Short Horror Stories

Millfield Orphanage

Claire Anderson gripped the steering wheel tightly as her car bumped along the overgrown dirt road leading to the old orphanage. The sun hung low on the horizon, casting long, foreboding shadows over the decaying building. Her editor's words echoed in her mind: "Find the truth about the Millfield Orphanage. The readers love a good ghost story."

The orphanage loomed ahead, a dark silhouette against the dusky sky. Windows were shattered, and ivy crept up the walls like skeletal fingers. Claire parked her car and stepped out, the chill in the air biting through her jacket. She glanced at the faded sign that read "Millfield Orphanage," shivering as she imagined the laughter of children that once echoed through the halls, now replaced by eerie silence. 

As she approached the entrance, the heavy wooden door creaked open with a groan, revealing a dimly lit corridor. Dust motes danced in the beams of her flashlight, and the air was thick with the scent of mildew and decay. Claire's footsteps echoed as she walked down the hallway, past empty rooms with peeling wallpaper and broken furniture. Her mind wandered to the stories she had heard from the locals in the nearby town. Tales of children who vanished without a trace, of a headmistress with a cruel streak, and of whispered rituals conducted in the dead of night. Claire shook off the unease and focused on her mission. She was here to uncover the truth, to separate fact from fiction. She set up her camera and began recording her observations. "This is Claire Anderson, reporting from Millfield Orphanage. The air here is thick with a sense of foreboding as if the building itself is alive with memories of its dark past."

As the last light of day faded, Claire's flashlight flickered, casting dancing shadows on the walls. She felt a chill run down her spine, but she pushed on, determined to find evidence that would bring the orphanage's dark history to light.

Millfield Orphanage was founded in the late 1800s by a wealthy philanthropist named Margaret Hale. Hale's vision was to create a safe haven for children who had lost their families to disease and poverty. For years, the orphanage thrived, and Margaret Hale was lauded for her humanitarian efforts. However, after her untimely death, things began to change. The new headmistress, Eliza Grimshaw, was a stark contrast to her predecessor. Stern and unyielding, she enforced strict discipline and harsh punishments. Rumors began to circulate about her involvement in dark rituals and her fascination with the occult. Children started to disappear, one by one, with no explanations given.

Claire sifted through old records and newspaper clippings she had brought with her. She found reports of children who had gone missing under mysterious circumstances, their bodies never found. There were whispers of a secret room where unspeakable acts were performed. The townspeople believed the orphanage was cursed, and eventually, it was forced to shut down.

She discovered a diary belonging to one of the former orphans, a girl named Lucy. The diary entries painted a chilling picture of life under Grimshaw's rule. Lucy wrote about the strange ceremonies that took place in the basement and the screams of children who were taken there, never to return. Claire's hands trembled as she read the final entry: "They're coming for me tonight. I know it. If anyone finds this, please tell the world what happened here."

Determined to uncover the truth, Claire decided to spend the night in the orphanage. She set up camp in what appeared to be the old common room, with its large fireplace and tattered sofas. The wind howled outside, rattling the broken windows and creating an eerie symphony of sounds. As darkness enveloped the building, Claire's flashlight became her only source of comfort. The silence was oppressive, broken only by the occasional creak of the floorboards. She couldn't shake the feeling of being watched, as if the orphanage itself was a living, breathing entity.

Around midnight, strange noises began to echo through the halls. Claire's heart pounded as she heard footsteps, followed by the faint sound of children laughing. She grabbed her flashlight and ventured out into the corridor. The beam of light cut through the darkness, revealing a series of faded, dusty portraits lining the walls. Their eyes seemed to follow her as she moved. At the end of the corridor, she found a door that was slightly ajar. She pushed it open and stepped inside, discovering an old classroom. Desks were overturned, and the chalkboard was covered in strange symbols. Claire felt a sudden chill and turned to see a shadowy figure standing in the doorway. She gasped, but when she blinked, it had vanished. Breathing heavily, she backed out of the room and returned to the common room. She tried to rationalize what she had seen, telling herself it was just her imagination. But deep down, she knew there was something more to the orphanage's dark history. She needed to find the locked room Lucy had mentioned in her diary.