The Haunting Truth | A Halloween Night with the Ouija Board

The Haunting Truth | A Halloween Night with the Ouija Board

Setting the Scene

Halloween night. The kind where fog rolls thick over the streets and porch lights glow like dying embers. A group of friends wandered toward an old, abandoned house on the edge of town — the kind people cross the street to avoid even in daylight.

It was supposed to be harmless fun. A dare, a thrill, something to brag about later. The house loomed ahead, windows hollow and unblinking, its wooden siding peeling like dried skin. Inside, the air was sharp and cold, every floorboard moaning under their weight.

Someone — it didn’t matter who — brought the Ouija board. It was old, its letters faded and its planchette carved from dark wood. They cleared a space on the dusty floor, lit candles in a shaky circle, and laughed to hide their unease. The laughter didn’t last long.

The Board Begins to Move

Their fingers rested on the planchette. At first, nothing happened. The air felt still, too still — as if the house itself was holding its breath. Then, slowly, the planchette began to glide.

A nervous laugh broke the silence. “Who’s pushing it?” someone asked. No one answered. The board spelled out a single word: HELLO.

The room fell silent.

They asked questions — silly at first, then serious. The answers came faster than anyone could have expected. Names, dates, secrets only they could know. One friend, Sarah, went pale when the board spelled out her childhood dog’s name. Another, Jonah, froze as it mentioned a job interview he hadn’t told a soul about.

That was when the fear started to settle in — slow, creeping, and certain.

The Spirits Turn Dark

The questions became desperate. The answers became cruel.

The board spelled things none of them wanted to see: places, numbers, and — worst of all — dates. One date matched the following week. Another matched someone’s birthday. The planchette scraped over the wood, jerking violently as if tugged by unseen hands.

A candle went out. Then another.

The shadows deepened, stretching long across the floor, and for a moment, it looked like someone else was sitting among them — a figure too tall, too still, and too silent to be human.

“Stop the game,” someone whispered. But when they tried to move the planchette to “Goodbye,” it wouldn’t budge.

The Entity Reveals Itself

The answers stopped making sense — jumbled letters, numbers that repeated like a code. Then the message became clear:
WAITING.
ALREADY HERE.

A sudden gust swept through the room, snuffing the last candle. The old house shuddered. One friend screamed that something had brushed against her neck — cold and wet like a hand reaching from below the floorboards.

They bolted for the door, tripping over chairs and debris. Outside, the wind howled through the trees, carrying what sounded like laughter — faint but unmistakable.

When they turned back, a dim light glowed through the upper window. Someone was still inside.

Only when they counted did they realize — every one of them was standing outside.

The Aftermath

The board was never found.

In the weeks that followed, strange things happened. One by one, the friends began reporting knocks on their doors at 3:00 a.m. Always three knocks. Always followed by silence.

A few claimed to see words scrawled in fog on their mirrors: GOODBYE.

No one spoke of it again, but on every Halloween since, the same house is said to light up for a single hour. A candle flickers in the window. A planchette moves across the board.

And if you listen closely enough, you might still hear them — the friends who wanted to play.

Written by Whispers in Nightmares