Crunch: The Other Ghost
Writing Exercise #26
Inspired by
’s recent ghost story Weeper at the Wake, I decided I want to try my hand at a crunch-sized take on a ghost story. Additional inspiration is this video, the song is called “2 Ghosts I” from an album called “Ghosts I-IV” by Nine Inch Nails. I’ve wanted to write something inspired by this for a long, long time. Happy for the stars to have aligned just so!If you have ideas for Prompts, Crunches, Sprints, Relays, or other writing exercises in the future, please leave them in the comments! If you would like to write your own take for this exercise, please comment with a link so that I can see what you wrote and support your work, maybe even share your version with my subscribers. Please let me know if you have any thoughts, comments, or constructive criticisms as well!
Enjoy!
Crunch: Write about a ghost
I took a tentative step forward.
They told me this was the room the ghost was in.
I looked back at my colleagues. We had come prepared—all kinds of ghost hunting equipment. But a part of me knew—he wouldn’t come out for the equipment. One of us needed to make an act of trust, and maybe they would trust us. It’s a strange code of ethics among ghosts.
This ghost was known as “Handsome Harry”. Legend has it the living-Harry had wandered off after drinking some night centuries ago, gotten lost in the woods, found this cabin. They found his blood-stained ID and plenty of his DNA, but he was gone. A cold case.
I tried not to think about it. I took another tentative step forward. The darkness felt like it was enveloping me, wrapping around me.
I said, “Hello?”
I was expecting my voice to echo in the empty room, but the thick darkness absorbed the sound.
“My name is James Truman.” I listened—nothing.
“I am looking for Harry Harkin?”
Still nothing.
“We know you as Handsome Harry.”
I looked back and shrugged—my colleagues were staring at something.
A faint image had coalesced—a man, a faint shape of a man. It was hard for me to see his features.
A ghastly, hollow voice whispered—“You shouldn’t have come.”
“Why?” I inquired loudly—perhaps trying to hide my own fear.
Another shape coalesced behind Harry. My blood ran cold.
The hollow voice whispered—“Run.”
(250 words)
The Promptee Has Become The Promptor
Your feedback helps to improve my writing. I would really appreciate a comment on your thoughts on this writing exercise. Consider telling me your thoughts about:
How do you feel about ghost hunting?
Have you ever seen ghost-busters?
When telling ghost stories around a fire, what is your favorite snack?
Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoy! Come back next week for another writing exercise!
Hey, before you go—have you read my recently published Serial, SANDBOX EARTH yet? You can buy a hardcopy too! Check it out at the link!
God bless!
Centuries ago no one knew about "blood-stained ID and plenty of his DNA." My only quibble.
Very effective piece, achieving the appropriate chill.
I have seen ghost buster. S'mores of course. I have no desire to encounter a ghost.
Here's why.
Crunch: Dear Departed
A middle-aged woman with greying hair and a red bathrobe stood in her mother's bedroom packing her suitcase. It was a large room with twin beds that could be pushed together to make one king-sized bed, and slightly fusty wallpaper decorated with little purple and blue violets. Quality turn of the century maple furniture had seen a lot of use, and a lamp made of milk glass illuminated the room, casting long shadows.
The house was silent. The woman cried silently. Her mother had died just a few days before in this very room, from a massive heart attack. It was very hard to witness her mother's death and the memories kept flashing through her mind.
Now she was packing to meet her husband in Hawaii. He was serving in Viet Nam and had been given R & R to go to Hawaii because of his wife's loss. They had not seen each other in 8 months.
She picked up a white negligee to fold it for the suitcase. Suddenly a wind blew through the open window, and the dog growled. Her hair stood on end. A hollow voice said, "Have a good time in Hawaii, honey."
She grabbed the dog and ran.
Loved it, Scoot!