In Guam, the jungle never forgets, and neither does the sea. The taotaomona — the old spirits — still move through the banyan groves, brushing past unseen, but never unnoticed. Along the cliffs at Two Lovers Point, sorrow clings thick to the air, and the old Spanish forts and stone churches groan quietly under the weight of promises broken centuries ago.

The latte stones stand heavy and still, marking places where the earth hums with the memory of the people who shaped it long before any maps named this place. Even the ocean caves breathe slow and deep, as if something ancient stirs just beyond reach.

Here, they say “Where America’s Day Begins” — but if you listen closely, you’ll realize: it’s not the living who greet the dawn first.

Ghost Stories and Scary American Folklore from Across the United States