Haunted UK Fiction

Ink & Influence - Dean Koontz: The art of uncertainty Between the stories we tell, there are the stories that shape them. While we prepare for the next season of Haunted UK Fiction, we’re taking a moment to step away from the stories, and into their origins. Ink and Influence is a short-form series exploring the authors, ideas, and moments that gave rise to some of the darkest and most endurin...

Ink & Influence: H.P. Lovecraft | Cosmic Horror and the Infinite Between the stories we tell, there are the stories that shape them. While we prepare for the next season of Haunted UK Fiction, we're taking a moment to step away from the stories, and into their origins. Ink and Influence is a short-form series exploring the authors, ideas, and moments that gave rise to some of the darkest and m...

This is Haunted UK Fiction, original stories of the supernatural, the monstrous, and the unknown. As we wait for our next season, we're delighted to bring you a special bonus story from one of our most beloved storytellers – the residents of the weird and wonderful village of Willerby. Tonight's tale follows Jamal, a man accustomed to slipping through time. But this time, instead of glimpsing the...

Join Steve and Melissa as they run through the fatastically scary stories released over the couse of Season 2 of the podcast, and as they discuss the future of Haunted UK Fiction and release details for Season 3. Become a supporter of this podcast: https://www.spreaker.com/podcast/haunted-uk-fiction--6761767/support . Enter the world of Haunted UK Fiction — a paranormal fiction podcast and sister...

“I rounded the hillock. It did not conceal a tumbledown wall. Instead, to my utter amazement, I beheld a neat littlebungalow standing behind a trim lawn. It was sheltered below a high ridge in the land behind, and between the two acrescent of tall poplars embraced it to offer further protection from the elements. I was astonished – I could hardly havebeen more so if the little house been made out...

Not all ghost hunts are what they seem... “My companions listen to our guide as she fills us with tantalising fear. Stories of murder and suicide, bodies dismembered or swinging from ropes drip from her scarlet lips with gregarious enthusiasm. She is captivating and vivacious in a dirty kind of way. She flicks her dusty blond hair over her shoulder, and her blue eyes dart a glance towards me. For...

The conclusion of this eerie, atmospheric story... “She lowered her voice, almost to a whisper and glanced to and fro as if cautious of her surroundings. “I think, perhaps, that you might not be able to endure the experience.” Initially, I thought that this little put down of hers was typical of her character; it was both something of a good-natured tease and a defensive stance against what she re...

Beneath the still waters of The Mosses, something ancient waits... This is part 1 of a 2-part episode. “These marshes and bogs beheld a great abundance of streams which criss-crossed the rough grass in huge spider-web formations. These streams grew, split, thickened and slowed so very gradually until, at the very heart of the marsh, all gentle trickling ceased and great pools of brown water stood...

A house that doesn’t behave. A space that won’t stay still. What if reality has rules… and this Willerby house breaks them? "Mauve went round the house with Caitlin pulling down every blind, closing every curtain and turning off every light. “Where we’re going don’t fit with the shape of this world we’re used to,” she said, “and seeing things in it will mislead us. What looks, I don’t know, like a...

A late-night train. A silent passenger. Some journeys shouldn’t be taken alone. “A faint suggestion of an arm could be made out from the folds and depressions in the blanket. Stranger still, Jake ascertained by its stance and posture that the figure was facing the wall, its nose all but touching it. As he looked at this shrouded figure the train had begun to move and leave the station. A few secon...

A hospital at night. Empty corridors. The sense of something that shouldn't be there. “ It was 02:17. That hour again — the one that stretched too long, when the lights hummed and even the air seemed to wait... she felt wrong. Off balance. Watched. The panel glowed red: ROOM SIX. The door was ajar. She was certain she’d closed it... A shape stood inside, pale against the dim light... She pushed th...

A collection of 3 strange micro-tales... “A just perceptible sigh came from the thing in his hand, and a dark, rich brown powder appeared. Like smoke, it drifted into the air just past his face and blew towards the fence before vanishing…” In this Flash Fiction Friday episode, we present three short, unsettling tales, each offering a glimpse into something strange, fleeting, and quietly disturbing...

When the lines between hauntings, nightmares, and reality blur... ‘What about the noises, Daddy?’…” What begins as a familiar moment, a child unsettled in the night, slowly unravels into something far more sinister and disturbing as the line between nightmare and reality begins to blur. Some fears can be explained, others… can’t. This original paranormal horror story explores protection, perceptio...

A childhood ghost experience ties into an ghostly encounter decades later... “ I cowered beneath the duvet, pulling it up to my nose, my eyes just peeking over the edge as I watched her loom above me. She seemed impossibly tall, towering over me, and for a moment we just stared at each other. A few seconds — but it felt like a lifetime. Then she lifted her veil…” What begins as a terrifying moment...

Not all nightmares are born of pure imagination... “Tim’s breath caught. He pushed himself upright, heart hammering. Slowly, as if drawn, he reached out a hand. He hesitated and looked around the room, searching for an alternate explanation. There was nothing. When he looked back at the wall, the shadow had changed. It was no longer shapeless. It had a face…”   What begins as a restless night quic...

A water spirit. An old legend. And a story that may not behave the way you expect… “Nixie… a shapeshifting spirit said to lure the unwary into dark waters.” This April Fool’s special takes a familiar piece of folklore and turns it on its head — blending the eerie with the unexpected, and reminding us that not every story is here to frighten… some are here to surprise. Because on April 1st, anythin...

Should people tell their guests about the ghosts lingering in their homes...? “The staircase was just behind the sofa in the open-plan living room and once, a coat hanger tumbled down the stairs unaided. There was nobody upstairs, however there was a small pile of hangers on the top step and maybe one of them was loose. These odd events I could explain logically. Ghosts don’t exist…” At first, it’...

The past does not always stay buried... “ When Lisa tried to leave the village to go shopping, she found the turn onto the main road going to Beckworth blocked. The hedges had grown to an enormous size and intertwined themselves over the tarmac like the fingers of two clasping hands. By pushing the leaves aside, she could just see through. Cars were rushing past, but none slowed, and Lisa wondered...

A quiet afternoon in a graveyard becomes something lasting and bittersweet... “What struck me about the cemetery, aside from the pounding heat, was the serene atmosphere. There was a keenly felt tranquillity to the place which enhanced every aspect of the experience...This was a place existing in the space between both words and worlds…” What begins as an ordinary afternoon soon becomes something...

TriskadeCATphobia: Three Cat tails... er, tales... one superstition. “When I first arrived, the spirits were no more than shadows and mist. As a kitten, I’d pounce and tumble on tendrils of fog. Madame was angry at first, but soon discovered that her visitors willingly accepted my mewling as the sounds of spirits from beyond the veil…” To mark Friday the 13th, this special Flash Fiction Friday epi...

Not every reflection belongs to the person standing before it... “It wasn’t dramatic at first. Just little things. A prickle on the back of her neck whenever she passed the hallway mirror. The way her phone screen sometimes lit up on its own, reflecting her face too pale, too elongated. The kitchen window fogging faintly when she stood near it, though the air was dry…”  What begins as a series of...

Sometimes the cold cuts deeper than expected... “It was cold. She worked her fingertips into the ice, appreciating the smoothness of the whale’s skin. The longer she held her hand there, the damper her palm became. She could even feel the water seeping into the edge of her sleeve. The guilt struck her like a sledgehammer. There shouldn’t be that much water, surely. Was the sculpture even there any...

For hundreds of years it stood silent, waiting... “Seems everywhere has its own ghosts. I’ve heard all the stories, the thing I don’t know is why Lincoln is so bloody haunted!” “I can tell ye,” said a voice... An old man in his late 70s, peaked cap and waxed jacket, sat beside them. “I can tell ye,” he repeated, leaning on his elbow with his hand under chin...” What begins as a casual conversation...

A storm rising. A figure revealed. Some events are sadly destined to repeat... “The swell of the waves was much higher now and I could hear them crashing against the cliffs... The shrubs in the garden swayed in the wind.  The scene was almost unrecognisable as the location of my walk earlier in the day. My eyes glanced to the left along the path that I had used. A sudden flash of lightning highlig...

A guest at a manor house bears witness terrible events unfolding again and again... “ There, stood by the bannister and staring down at me with an intensity I found hard to bear, was a man, smartly dressed, with thick black hair and black side whiskers.  What I noticed most were his angular features and prominent cheekbones.  I stood there, frozen to the spot and meeting his cold stare for what se...