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Hungry Ghosts: The Terrifying Bishop Family Haunting in Taiwan · Mystery Archives Episodes

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In the lush mountains of Taiwan, beneath the constant veil of
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mist and rain, a beautiful mansion promised comfort and
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prestige to an American family starting a new chapter abroad.
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But behind its glass walls and marble floors, something ancient
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was waiting. They were not alone.
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What began as whispers in the night soon grew into footsteps,
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voices calling from the dark, and finally violent attacks no
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skeptic could dismiss. The bishops had unknowingly
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stepped into a battlefield between the living and the
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restless dead spirits starved of offerings, bound by tragedy and
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hungry for the energy of the living.
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This is their story, true, terrifying and unforgettable.
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In the humid nights of Taiwan, when the summer rains swell
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rivers and missed coils through the valleys, there is a month
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that no family dares to ignore. Lanterns glow at doorways,
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incense smoulders on sidewalks, and baskets of food are left on
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Stoops. Not for the living, but for the
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dead. This is Ghost Month, the time
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when the gates of the underworld are said to open, releasing the
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restless and the hungry into the world of men.
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In Chinese belief, these are not the honored ancestors who
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receive reverent offerings at family altars.
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These are the forgotten dead, the souls of those who perished
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violently or without descendants to honor them.
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They wander, gaunt and hollow, tormented by insatiable
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appetites that rice wine and paper money can only briefly
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ease. They are known as the Uruguay,
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the hungry ghosts. To neglect them is to invite
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disaster. Fire start without cause.
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Illness takes root. Misfortune stalks a household
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until it buckles under the weight of unseen company.
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So each August, families appease the hungry dead with careful
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rituals, the living light, the path of the forgotten, hoping
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that food and flame will buy peace for another year.
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But what of those places where violence left a scar so deep the
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earth itself refuses to forget? What of homes raised on soil
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blackened by tragedy, where spirits were never guided
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onward, never offered release? It was in such a valley that the
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Bishop family would come to live.
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An American father, his wife and two daughters, strangers to
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Taiwan's ancient customs, arrived with optimism and
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curiosity. They believed the house they
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were given was a gift, a token of success.
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They could not know that it was already claimed by others, souls
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that had not left and perhaps would never leave without taking
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something in return. The bishops would learn, as
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countless Taiwanese had whispered for centuries, that
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the hungry dead do not sleep. They linger, waiting for the
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living to feed them. And in the mountains outside
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Taipei, in a mansion gleaming with glass and marble, those
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spirits had waited long enough. The year was 1984.
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An opportunity had knocked for Dennis Bishop.
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After years of grinding the corporate ladder, he had finally
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been promoted to a senior position with his company, a
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posting that would take him and his family halfway across the
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world to Taipei, Taiwan. To Dennis, it was a dream.
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To Candace, his wife, it was a step into the unknown.
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For their daughters, Stacy, who was 16 at the time, and Marissa,
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who was just 12, it was an adventure waiting to unfold.
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The company spared no expense. A driver was provided, as well
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as housing befitting Dennis's new stature as ACEO.
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The Bishops, accustomed to modest suburban living in the
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States, were stunned when they were taken to see the house that
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would become their home. It sat at the base of the miss
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draped Yang Ming Mountains, massive and imposing, far from
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the bustle of Taipei's crowded streets.
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The road curved past rice paddies, scattered cemeteries
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and the ruins of farms until the driver slowed before the gates.
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Beyond them, the mansion rose like a fortress, it's large
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windows reflecting the Gray sky. For Marissa, it was
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breathtaking. The biggest house I'd ever seen,
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She whispered, her eyes sparkling with excitement.
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After years of cramped apartments, here was a palace,
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complete with a swimming pool shimmering in the humid air.
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She imagined running through its endless rooms, swimming until
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dusk, and playing in the gardens that seemed to stretch forever.
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Stacy, ever the skeptic, wasn't so easily charmed.
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She looked up at the upper windows, at the way that the
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mist pooled along the roof line. The house loomed too heavily,
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she thought, as though the mountain itself pressed down
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upon it. Something about it unsettled her
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and Candace. Candace's unease was immediate
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as the front door was opened and the family stepped inside.
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A heaviness settled on her chest.
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The air felt different, colder, though outside the heat was
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oppressive. She trailed her fingers along
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the wall as she moved through the entryway, and that was when
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it struck. An unseen fist, sudden and
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violent, slammed into her back. She stumbled forward, catching
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herself against a column, her breath ragged.
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Dennis turned around, alarmed. Stacy froze.
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Marissa giggled nervously, thinking that maybe her mom had
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tripped. But Candace knew better.
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She hadn't tripped. Something had chuffed her.
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She turned, eyes wide, but no one stood behind her.
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The cavernous foyer was empty. Her skin prickled.
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She forced a smile for her two daughters, not wanting to
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frighten them. The company representative
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talked about all of the amenities of the property, about
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its prestige and how lucky the bishops were to have it.
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The Candace's mind was elsewhere.
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It kept replaying that moment over and over again, the blow,
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the cold, the feeling of being watched the instant she crossed
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the threshold. For two weeks, she begged Dennis
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to reconsider. They toured other homes, and
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those homes were smaller, more humble, but were tucked in
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crowded neighborhoods. Nothing seemed to compare to the
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mansion. Nothing impressed Dennis the way
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the estate did. He saw in his success, stability
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and a future for his family abroad.
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Candace, however, only saw shadows.
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In the end, her protests were drowned out by reason and
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responsibility. With Dennis's career on the
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line, she relented. They would move into the
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mansion, she told herself. She would find a way to make it
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work. Yet even as boxes were carried
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in, even as Marissa danced through the hallways, Candace
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felt the mansion looming around her.
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The bishops believed they were settling into a home, but in
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truth, they had crossed into a domain that did not belong to
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them. The first weeks in the mansion
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were filled with contradictions, opulence and unease.
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Beauty and menace. To Marissa, the place was
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enchanted. She wandered its halls with awe,
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exploring room after room as though she had stumbled into a
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fairy tale palace. She swam in the pool until her
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fingertips wrinkled, delighted to finally have space to breathe
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and play. But to Candace, every corner
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whispered discomfort. The jungle pressed close to the
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estate, humidity clung to every surface, vines crawled along the
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outer walls, and each night the air rang with the buzz of
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cicadas and the calls of unseen creatures.
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The house seemed less a sanctuary than a fortress
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standing against a wilderness that wanted to creep back in.
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It was during one of those early evenings, while the family
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unpacked, that the jungle showed its teeth.
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Stacy's scream rang down the staircase.
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Dennis and Candace rushed upward, only to freeze at the
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sight of a giant spider. Its body thick and black, it
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clung to the wall near Stacy's door.
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Its long legs twitched as it crept slowly and deliberately.
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Marissa shrieked and leapt onto a chair.
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Dennis cursed under his breath, and Candace's skin crawled as
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her chest tightened. Their driver, HN, hurried in,
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wielding a shovel. With one brutal strike, he
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smashed the creature and its body crumpled to the floor.
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He stood over the remains, his expression grim.
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These spiders, he said softly. They go in pairs, so if you kill
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one, the other is always nearby. Candace felt a chill race down
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her spine. She found herself glancing
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toward the shadowed corners of the hallway, half expecting to
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see another set of legs scuttling towards them.
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That night, she lay awake imagining the mate's spider
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creeping silently into a bedroom.
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The pests were not the mansion's only gift.
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The rains came heavy as they did in Taiwan's monsoon season.
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Water streamed down the mountainside and into the house
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itself. The walls began to drip, then
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the bedrooms. Streaks of moisture traced
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downward, like tears soaking carpets.
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Candace wrapped towels around the bases of the doors to hold
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the water back, but the mansion seemed determined to drown
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itself. Then came the electricity.
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At first it was little shocks, light switches that snapped with
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static when touched, and it grew worse.
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A flick of a switch sent painful jolts through fingertips, strong
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enough to leave Candace afraid of the lights themselves.
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She kept lamps unplugged and would sit with her daughters in
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the dark. Yet despite this, the power
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bills rose inexplicably far beyond what they could explain
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with normal use. Dennis grew frustrated,
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convinced the family was careless with the electricity.
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Candace argued back furiously. The house was draining them in
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ways that he couldn't or wouldn't see.
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And still, stranger things crept in.
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Late at night, Stacy swore she heard footsteps in her room,
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soft and deliberate, as though someone circled her bed in the
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dark. She pulled her covers tighter,
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her heart pounding, too afraid to cry out, and as too felted
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the faint whisper of her name in an empty hall, the flicker of a
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light at the edge of her vision. She told herself it was
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exhaustion, stress, the strangeness of life abroad.
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But deep down she knew she was being watched.
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The house, it seemed, had opened its eyes.
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Night fell differently in the mansion.
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The jungle pressed against the walls, the screaming of cicadas
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giving way to stillness that made every Creek echo louder
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than it should. It was in this silence that the
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first true whispers began. Marissa noticed less, at least
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at first. She still tried to find wonder
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in the house, though even she began to ask strange questions.
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One evening she peered out a window toward the dark yard and
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asked her sister. Is a Chen here, referring to
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their driver? But the yard was empty.
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There was no footsteps in the gravel, no sign of anyone.
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Stacy shivered at the question. The mansion was vast, but it
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never truly felt empty. It was as though the family had
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become guests in their own home, moving through rooms that belong
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to someone or something else. Candace's instincts screamed
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that something was wrong. She began to listen more
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carefully at night, to pause when the air shifted as though
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someone unseen had passed by. She didn't tell Dennis.
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He was already frustrated with the leaking roof, the electrical
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shocks, and the constant bills. To him, these were solvable
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problems. To her, they were symptoms of
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something far deeper, something alive in the walls, but for the
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sake of her daughters, she kept her fear tucked away.
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She smiled when she needed to, laughed when Marissa showed
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excitement. Yet each time she closed her
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eyes at night, she felt it. The weight of unseen eyes
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staring at her from the darkness, and in silence.
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The house grew bolder. For weeks, Stacy had grown
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accustomed to hiding her fear. She heard footsteps that had no
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source, whispers that carried her name through the dark, but
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she kept it all inside. She told herself that it was
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stress or imagination, and if she spoke, she feared she'd
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sound crazy. Her solace was Thomas, 16.
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Like her, it was a local boy. With an easy smile, he offered
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an escape from the mansion's suffocating atmosphere.
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Whenever she could, she spent the evenings at his home
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laughing, listening to music and forgetting the dread that seemed
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to hang like smoke over her family's new life.
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It was on one such evening, after Thomas dropped her off at
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the gate, that the house revealed itself.
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The night was humid, the jungle thick with the sounds of frogs.
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Thomas waited at the end of the driveway as Stacy slipped
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inside. He glanced back at the looming
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structure, its dark windows glinting faintly under the pale
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moon. And then he froze.
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At the top floor, a light flickered to life.
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Behind the glass, a woman's silhouette stood, her hair long,
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her figure motionless. She looked out into the night.
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To Thomas, she looked exactly like Candace.
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Bishop, alarmed, jolted through him.
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Something about her stillness, the way she stood in the shadow,
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that was wrong. He started the car, then
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hesitated. A cold dread whispered through
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him. What if she's in trouble?
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After rushing home, he quickly grabbed his family's phone and
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called Stacy. Stacy answered, surprised.
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Stacy. He said quickly with his voice
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shaking. Go check on your mom, please,
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right now, just please. I I saw her upstairs at the
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window and she didn't look right.
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He said. Stacy's stomach dropped.
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With her heart pounding, she raced through the mansion's
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halls, calling out for her mother.
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Marissa, alarmed followed, became frightened as well.
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Their voices echoed off. Marble and tile became
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increasingly desperate and urgent.
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Room after room lay empty, no movement, no sign of her.
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The house seemed to swallow their cries, as though mocking
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their search. Finally, a door opened and
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Candace stepped out of the master bedroom, startled by the
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commotion. She looked perfectly fine.
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Stacy stopped dead, her breath catching.
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Thomas's sighting replayed in her head, her mother's figure
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standing upstairs in the window, watching when she had been here
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all along. The realization washed over her
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like ice water. It hadn't been her mother.
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It had been something else. That night, the fragile silence
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between mother and daughter cracked.
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Trembling. Stacy confessed.
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The footsteps, the voices, the nights she felt something
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circling her in the dark. Candace's eyes widened, tears
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forming as she admitted the same, that she too had heard
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whispers, seen flickers of light, and felt the eyes of
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something unseen. They sat together in the heavy
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stillness, clinging to one another, no longer able to deny
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it. The house was haunted.
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The night after Thomas's sighting, silence weighed heavy
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on the House. Candace could feel it in her
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bones. The walls were watching them.
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The air was listening. The admission she and Stacy had
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shared only sharpened the tension.
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They were no longer keeping secrets.
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Now they knew they weren't alone.
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But knowing did not bring peace. It brought fear.
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Stacy drifted uneasily into sleep, her mind tangled with
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dread. In her dream, the mansion's
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corridor stretched endlessly, their walls slick with
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rainwater. She wandered, crying out for her
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mother. In the air smelled of smoke.
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Then she saw her. Candace was standing in the
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kitchen, her face pale and hollow.
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In her hands, a butcher's knife gleamed.
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Her eyes flicked upward, not her usual gentle gaze, but something
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feral, driven mad by terror. Without warning, Candace raised
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the blade, and Stacy's heart froze.
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She tried to scream, but no sound left her mouth.
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The nightmare shifted in jerks and flashes.
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Her mother was stalking her through the halls, knife in
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hand. Her father was crumpled in a
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corner. Marissa screamed as Candace's
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shadow loomed. Stacy then woke with a jolt, her
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body slicked with sweat. The image of her mother holding
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the knife clung in her mind like a stain.
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She sat up, trembling, realizing that the dream had not been
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random. It had been a warning, a
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premonition of what the house could drive them to.
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While Stacy was tormented by dreams, Candace waged her own
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battle against the dark. With Dennis away on a business
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trip, the weight of protection fell solely on her.
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Every night she gathered her daughters into the master
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bedroom. They slept together in one bed,
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the girls pressed close while Candace kept her eyes open,
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listening to the house. She had placed a butcher's knife
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and a baseball bat under the mattress.
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If the spirits came, if anything tried to touch her children, she
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would fight. The hours crawled.
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Shadows stretched and moved across the walls, twisting with
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each flicker of the storm outside.
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Sometimes she swore she heard someone standing just outside
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the door. Other times, Stacy would bolt
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upright, certain that she had heard the handle rattle.
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Candace would grip the knife, her pulse hammering, ready to
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face whatever endured. But nothing came, at least not
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yet. Returning from work, Dennis
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found his wife strung thin, his daughter's pale and restless,
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their eyes rimmed with sleepiness.
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He listened, but struggled to reconcile their terror with his
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own rationality. What do I tell my boss?
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He snapped. That we have to leave because
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the house is haunted? Candace pleaded for him to
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understand. Stacy begged him to believe.
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Even Marissa, usually innocent and carefree, grew quiet and
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uneasy. The mansion had become a
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battleground, not just between the bishops and whatever haunted
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them, but between their instincts and Dennis's
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disbelief. And in that rift, the house
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thrived. It seemed to feed on fear and on
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doubt, on the slow erosion, their strength.
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For Stacy, the nightmare would not leave her.
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Each time her mother reached for the knife at night, keeping
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watch with trembling hands, Stacy saw again the image of
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blood and madness. The house wasn't only haunting
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them, it was turning them against themselves.
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The Bishop family had come to Taiwan full of hope, but now the
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mansion was unraveling them thread by thread.
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The Bishop home had become a pressure cooker of fear.
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Every shadow seemed heavier, every silence more oppressive.
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Candace did her best to keep her daughter's clothes, to shield
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them from what she could no longer deny.
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But the house was patient. It was waiting for the moment
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when one of them was most vulnerable.
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And that moment came for Marissa.
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It was evening. Rain tapped against the wide
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windows in the jungle outside, buzzed faintly in the humid
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dark. Stacy was away with Thomas, and
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Candace had agreed to accompany Dennis to visit a neighbor's
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house down the road. It would be just for a little
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while. Marissa nodded when her mother
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asked if she'd be all right, but as the front door closed behind
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them, the mansion seemed to exhale.
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The vast hall stretched around her, too quiet and too still.
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She turned on the television to chase away the silence, but the
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sound only made the emptiness more noticeable.
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Shadows gathered in the corners of the room, deepening with each
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passing minute. Then came a sound, the door
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creaking open somewhere upstairs.
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Marissa's heart stuttered. She glanced towards the
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staircase, its banister vanishing Into Darkness.
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She called out to her parents, asking if they had forgotten
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something, her voice trembling. But there was no answer, only
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the hollow echo of her own words.
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Then footsteps came, measured and heavy, descending the
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stairs. The young girl backed away,
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clutching the edge of the sofa, calling out again to see if it
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was her parents. The living room door swung open
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with a sudden force. A cold rush of air swept in,
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carrying with it the unmistakable presence of someone
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or something unseen. And then it was upon her.
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Invisible hands shoved her backwards.
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She gasped, stumbling to the floor, but it didn't stop there.
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Something pressed against her chest, heavier, stronger, until
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she couldn't breathe. Her body convulsed, as if this
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something was trying to force its way into her.
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Terror swallowed her. She felt her limbs go weak, her
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mind pulled into a darkness it was not her own.
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Whispers clawed up the edges of her thoughts, hungry, desperate,
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and human. For a heartbeat, she wasn't
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herself. She was them.
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And then, silence. Marissa collapsed onto the
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floor, trembling, covered in sweat, and the house loomed
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above her, silent once more, as though satisfied.
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When Candace and Dennis returned, they found their
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daughter sprawled on the floor. Candace dropped to her knees,
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scooping Marissa into her arms, asking baby, what happened,
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what's wrong? Marissa's eyes darted around,
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wild and glassy. Her voice was hoarse.
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Someone came in and pushed me. She broke into sobs, clinging to
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her mother. Dennis's face drained of color.
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He had doubted, rationalized, resisted in every suggestion
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that something unnatural plagued their home.
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But this was different. His daughter's trembling, the
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sheer panic in her voice. He could not be dismissed.
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That night, the family huddled together in terror, with every
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light in the house blazing. Candace sat upright with a knife
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in her lap, too afraid to close her eyes.
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Marissa lay against her, shivering, whispering again and
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again that something had been inside her.
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By morning, she seemed eerily calm.
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She insisted that she felt fine, brushing off her mother's word.
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Questions, she said. I I don't want to worry or think
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about it anymore. Seeming detached, but Candace
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knew better. Something had touched her
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daughter, and this was something that could not be undone.
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The attack on Marissa left no more room for denial for Dennis.
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Once the firm skeptic, he could not shake the image of his
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daughter trembling on the floor, insisting that something had
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entered her, a foreign entity, something not of this world.
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Candace's fear had now become his own.
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The house was not simply strange, it was dangerous.
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Candace reached out to a friend, Bob Patton, an American
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journalist in Taipei with connections deep into Taiwan's
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spiritual circles. If anyone could point them to
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help, it was Bob. And he did.
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He told Candace of a respected Taoist priest, a man experienced
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in dealing with restless spirits, a man he himself had
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interviewed years before. When the priest arrived at the
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Bishop home, he carried himself with quiet authority.
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He was elderly, robed simply, with eyes that seem to Pierce
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through stone. From the moment he crossed the
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threshold, his demeanor darkened.
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He moved slowly through each room, pausing as if listening to
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something that the others could not hear.
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Finally, he gathered the family, and his words came measured,
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deliberate. This house, he said through
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Bob's translation, has very dangerous Feng shui.
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No Chinese architect would design it this way unless he
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wished to curse the inhabitants. Dennis frowned, still unused to
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the concept. He asked.
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What do you mean? The priest gestured towards the
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open windows, the dripping walls, the unnatural damp that
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seemed to ooze from every corner.
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The mountains, water and wind bring energy, but this house
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does not flow with it. It traps it, it feeds yen the
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negative energy, it strengthens the dead.
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Candace shuddered, remembering the priest's choice words.
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It's been designed to kill. Then came the most chilling
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revelation. The priest closed his eyes,
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breathing deeply. When he spoke again, his voice
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was heavier. There are two spirits here, and
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they're hungry. A man and a woman.
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Candace gasped. Her mind leapt to the apparition
33:46
Thomas had seen in the upstairs window.
33:50
She turned to their driver, who had lived in the valley his
33:54
entire life. Do you know what was here before
33:57
this house was built? She asked.
34:00
A Chan hesitated. His face tightened as though
34:05
even Speaking of it was dangerous.
34:09
At last, he said quietly, Pig farm.
34:13
It burned, and the farmer and his wife were trapped.
34:18
They died in the fire. The words clung heavy in the
34:23
air. Candace's heart sank.
34:28
The flickering lights, the voices calling names, the woman
34:33
at the window, all of it pointed to those lost souls.
34:38
They had not moved on. They had remained hungry, angry,
34:44
seemingly tethered to the land where they had perished.
34:49
The priest's face was grim. Hungry ghosts, he said.
34:54
They do not have what they need in the afterlife, food, money or
35:00
offerings, so they take energy from the living.
35:05
They feed off of fear, particularly from your daughter.
35:11
Marissa's face was pale with tears burning in her eyes.
35:15
The family drew closer together, with fear thick between all of
35:20
them. The priest rose.
35:24
He said I'll help you, but you must understand what is bound
35:29
here is strong. I will need some time to
35:32
prepare, and even if I succeed, it will not last.
35:37
And if you remain, they will return.
35:41
This warning was clear. The house was not a home.
35:45
It was a trap built on ashes, feeding the dead.
35:51
For the bishops, the nightmare had finally been given a name.
35:56
The night of the ritual arrived, heavy with anticipation.
36:00
The bishops had spent the day in uneasy silence, waiting.
36:05
Marissa had been sent to stay with neighbors.
36:08
The priest would not risk her presence.
36:11
The hungry ghosts had already singled her out once.
36:15
If they were provoked again, she might not survive.
36:20
Inside the mansion, the air felt charged, as though the house
36:25
itself knew what was coming. The Taoist priest returned to
36:29
dusk robed, simply carrying a bundle of tools, incense sticks,
36:37
Joss paper folded into stacks of money, a basket of fruit.
36:42
He instructed Dennis to open every door and window in the
36:46
house. The spirits must have a way out,
36:50
he said. As the last window was
36:53
unlatched, a strange wind moved through the house, though the
36:58
air outside was still. Curtains billowed, and Candace
37:03
clutched Stacy's hand. The priest lit incense, smoke
37:09
curling upward into thin, wide trails.
37:13
He began to chant, his voice low and rhythmic, filling the halls
37:20
with words the family could not understand.
37:23
Yet they felt their meaning deep in their bones.
37:27
Almost immediately, the house seemed to react.
37:32
A pressure settled on the family, heavy and suffocating,
37:38
Candace later recalled. It was a force that shook our
37:42
clothes and our hair. Everything was moving and it
37:47
became hard to breathe. Lights flickered violently.
37:52
Upstairs, a door slammed shut with a deafening crack.
37:56
The air was alive with unseen motion, as though invisible
38:00
figures were rushing past and raged by the intrusion.
38:06
Despite this, the priest did not falter.
38:09
He raised his voice, commanding, demanding, calling upon heavenly
38:16
forces to guide the spirits to peace.
38:20
Then he turned to Stacy and his hands was the basket of
38:24
offerings, Oranges, rice, bundles of paper money, all
38:31
burning slowly with incense smoke.
38:35
You, he said firmly. You must take this to the back,
38:41
to the graves. Terror gripped her.
38:45
Her legs trembled. She didn't want to go.
38:50
The priest's eyes locked on hers, and he told her, You must
38:57
be brave. They will follow you, but they
39:00
must be fed. Her mother's hand squeezed hers.
39:06
Her father's nod was solemn. With a SOB, Stacy lifted the
39:12
basket. The smoke curled into her face,
39:16
stinging her eyes. She then stepped into the night.
39:22
The backyard was darker than she had ever seen it.
39:26
The trees loomed beyond the walls, and every step felt
39:31
watched. She carried the basket toward
39:34
the patch of earth the priest had identified, the place where
39:39
the farmer and his wife had died.
39:43
Her arms ached, her skin prickled as though someone
39:48
walked just behind her. She fought the urge to run.
39:54
At the edge of the yard, she set the basket down and whispered
39:58
through her tears. Take this please.
40:03
And leave us alone. For a moment, the air stilled,
40:08
and then, as if an answer, the night swallowed the offering.
40:15
Inside, the priest moved room to room, sprinkling holy water,
40:21
chanting at each corner, and each time he entered the lights
40:26
would die slowly, flickering back on only as he finished his
40:32
incantations. Candace and Dennis followed,
40:36
their hearts pounding. They could feel it, the shift,
40:42
the weakening of the presence that had plagued them.
40:46
The chanting rose to a crescendo, smoke thick in the
40:51
halls as a final prayer echoed through the house, and then
40:57
silence. The wind ceased, the walls no
41:02
longer seemed to hum, and for the first time in months since
41:08
they had arrived, the house felt still.
41:13
Before leaving, the priest produced a Talisman, a mirror
41:18
etched with the symbols of the AI Ching.
41:22
He fixed it above the door, firmly patting it into place.
41:28
This will keep harmony here. He said, but only for a short
41:32
time. His eyes were grave.
41:36
The hungry ghosts are appeased, but only for two, maybe 3
41:41
months, and after that they will return.
41:46
You must leave this house or a great tragedy will come.
41:52
The warning settled deep into their hearts.
41:55
The house was calm now. The danger, however, was far
42:00
from gone. The house stood unnaturally
42:03
quiet in the aftermath of the ritual.
42:07
For the first time in months, the oppressive weight had
42:10
lifted. The walls no longer groaned, the
42:14
air the longer pressed down on their lungs.
42:18
Candace wept with relief. Dennis, exhausted, finally
42:24
allowed himself to believe that what had tormented his family
42:28
was real. He had fought against his
42:32
beliefs, against fear, clinging to reason and responsibility.
42:38
But now there was no argument left.
42:41
He had seen too much. He knew the priest was right.
42:47
In the days that followed, the mansion remained eerily still.
42:52
Nights passed without footsteps, without whispers.
42:56
Stacy slept without hearing her name being called.
43:00
Candace no longer felt eyes burning into her back, and even
43:05
Marissa, who had returned from the neighbors, seemed lighter,
43:10
free of the strange detachment that had followed her from the
43:14
attack. The Bog Way mirror gleamed above
43:17
the front door, a silent Sentinel.
43:22
The family lived in its shadow, aware that the peace was only
43:26
borrowed time. Candace began to plan.
43:31
She marked the months carefully, watching the calendar as though
43:35
it were a countdown to doom. Stacy would finish her schooling
43:39
by June, and by then they would be gone.
43:44
Dennis made quiet inquiries about transfers, careful not to
43:48
draw suspicion from his superiors.
43:51
Every decision was guided by the priest's warning before the
43:55
hungry ghosts would return. It was not an easy choice.
44:01
Dennis's career had brought them here, had promised them
44:04
prosperity, But what was a promotion compared to the safety
44:09
of his family? Stacy finished her final term of
44:13
school that June, and her relief mirrored her mother's.
44:18
Dennis arranged their departure with quiet urgency.
44:22
When the time came, the family packed their belongings into
44:26
crates, and the rooms were emptied one by one.
44:32
On their last morning in the house, the air was unnervingly
44:36
still. The jungle outside shimmered in
44:39
the heat, and for once, no storm clouds gathered on the horizon.
44:46
Candace stood at the front door, staring at the Bog Way mirror
44:50
fixed above it. The Talisman glinted faintly in
44:54
the light. For months it had kept the house
44:57
calm, but she knew its power would soon wane.
45:02
As she turned to leave, she glanced up at the 2nd floor
45:06
window, the same place Thomas had once seen a figure standing,
45:12
and for the briefest moment, she thought she saw something.
45:17
The outline of a woman, her face hidden in the shadows.
45:22
But a blink later, the window was empty.
45:28
Candace shivered. She would not look back again.
45:33
The bishops left Taiwan behind, returning to the United States
45:38
with more than just suitcases. They carried with them the
45:41
memory of the mansion, the unseen blows, the whispers in
45:47
the darkness. In the night, Marissa collapsed
45:51
on the floor, seemingly invaded by something malicious.
45:57
In interviews years later, Candace admitted that the
46:02
experience had shattered the boundaries of her world.
46:05
I had learned that there are powers that we don't understand,
46:09
she said. Energies, spirits, things that
46:14
can touch our lives in ways that you can't imagine unless it
46:18
happens to you. The family never returned to
46:23
that valley. They never sought the mansion
46:26
again. Whether the house still stands,
46:30
whether others live there unaware, no one can say.
46:36
But in Taiwan or the Hungry Ghost Festival still burns
46:41
bright each summer, the belief endures.
46:45
The dead remain among us, if not given rest.
46:51
And in the shadow of the Yang Ming mountain, where fire once
46:55
consumed a farmer and his wife, where a foreign family came
47:00
seeking a home and only found terror, the hungry ghosts still
47:06
linger, waiting for the living to feed them.
47:15
So it took some digging, but I was able to figure out what the
47:18
Bishops are up to these days. I haven't seen or come across
47:23
any updates on them from other creators, so I decided to try
47:27
and find out for myself. And to my surprise, I did indeed
47:32
discover the details. The Bishops case was made famous
47:36
by the TV show A Haunting, which is one of my all time
47:39
favourites. Their episode was amply titled
47:43
Hungry Ghosts. My version is essentially a
47:46
retelling of their harrowing case with additional details
47:50
that I could find. With that being said, what are
47:53
the Bishops up to these days? Well, I'm going to tell you, but
47:58
I will omit some details as to respect their privacy.
48:02
It seems like Dennis and Candace are no longer married.
48:07
I'm not sure what happened to Candace, but I hope wherever she
48:10
is that she's doing well. Dennis has since remarried and
48:16
is a COO of a major global company, albeit I'm not sure if
48:20
it's the same company that he worked for during the family's
48:23
experiences. But he continues to work abroad
48:27
in Asia and other parts of the world, and him and his wife seem
48:31
to have adopted a son. Everyone, from what I can tell,
48:35
has moved on and returned to a sense of normalcy and seems to
48:39
be happy and prosperous. I truly hope that is the case.
48:43
And I don't know about you, but I love a happy ending with me
48:47
providing those details. Again, please respect the
48:51
Bishop's privacy and that goes for anyone whose cases I've
48:55
covered here. Be kind and be respectful and
48:59
please don't bother anybody. Thank you guys so much for
49:03
watching this new episode. I took a bit of a different
49:06
writing approach with this one, but I hope that you still liked
49:10
it. And if you did, please leave the
49:13
episode a like. Let me know your thoughts down
49:16
below in the comments and subscribe if you're new here.
49:20
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49:23
You can also watch all my content ad free by becoming a
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become a patron of visiting patreon.com/mystery Archives.
49:36
If you'd like to check out my books, which each contain 10
49:39
real and haunting paranormal cases, including my own story,
49:44
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you can buy them on Amazon. Other than that guys, I truly
49:52
appreciate you all and your continued support to allow me to
49:56
do what I do. I, as always, could not be more
49:59
proud of how amazing this community has become and
50:02
continues to be. I hope you all are doing well
50:06
mentally, physically, and spiritually and I'll see you
50:11
soon with another brand new episode.
50:14
This has been Cody here at Mystery Archives.
50:17
Remember to stay safe out there from hungry ghosts and other
50:21
spectres that may haunt the night, and take care.
50:26
I'll see you next time.