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Deep within the pine forests of Oregon, campers recently reported an unsettling sound like a child laughing in the dead of night. No tracks were ever discovered, yet the laughter seemed to follow them for miles. Years later, the woods remain silent, holding secrets that no one dares uncover.

You're alone in your bathroom, washing your face. As you look up, your reflection doesn't. It stays staring down at the sink, while something moves in the mirror behind you. You can't turn around. You can't look away.

Deep within the walls of the abandoned asylum, witnesses claim to hear the desperate cries of patients long forgotten. The air grows heavy with a chilling presence, as if the agony of their final moments remains trapped in time, waiting for an unsuspecting soul to wander too far into the darkness.

They found an old record player in the basement nobody remembers buying it sits there collecting dust but sometimes at night it plays by itself whispers between the static voices calling your name if you listen close enough you'll hear them promising things but whatever you do don't answer back

In the attic of an old bookshop, where dust motes danced like fallen stars, a peculiar mirror stood forgotten. Sarah noticed her reflection didn't blink when she did, and the books behind her showed different titles in the glass.

I finally decided to explore the crawlspace behind the laundry room wall. Tucked away in a rusted metal tin was a single photograph of a family dinner. The faces were all blurred out, except for a tall, pale figure standing in the shadows, grinning directly at the camera.

I never meant to find that box in my grandmother's attic. It was just sitting there, covered in dust, with my name scratched into the lid. Inside were dozens of photos of me sleeping - all taken through my bedroom window. That's when I realized why she always insisted I keep my curtains open.

Rule number three: If you see a passenger wearing a red scarf in the rearview mirror, but not through your windshield, continue driving normally. Don't acknowledge them, don't speak to them, and most importantly, don't stop until you cross Canal Street.