Friday, October 10, 2014


Another October of Fox Spookiness 

2014 marks my third year doing the Fox True Ghost Story Project, and I am both delighted and inspired by its success. I’ve gathered some new and soulful stories from international sources, which you’ll be reading over the next month. I’d still like to gather some more, so please, send in those true stories!

Everyone has a ghost story, they just don’t always know it or accept it. Still, we’re not looking to be a litmus of truth. Folklore isn’t a science about science: it’s about the human condition, its experience. It doesn’t matter if these stories can be verified or specified, weighed and measured then replicated. It’s not about the haunting; it’s about the haunted, how the paranormal experience changed the subject. If they believe it or not, it still changed their lives, their experience and perception of the living world. 

Our first story comes from the east coast of the United States, submitted by Tracey Slade, wife of author Mark Slade. Mark is a good friend, and I’ve written him a few stories for his myriad projects. Mark keeps fighting, creating that background of material that fills up the back-shelves of the pulp world—the vital bones and lifeblood of the industry. I am happy to initiate my monthly archive with Tracey.

Williamsburg, Virginia

A place steeped in human history is bound to be bounding with boogey-men (and women.) Williamsburg is a 75 acre restored village, representing early life in colonial America. Places have spirits. Buildings remember; pieces of our lives break off and stay in the places of our lives. A young soldier still lingers at the Payton Randolph House, walking the halls at night. Lucy Ludwell at the Ludwell-Paradise House takes her Sunday baths, even though she’s been dead for three centuries. An old wooden wagon still rides Hangman’s ride—the infamous location where they beheaded Blackbeard the Pirate. These remind us that our history is never far, lingering like a bright image burned into the eye. We can still hear our past echoing.


Thank you Tracey for starting us off!

T. Fox Dunham – 

Head Spookologist. 
It’s foxy spooky time! 

Submitted by TRACEY SLADE 
Williamsburg, Virginia - 2001

A few years ago, we rented a house in Williamsburg, Va. It was my husband, our 2 year old daughter, and myself who lived there. My husband worked overnight so it was just my daughter and I on most nights. I don’t know what it was but I never felt comfortable or at ease there. Our daughter wouldn’t sleep in her room. Instead, she slept in the living room on the couch and I would sleep on the other couch. At night, I didn’t sleep well and sometimes it felt like someone was watching me.

The house had a deck on the back of the house that ran from the dining room all the way to our bedroom. One night my husband and I were asleep in our bedroom. Well, my husband was sleeping but I was wide awake. I heard a noise outside on the deck. It sounded like one of the plastic chairs was being dragged down the deck form the dining room to our bedroom. I woke my husband and asked, “Did you hear that”? He said, “No, what did you hear”? I told him what it sounded like and he said, “It’s probably a squirrel”. A squirrel? A squirrel! In the middle of the night?! Okay, I kind of blew it off but it definitely was not a squirrel.

I have always had an open mind about ghost and spirits ever since I was a child. On a night when my husband was at work, I definitely felt like this house had a ghost. My daughter was in the living room asleep and I was not. It was very late maybe 1am. I’m lying on the couch with my eyes closed. I hear music coming from my daughter’s room. It’s the music from her toy steering wheel. The kind that only plays the music only when you are turning the steering wheel. I lie there, petrified, knowing what this means. Someone or something is turning the steering wheel! I know what I have to do. I gather my courage and get up. I start walking down the hall toward my daughter’s room. The music is still playing. I get to the doorway. I reach around and flip on the light. The music stops. I look where the toy steering wheel is on the bookcase. The toy is perfectly sitting on the bookcase. It’s not turned over and not touching anything. It was so weird that the music stopped as soon as I switched on the light.

We ended up moving out of that house. We had a one year lease. But we only stayed nine months. The owner didn’t put up a fuss about us leaving early. He wanted to sell the house and tried to sell it to us. But we were not interested. Speaking of the owner, my husband and I thought the owner was kind of strange. But that’s another story.

Monday, August 11, 2014

No Really, True Story

Our first story for the campfire edition comes from an old friend and World of Warcraft partner. Azure brings us a story from her children. Children still have the eyes they were born with, innocent eyes that see the truth of the world before they become distorted by all the nonsense adults believe. Take a look at the natural world through the eyes of her children, and remember. . .


No Really, True Story!
Azure Shade

We were watching the movie Casper when the first incident happened. Now I can already see from your squint and raised eyebrow that you think this is crazy or stupid, or maybe both, well you aren't the only one. I can hardly believe it either, and I'm the one it happened to.

My niece Cherry and I were extremely bored one evening and decided to watch a movie. My kids were still small, only four and six at the time, so our choices were limited. Cherry held up a VHS tape of Casper, “How about this?”

I shrugged, “Well it's better than watching Rolie Polie Olie for the hundredth time.”

She put the tape in the VCR and tossed the movie's plastic dust cover on the top shelf of the bookcase. It landed on it's side next to the a fore mentioned and disparaged Rolie Polie Olie. We sprawled on the couch to watch Casper. Time crawled by leaving us feeling lethargic. That's when it happened.

Casper was telling someone “But I'm a friendly ghost.” on the TV. At that exact moment the VHS dust cover for the movie shifted itself to an upright position. It wobbled back and forth a few times before it stilled.

Cherry and I looked at the plastic case, then at each other. “Did you see that?” she asked, her eyes wide in disbelief.

I nodded, my own eyes a mirror of hers. “Yeah. That really just happened.” We blinked at each other a few times, movie and boredom entirely forgotten. I know it seems silly and if this was the only thing that happened that summer, we would have decided this was just our imagination playing with us, but it was only the beginning.

A few weeks later my four year old son Orion came to me. “Mommy, I don't like her.”

“Who don't you like baby, your sissy?” I asked as I gave him a hug.

“No, momma, I like sissy. I don't like her.” he said with a pout.

“Who is her baby?” I asked, being patient with his four year old explanations.

“The clear girl, she pinches me.”

“Clear? Is she a girl from daycare?”

“No momma, she in my room.” He said as he pointed down the hall. Whaaaat? I couldn't believe what I was hearing. Prickles began creeping up my neck. Could he mean a ghost? Maybe it was just imaginary play. I really had trouble believing what I was hearing.

“Orion, when you say clear do you mean you can see through her?” I hesitantly asked.

Orion nodded, “Yes mommy! She's clear!”

The prickles continued spreading. “Baby, is she the only clear person you see?”

He shook his head, “I see making friends and glass people too. I see her mommy too, her momma is nice. I tell on her and her momma makes her stop.”

My head swirled. Making friends and glass people?! What the hell is going on? I started to feel like I was in some sort of twisted version of Poltergeist or The Sixth Sense. This made me want to grab the kids and run away. I needed to calm down and find out more of what was going on without scaring Orion.

“Baby, what are the making friends and glass people?” I asked nonchalantly, and he began to tell me. Through many slow and pointed questions I learned that the making friends where shadowy figures that floated around and that even the ceiling fan could make them shift and move. The glass people were more defined and looked like humans, only mostly transparent. The shadowy making friends were nice and almost puppy like in demeanor, but the glass people terrified Orion. He said they didn't do anything to him, but they felt scary.

I had to ask myself some hard questions with this. I never let my kids watch scary stuff or anything meant for older kids. I was very strict in what I let come into their world. We as parents are their only defense against the world, and I took my role seriously. So I knew he didn't have anything to base these making friends or glass people on. That left me with only one answer.

They were real.

I was at a loss. What do I do? Weeks past when I carefully monitored Orion. His laughing and talking to himself took on new meaning. I'd always thought he was just babbling, like small children often do, but with the new information the things he would say started to make more sense.

Nothing bad happened though, no static TV's or possession. No sinking house or thumps on the walls. I began to relax. No, it probably wasn't normal for your son to have ghostly playmates, but what could I do?

The last thing that happened, was rather soothing, and also validation in it's own way. It was around ten PM in November, I was on the phone to my mom, chatting about nothing in particular. It was a beautiful night and I had the lights off and the windows open, letting in the soft cool breeze.

“No mom, I'll be over with the kids this weekend, I—wait . . . I just saw something in the hall, hang on a sec.” I leaned over the couch's arm rest and peered into the hall, craning my neck to get a better view. “There's a light in the hall.

What the eff? Mom, I thought the kids had got the flashlights again, but they're not awake and the . . . it's balls of light?”

“It sounds like orbs, hun’.” My mom said. “Cool, I've never seen them what do they look like?”

Leave it to my mom to think it was cool! “They're just sort of glowy and kinda . . . ugh I don't know how to describe it, Mom!”

Mom continued to talk to me but I sort of lost what she said in the background as the orbs continued to float closer. One was chest high and the other was about a foot and a half lower. The smaller and shorter of the two was slightly in front of the other.

The glow didn't illuminate anything around them. There was no reflection on anything else, but it wasn't a dim glow either. The orbs turned the corner moving through the edge of the living room and dining room, to stop in the kitchen.

There was no way a flashlight could have made those orbs. No windows could reach where the orbs stopped. Suddenly I remembered what Orion said months ago about the mom and daughter ghosts. Somehow it felt as if this strange energy was parent and child. I'm not sure why I felt that way, it just was. The orbs sank and disappeared. I was left with my mom on the phone, patiently waiting for me to respond. I explained what I'd seen and how it felt. Her response, “Sounds like the kid wanted something to eat.”

We moved a few months later. Orion stopped talking to himself and stopped talking about the making friends and glass people as soon as we moved. There was no more talk of the mom and her little girl who liked to pinch. Things went back to normal as if none of it ever happened. I sometimes talk to my niece Cherry or my mom about it, to reassure myself that we genuinely were haunted in that old house we rented when my kids were small.

Sunday, August 10, 2014

Campfire Month

Campfire Ghost Stories
From Collector T. Fox Dunham

We gaze into the hypnotic flicker of campfire flames, and our minds dream—campers and fire-goers, enjoying the ancient fire medium as we gather in the forest and fields. We gather our moss to spark, smolder and fallen limbs to burn, fighting the oldest battle of humankind: to expel the darkness. And when we seek a weapon to join in this physical battle of survival—a nourishment for the mind and spirit—we wield the story. This ritual is not just one of entertainment. The story is survival.

What kind of stories are told around campfires? Traditionally, we turn to ghost stories or tales of darkness to scare. These yarns imbue the circle with a means of taming those forces beyond human control and create wonder by testing the perceived limits of the physical world. There is a power in storytelling, and I share this power with you. I have long enjoyed the magic of telling ghost stories around a campfire, and when the stories are true—as all folklore possesses an element of truth—they can possess you.

So, in the two year tradition of The Fox True Ghost Story Project, I bring seven paranormal tales to fuel your campfire narratives, collected from international believers. Again, I do not seek to validate these stories, because that is not the purpose of folklore. I am here to collect, catalog and archive. So please enjoy my special campfire tales which I will be posting through the month of august.

And don’t forget: Get your Foxxy summer spooky on!

T. Fox Dunham is an internationally published author, member of the Horror Writer’s Association and story teller. He’s been published in multiple magazines, journals and anthologies. His first novel, The Street Martyr, is being produced into a motion picture by Throughline Films, and he’s finishing edits on his third novel, Mercy, a horror-medical thriller for Blood Bound Books. He’s a cancer survivor. His friends call him fox, being his totem animal, and his motto is: Wrecking civilization one story at a time. Site: Blog: & Twitter: @TFoxDunham

From Horror Author T. Fox Dunham:

“I am the blighted one,” the voice spoke with its own flesh mouth, before the warriors came and ripped it from him. 
-- Digging Sandcastles by T. Fox Dunham

Available now from editor Florence Ann Marlowe and Noodledoodle Press, Terror at the Beach, featuring stories from many excellent horror authors and my short story. 

 TABLE OF CONTENTS: John 20:29' by Delphine Bosswell 'Meltdown' by Daniel Breitenfeldt 'Undercurrent' by David Court 'By the Light of A Drowning Sun' by Matthew R. Davis 'Digging Sandcastles' by T. Fox Dunham 'Under The Boardwalk' by Robert Hart 'The Sand Whirl' by David Longshore 'Salt Water Taffy' by Florence Ann Marlowe 'The Best Honeymoon Ever' by T. M. McLean 'Canned Crab' by Nick Nafpliotis 'Ride the Devil' by J. T. Seate 'Tourist Trap' by A. P. Sessler 'The Dare' by Gregory St. John.  

Thursday, October 31, 2013


Guy Anthony De Marco

I'm honored to have such a prestigious and talented storyteller like Guy sending me a ghost story. If you hear wild giggling--it's not a ghost. It's a Fox. -- Editor.

Here's a threesome of weird events. All are true.

When I was a very young kid growing up in New York City, we lived in an apartment over a restaurant. I remember being sick, probably with the influenza, and how I couldn't sleep on my little bed because it was so hot. I noticed a large shadow on my wall, like a man in a trenchcoat. The shadow would have come from someone standing at the foot of my bed.

I looked at the curtains to see where the light was coming from, and the curtains flew open. Outside the window I saw hundreds of hands waving at me, even though we were on the second floor. I held my breath, and the curtains shut, then opened again and repeated. I screamed bloody murder for my Mom, and she came in and held my sweaty body in her arms, pressing a cool washcloth to my forehead, until my fever went down.

When I was in my teens, I had a friend stay overnight. We had a spare bed in my room, and we were both chatting. Dewey was standing near the door and I was across the room by one of the beds. In the middle of our conversation, we both saw something appear, then drop from the ceiling between us. We tracked its descent in sync, but when we went to look for whatever it was, there was nothing there. It fell into an open area of the room, so it wouldn't have had a chance to hide away before we looked.

In one of the houses I've owned over the years, we've had an entity we called Un lurking about. The animals could all sense its presence, and they would track things scurrying around the ceiling and hanging around the corners. The dogs would bark at it, including the dogs we would watch for friends. There was one room the dogs refused to go in. We'd always get a creepy, spine-tingling feeling before the animals reacted to the presence. My oldest daughter used to talk about a ghost of a small boy who would visit her late at night. We assumed that's who Un was. It followed us to the next house, but it didn't make the trip when we moved to a different state.


Guy Anthony De Marco is a speculative fiction author; a Graphic Novel Bram Stoker Award finalist; winner of the HWA Silver Hammer Award; a prolific short story and flash fiction crafter; a novelist; an invisible man with superhero powers; a game writer (Sojourner Tales modules, Interface Zero 2.0 core team, D&D modules); and a coffee addict. One of these is false.

Guy is a member of the following organizations: SFWA, HWA, SFPA, IAMTW, ASCAP, RMFW, NCW. He hopes to collect the rest of the letters of the alphabet one day. Additional information can be found at and

Wednesday, October 30, 2013


WITH DAVE CONSIDINE & BARBIE HEID - Phantasm Psychic Research Team 
Interviewed by T. Fox Dunham

Dave Considine and Barbie Heid along with the members of the Phantasm Psychic Research Team are the premier ghost hunters in the world now that the Warrens have passed on. They’re leading the efforts to pull back the layer of the otherside. They were kind enough to answer a few questions for me for the project this year.

Q: How did this whole ghost hunting thing get started?

We developed into what you see today as the Phantasm Psychic Research Team over time. All of us who are members of the team basically started off with personal "paranormal" experiences, which inspired us all early in life to seek further information on the subject. Being of like minds, it just worked out that individually all of us over the years in our own personal journey at different times became investigators for Ed and Lorraine Warren and this is where we all met.

Q: Could you describe your method to my readers? Is it a process you’ve developed?

The Phantasm Psychic Research Team is very clear in its belief system and investigative techniques. We seat ourselves in the category of both ghost hunting and religious demonology, the study of how supernatural and preternatural beings can intercede in the lives of humans. In other words, we believe there are different types of spirits, not just those of the deceased. The first thing we do is determine the severity by conducting interviews over the phone initially, followed of course by a physical investigation. We try to build a timeline of the events that resulted in the situation. The stages are classified as invitation, obsession, infestation, oppression, and possession. It is important to note that we can only aid a person if they choose to be alleviated of this problem. An investigation is fruitless unless the person wants the spiritual assault to stop.

If they willingly invited it in, they have to want it to leave or we can be of no help.

Q: I know by now you must be experts just from the experience you’ve had, and that many formal institutions don’t offer paranormal research as a major. What sort of training have you had? Was it formal or private study?

Dave was trained personally by Ed Warren as a religious demonologist, which led to him being the assistant to Catholic exorcist + O.P Bishop Robert McKenna. Also over the years he worked very closely with many other noted figures in the fields of paranormal research, including exorcist Fr. Malachi Martin, Fr. James Lebar of the New York Arch Diocese and Fr. Rama Coomaraswamy, M.D Assistant Director of the Albert Einstein institute of Psychiatry NY, New York, among others. Dave is also a trained in drug, alcohol and domestic violence counseling which helps greatly in our case work when dealing with individuals and families.

So, with the combined knowledge of everyone in the Phantasm Psychic Research Team from working already with the Warrens and drawing knowledge from there own backgrounds, under the direction of Dave we developed into Phantasm Psychic Research as you see it today and we have been in operation since 1994.

Q: You and your group are internationally recognized ghost hunters. I’ve seen you on telly live and depicted by actors. It must attract a lot of attention. So you must get a lot of requests from people for help. How do you determine which cases you investigate?

Yes, we do receive a lot of emails and letters from around the world, but we never turn anyone away who wants help, even if it’s not a spiritual problem. Sometimes, it comes to light during the interview phase that the person may actually be suffering from a psychiatric problem. In that instance, we would stay with them until they got the psychiatric help they need. When a case takes this path, usually we have to bring in the whole family and set up counseling for them as well. But we never leave a case until it is completely done and the family has what they need.

Q: You’ve been at this awhile. You must have had some cases that fizzle out on and some cases that shake your understanding of life and death. When you think back to your collective experiences, are there any events that stand out in your mind? Can you tell us about some of those stunning experiences?

To be honest, some cases don’t turn out the way you would like to see them end. Occasionally, if the family’s faith is not centered correctly, or if there were already domestic problems present, the situation may lead to the breakup of a family. That’s something we hate to see, and we are always waiting in the wings to provide further counseling, and or professional help if they require it. But normally, we are able to use the individual or family’s faith to wrap up cases successfully and get them back on the road they need to be on with their faith.

There are quite a few cases we can think of actually, but two in particular come to mind. The cases we are speaking of had to do with a morti­cian’s assistant who was a satanic necrophiliac and had become pos­sessed by a demon and the other was a demonic infestation in a home here in Connecticut which involved a magic mirror.

The disturbing details involving these two cases will haunt us for a long, long time.

Q: Tell us about your cadre of paranormal detectives.

The Phantasm Psychic Research Team includes twelve members, and reinforcements when necessary. Each one of us has a specific function. Dave Considine is a religious demonologist and also is the director & cofounder of Phantasm Psychic Research. Barbara Considine is the cofounder of the group, and an investigator specializing in counseling individuals and families. Barbie Heid is PPR's case manager and investigator. John Arel is the group's technical director. Investigator Mark Oneto is responsible for “security” for the group, which in this field involves both visible and invisible threats. Our team’s logistics guy is Investigator Chris Daddio, who a lot of times has to meet the groups needs in completely unpredictable situations. Jeff Messenger and Linda Oneto, and Julie Groom are veteran investigators, always ready for the next task - wherever it may be.

Our team works with many exorcists and deliverance ministers, but we do have our own core group of clergymen whom we work with consistantly. These men are of great faith, and seasoned individuals in there field of expertise. Exorcist +O.P Bishop Robert McKenna has helped many people over the years, and Phantasm has been blessed with his help in many of our cases where it was necessary for Exorcism. Exorcist +Father K is essential to the group, for he is our field exorcist and we count on him greatly in our out of state as well as local cases especially when we feel exorcism may be needed. Deliverance Minister +Reverend Leon Wilkes is also a great asset due to his ministry, knowledge and faith.

Q: Are you off on any cases now? Something coming up in the future?

We just wrapped up four cases, all in the Midwest, and we have three more waiting for our help down the Atlantic seaboard. We don’t like to take on too many cases at a time because we like to be able to give them the individual attention they need.

At this time we are involved with multiple feature film, television documentary projects and are currently on our 2013-2014 lecture tour Night of the Haunted, Beyond the Paranormal. We are also looking forward to releasing our new book- “Where Angels Fear To Tread”, which will highlight cases the Phantasm Psychic Research Team has been involved with over the years.

Q: Do you believe sans a doubt that there is life after death? It would be comforting if you said yes and told me why. I’m a bit scared.

We believe that there is more than just a patch of grass and a marker over our heads when we die. Death is not an end, but a beginning - moving forward into a new and higher dimension, one of enlightenment; and learning the answers to mysteries kept hidden while we inhabited the earth. Proof that as a being, as a soul, we do survive the grave.



Tuesday, October 29, 2013


The Gold is Mine Part II: She’s just trying to Communicate 
Told by Robert Royal. 
Recorded by T. Fox Dunham
Denton, Texas. 1970s

“It’s all right children. It’s all right.”

Tonight's tale is the continuation of Robert Royal's experience as a child. Part I can be found earlier in this blog.


Rob is sitting with me at Molly Maguire’s in Lansdale. He’s just moved Royal Comics and Gaming, his business into a smaller store, and it looks fantastic. He is a skilled decorator and always knows how to utilize a space. Lee, his husband is watching the store while he steals away a few moments to tell me more of the story about his experiences as a child in the old antebellum house in Denton, Texas.

Shortly after the voice experience with his mother as told in part I, his family would hear footsteps in the house, walking in the halls or up the stairs to the level with their bedrooms. The floorboards would creak. The house came alive with activity. Young Robert heard people ascending to the next level, yet no one was on the stairs. Other strange incidents started to happen in the house, building as they resided over the months. The family would sit in the den, and they heard cabinet doors in the kitchen slam shut. He’d walk into the kitchen, and every single door would be flat-out opened. She was letting them know her presence.

This is a pretty common phenomenon in a haunting, usually starting with footsteps. The cabinets open and shut, letting know the living aren’t alone. They’ll sound footfalls or open doors. It’s how the activity usually begins and generates. –Fox

All of this happened while the voices continued. Rob and his sisters would hear their mother’s voice calling from different parts of the house but find those wings vacant when they’d go to find out what their mother wanted. It was always the mother’s voice calling to them.

* * *

Then, building up energy, she manifested to the children.

Rob’s parents were avid ballroom dancers, and once a month they’d go out dancing. So the family would have a babysitter in the evening. This particular babysitter was sixteen years old, very nice. And Rob’s younger sister Darlene who was seven at the time noticed a woman in the backyard. So the four of them stared at the woman through the plate glass window, and the apparition moved from one spot to the other in blink of the eye. The ghost was a brunette, hair to the shoulders with a ruffled blouse and a matron’s skirt—a wardrobe from another time. You’d blink, and she’d teleport around the yard. The third time she did this, she appeared partially in and out of the grand oak, at which point they looked at each other and noticed that their babysitter was no longer there. The kids looked behind them and found the front door wide open. The babysitter had fled, terrified. When they looked back, the apparition had moved close to the house, standing but a foot from the window. This scared the hell out of the kids, and as they ran to hide upstairs, they heard spoken in their mother’s voice:

“It’s all right children. It’s all right.”

They hid in their mother’s grand bedroom in the closet until they heard their father’s voice calling to them. They couldn’t be certain of their mother’s voice, since the ghost stole it. That was the only time they saw the ghost. And that was enough for a nine year-old-boy.

His mother tried to reassure them that the ghostly matron was just trying to communicate. It played its mischief until the end, when it turned hostile.

Every so often, they’d find a dead blackbird in the odd room. They had no idea how the bird got into the rooms, with the flumes sealed and windows shut. The bird would be freshly dead and didn’t even have a chance to decompose.

It didn’t get bad until the family decided to build a pool in the backyard. That’ll be part III.

Stay tuned Fox Kids.


by Beth Murphy 

I used to live in a condo in Methuen, and my husband at the time traveled for work and was gone most nights. We were close to a neighboring town with a high crime rate, and I was a little wary of the shady characters roaming the streets at night. I wanted to put a deadbolt on the door, so I picked one up at a hardware store but couldn’t find any tools once I got back to the condo to install it. 
I searched the drawers in the kitchen to no avail, and decided to check the basement.

I found nothing there, either, and was pretty unsettled by the noises I was hearing outside so at that point was feeling pretty desperate to find something to get the bolt on the door. I don’t know why, but I opened the same kitchen drawers again, and they were there--a screwdriver and a hammer.

At the time, I knew there was no logical explanation, so I thought maybe it was my husband’s late father lending a helping hand.

But years later, in a startling coincidence, I learned that my *current* husband’s late father had actually lived there in that very same condo some time before me...and I knew that while I had been wrong about who put those tools in that drawer, I was right about something else.