🩸 8. The Myrtles Plantation (Louisiana)

“Where the moss weeps, the dead speak.”

Deep in the shadowed heart of St. Francisville, Louisiana, where ancient cypress trees drip with moss and the air is thick with secrets, sits a house that has earned its reputation as one of the most haunted homes in America—The Myrtles Plantation.

Built in 1796, the Myrtles is not just old—it is wounded. Local legend whispers that the house was built atop an old Native American burial ground, a fact many claim is the root of its never-ending hauntings. The soil here is heavy, not just with humidity, but with sorrow, betrayal, and blood. Over the centuries, the estate has been the site of multiple untimely deaths, brutal murders, and unexplained tragedies. At least 12 restless spirits are said to wander its halls, though some believe the true number is far higher.

But among all the ghosts that stalk the Myrtles, one stands apart in legend and fear: Chloe.

Chloe was a young enslaved woman owned by Judge Clark Woodruff, one of the plantation's original residents. The story, as told in hushed voices and cold shudders, is chilling. It is said that Chloe was forced into a relationship with the judge—an arrangement neither consensual nor kind. Afraid of being cast out or punished, she began eavesdropping on his private affairs. When caught, her ear was sliced off as punishment. From that day forward, Chloe wore a green veil to hide her mutilation.

But Chloe’s revenge was slow and fatal.

Seeking retribution—or possibly redemption—she baked a cake laced with oleander, a deadly poison. Her targets were the judge’s wife and children. Whether she intended to kill or merely sicken them is debated, but the outcome is not: three innocent lives were lost.

Once her crime was discovered, Chloe was not afforded a trial. She was dragged from her quarters by fellow slaves, hanged from a tree on the property, and left to die. Some say she was thrown into the Mississippi River. Others claim her body was buried somewhere beneath the plantation, never given peace.

But Chloe did not stay buried.

Visitors to the Myrtles have reported seeing a figure in a green turban or veil, sometimes peering from behind doors, sometimes standing silently at the foot of their beds. Photographs have captured her translucent form, lingering near the infamous plantation mirror where she’s said to be trapped. That mirror, framed in dark wood and blackened by age, is believed to contain the souls of Sara Woodruff and her children—never properly buried due to the chaos of their deaths, their spirits trapped in the glass.

Guests speak of phantom children laughing, footsteps in empty halls, icy touches, and whispered names in the dead of night. One woman awoke to find the imprint of a child’s hand on her face—though no children were staying in the house.

And it's not just the visitors. Staff, seasoned from years of working in the mansion, refuse to enter certain rooms alone. Room 8, known as The Voodoo Room, is believed to be a focal point of energy—where the spirits gather. Furniture shifts in the night, shutters slam without wind, and candles flicker out when no breath stirs the air.

Whether Chloe’s spirit remains out of guilt or anger, one thing is clear: she is not at rest, and neither are the others. The Myrtles is more than a haunted house—it is a living wound, a scar in the earth that refuses to heal.

To stay overnight is to gamble with your sanity.
To visit during the witching hour is to invite something to follow you home.
And if you catch a glimpse of a veiled woman watching from the shadows—don’t run.
She’s already inside.