Showing posts from September, 2019

Goin' Off the Grid

Hey guys! I'm going off the grid for a bit. I'm about to take an adventure! I'll be back in awhile to let you know what's new in OGS. Hopefully things don't fall to pieces while I'm gone . . . See you soon, Morgan

The Funeral Home: Part 4- Our Very Own Slimer

I expected hell fire. Or spirits of witches past. Or the room to shake. I expected something big to happen, but nothing did. We sat quietly at Althea’s funeral listening to a priest talk about Althea’s good deeds and her commitment to the holy.  “She was a model of propriety” The priest said. He removed the photo of young Althea holding the “DEATH TO WITCHES” sign. Behind it was a photo of the old woman dressed in a black robe with a white cloth over her hair.  “She was a nun?!” I whispered just low enough for Kyle and Melinda to hear. “Duh” answered Melinda. “You could have mentioned that!” I whispered back. “Seems like an important detail” Kyle chimed in. “My little cuties, you should get out of here.” A now familiar motherly voice said from behind. Directly behind us, sat the ghost from the casket room. She smiled kindly. Kyle, Melinda, and I eyed each other just to confirm we all saw the same thing. The mourners seated around th

The Funeral Home: Part 3- Death to Witches

As my hand hit the child-sized casket, I was transported back to the day I got locked in the basement of the old school. The smell of rotting mushrooms faded and was replaced with a pungent black tea smell- a familiar woodsy odor that stirred instead me. I heard a woman’s voice telling me about Fred . . . the woman that stood outside the old school looking whole and human and alive the day I went to investigate Fred . . . the woman that wasn’t really there. She was the first ghost I'd ever seen and I’d nearly forgotten about her. “What just happened?’ Melinda’s voice echoed. She sounded far away. “They’re gone. The mushrooms are gone.” Kyle said. I could barely hear him. My hand was on my knee, feeling the itchy purple carpet beneath me. The mushrooms and their sticky juice were gone without a trace. My black tights were clean.  “Do you smell tea?” I asked, my hand still planted on the casket. It wasn’t floating anymore. It stood perfectly still, on a sma

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Random Creepy Photo in Morgan's Camera. Freaky right?? Hey Humans! Join our email list to be the first to know when new stories drop! Click on the upper left icon on the blog and you'll see a place to enter in your email. With love, The Undead Society

The Funeral Home: Part 2- Follow the Yellow Brick Road

Midnight, ebony, night sky . . . blacks of every shade and texture surrounded us that morning. The day had come- the day of Melinda’s great great aunt’s viewing.  I’d never seen a dead person before and I wasn’t looking forward to it. Would she look peaceful? Would she look human?  I’d had fitful dreams the night before about the stinking mushrooms Mel had brought to the cemetery. We’d sealed them in a mason jar and left them in the grounds keeper’s shed, on top of the mini fridge with a note for Pete the grounds keeper not to open them. “DON'T OPEN! These smell like death!!” Melinda had written.  I followed Kyle, up the concrete stairs, through the front door, into the large meeting room of Beatrice's Funeral Home. A mingled scent of roses and musk filled my nostrils. I heard Melinda let out a surprised snort from behind. No stink. No mushrooms . . . at least not in here. Kyle motioned for me to follow him to an open corner. Melinda trailed behind. W