse, blue in the face from having been strangled. Millie slammed the books shut. She was starting to get the creeps.
It was weird that she was hearing some of the same noises the girl heard and drinking the same drink and in the same predicament, alone at home in the evening. She decided to put the box of hot chocolate back in their kitchen pantry, to put her mind at ease, once she saw her own mother wasn’t in the closet, dead as well, she could go back to her book. She opened the closet and couldn’t believe her eyes.
It was her mother, looking still and blue, her neck with a bloody ring around it from being strangled. Millie screamed and ran out of the house. Later after her father came home, the police and mortician came and went, and days passed by. Millie tried to bring her life back to normal as much as possible. But she found she could never, ever read a horror novel for the rest of her life.
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5. Keyhole: My Real Life Ghost Experience In A Home
A couple of years ago, when I was 23 years old… my car broke down and I drove as far as it would go. I ended up in front of an old beat-up house. I walked up to the scratched, old, and worn-out door. I knocked a couple of times until a sweet little old couple answered. They insisted that I stay until the morning when they could get some help. At first, I was scared to say yes but I thought they were nice enough, so I took them up on their generous offer.
They cooked me a delicious meal and we all went to bed. As we passed a door to go to the bedroom they showed me was mine for the night they told me, “Do not go into our daughter’s room”. I thought it was kind of strange but it wasn’t my house so I respected their request. I woke up in the middle of the night around 3 o’clock to go to the bathroom. I was curious so I peeked under the door of the daughter’s room.
I saw a little girl sitting in a chair facing the wall. I assumed she must have been punished and did not want me to bother her. So I went to the bathroom and then back to bed. A couple of hours later, around 4:30 am, I became really thirsty. I needed to get some water so I got back up and headed for the kitchen. As I passed by the daughter’s room, I was still so curious.
I peeked in the keyhole this time. All I saw was red so I assumed they must have painted the whole room red, including the keyhole. When I woke up in the morning, I went downstairs and thanked the old couple very much for letting me stay. They said it was no problem and asked how my night was.
I said “it was good” and complimented them on the color of the paint job in their daughter’s room. They said “what paint job”. I then asked if there was anything special about their daughter. They said she died a couple of years ago and had one red eye. I realized that the red I saw was nothing more than the daughter looking back at me, through the keyhole.
6. The Accident’ By Minnboy: A Creepy True Story
A user Minnboy shared his creepy story with readers: It was 1:00 a.m. and Guy Halverson sat in his dark living room. He hadn’t moved for over an hour. The accident earlier that evening kept playing over and over in his mind. The light turned red, but he was in a hurry and accelerated. An orange blur came from his right, and in a split second there was a violent jolt, then the bicyclist rolled across his hood and fell out of sight on the pavement.
Horns blared angrily and he panicked, stepping on the gas and screeching away from the chaos into the darkness, shaken and keeping an eye on his rearview mirror until he got home. Why did you run, you idiot? He’d never committed a crime before this and punished himself by imagining years in jail, his career gone, his family gone, his future gone.
Why not just go to the police right now? You can afford a lawyer. Then someone tapped on the front door and his world suddenly crumbled away beneath him. They found me. There was nothing he could do but answer it. Running would only make matters worse. His body trembling, he got up, went to the door, and opened it.
A police officer stood under the porch light. “Mr. Halverson?” asked the grim officer. He let out a defeated sigh. “Yes. Let me —”I am terribly sorry, but I’m afraid I have some bad news. Your son’s bike was struck by a hit-and-run driver this evening. He died at the scene. I’m very sorry for your loss.”
7. The Trickster: Creepy Short Story of A Girl
This creepy story is told by a Reddit user Scarlett Beeswax: I lived in this house with a basement, and every time I walked up the stairs I would get this weird, creepy goosebumps feeling on the back of my neck. It didn’t make me uneasy to go down the stairs or to be in the basement. My craft room was down there I and I spent a lot of time there. After a while, I would have items I was using disappear when I would look away from them.
I would search and search and one day I got frustrated and to no one, in particular, I said ‘Arrrgh!! Can I please have my scissors back?'” I had just looked under the pile of new mail and when I turned my head, there were my scissors on top of the pile of mail. I talked to my neighbor and she told me that the original owner of the house was a jolly old man.
He loved to prank people and he had fallen coming up the stairs one day and died. I think the goosebumps were him trying to tell me to be careful! And every time after that, when something would disappear, I would politely ask for it back and it would appear in a place that I could not have missed before! Thanks, old man, it was fun!”
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8. Ouija Board Knocks Back: A Creepy Short Story
A Reddit user ExcrementCraniumwrote: In high school, my friends and I were messing around with an Ouija board one night. We had done it before and nothing remarkable had ever happened. We usually did it to try and scare each other or are girlfriends. We all thought it was a joke. That night there was no one else home except the 7 of us and we were all together around the board. One of the girls there wanted to try it.
She had never done it before. This time was different. The board misspelled some of the words the same way every time. It gave answers that seemed really historically accurate for our town (things we neither knew nor cared about). Long story short, the “spirit” claimed it was a 10-year-old boy who had died on the property in the 1800s and was buried there too in an unmarked grave (my friend’s house was on a farm on the edge of town).
We were all a little freaked out because the board had never been so detailed and consistent. However, we were still skeptical and we were all assuming one of us was trying to scare the rest. Finally, my friend asked if the spirit could do something to prove he was there with us.
It went to Yes and then spelled out k-n-o-c-k. Then the planchette stopped moving. We just all stared at it silently and then there was a rap-rap-rap on the window right next to us. The lights were on the outside and there was absolutely no one out there. We never touched that f-ing board again.
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9. The Crib Shadow: A Creepy True Story For Kids
A Reddit user wrote a real creepy story in these words: I was babysitting my niece once while I was staying at my brother’s place, and they had the baby camera set up so I could see her on the little TV it came with. I was studying and started dozing off when I heard some whispering and realized it was coming from the monitor. I initially thought it was some feedback or something, but when I looked at the TV there was a dark shadow near my niece’s crib.
I have never been more terrified in my life, but the shadow was clearly there where it had not been before. I ran to my niece’s room and looked around and saw nothing, but I took her the hell out of there. I went back to the TV, and the shadow was clearly gone.
I told my brother what happened and he pulled me aside and told me not to mention it to my sister-in-law because she’ll freak out, but that he had seen that same thing several times now, with the same whispering. They stayed in that house for about four more years and when my niece was just learning to talk she would tell her mom about her ‘special friend.’
To this day, it scares the shit out of me. When they moved out, my brother told me my niece had become inconsolably sad because she would miss her ‘friend.’ Her mom would tell her she could bring him along but all she would say was that he couldn’t leave the house. We have never to this day told her about that damn shadow, and she apparently never saw it.
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10. Creepy Story of Myrtles Plantation At St. Francisville
Of the numerous spirits haunting the Myrtles plantation, built-in 1796 in St. Francisville, Louisiana, the most known entity is Chloe, according to the official website. It’s said that plantation owner Clark Woodruff carried on an affair with his slave, Chloe, which he ended abruptly. She began to eavesdrop on his conversations and he caught her.
As punishment, he cut her ear off. She then poisoned the rest of his family with a birthday cake, leaving him alone. The other slaves knew what she had done, and hanged her. She supposedly still remains on the property, though there is a photograph from 1992 where her spirit is reportedly visible.
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