We Found the 10 Scariest Ghost-Hunting Spots in Tennessee

Ready to chase chills across Tennessee? From opulent hotels to creaking Victorian mansions and shadowy caves, these spots carry whispered legends, unexplained footsteps, and the kind of stories you will tell with the lights on. Each stop blends real history with goosebump-worthy encounters, inviting you to test your nerves and your curiosity.

Grab a flashlight, keep your voice low, and let’s see what answers back from the dark.

1. Gaylord Opryland Hotel (Nashville)

Under the glass atriums and lush gardens, quiet moments can feel strangely busy. Guests whisper about cold pockets of air and the subtle sway of that chandelier, like someone just brushed past. Security talks in hushed tones about footsteps on empty mezzanines and a figure glimpsed near the Magnolia Lobby balcony.

If you love opulence mixed with unease, this is your playground. Stand still and listen for metal fixtures tinging or fabric rustling when no one is close. You might catch a reflection that lingers longer than it should, or a shadow peeling away from a column.

Stay respectful, keep your voice down, and watch the chandelier. If it rattles, you are not alone.

2. Thomas House Hotel (Red Boiling Springs)

This 1890 retreat feels like it breathes on its own. Beds have shifted under sleeping guests, and doors close with intent, not drafts. Disembodied voices drift through the corridors, sometimes playful, sometimes clipped, like impatient hosts instructing late arrivals.

You might feel a nudge when you are certain no one is there. Dark figures materialize near stairwells, absorbing the light for a heartbeat. Bring a recorder and ask simple questions, then play it back for whispers you did not hear.

The staff respects the house and asks you to do the same. Keep your expectations open and your nerves steady. Here, activity is not rare.

It is routine.

3. Bijou Theatre (Knoxville)

Old theaters collect stories like dust in their curtains. Here, a child’s laughter skims the aisles, light as a skipping stone. Ushers swear the giggles belong to Little Mary, whose presence comes with tiny footsteps and a sense of being watched from knee height.

Stand mid-orchestra and look toward the balcony. Sometimes a seat folds on its own, or a soft patter crosses the carpet behind you. Try a toy trigger or softly hum a lullaby to invite a response without pressure.

Do not crowd the stage or block exits. Respect the living crew and the lingering cast. If a giggle answers your whisper, just smile and say thank you.

4. Orpheum Theatre (Memphis)

Beauty can be a beacon, and this theater glows even when the seats are empty. The spirit called Mary favors the aisles and loves to be heard before seen: soft footsteps, quick laughter, a playful hush. Ushers nod knowingly when lights flicker just as a show would have started.

Stand near the orchestra pit and speak gently, like addressing a friend. Some visitors report small tugs on clothing, or a seat lowering as if a child sat down. Cameras catch orbs near the aisle lamps, drifting like fireflies.

Mind your manners in this glamorous haunt. If you feel a presence at your elbow, resist spinning around. Offer a hello, then wait.

5. Historic Rugby (Rugby)

An entire town whispers here. Lantern light guides you past clapboard houses where curtains can twitch without hands, and down paths that seem to remember every footfall. Stories rise from the cemetery, names half-vanished on stone, breaths caught between centuries.

Join a guided tour and listen as guides tie history to hauntings without theatrics. Windows flash with movement, and photographs reveal faces where none stood. The hush is not empty.

It is watchful.

Dress warm, bring a spare battery, and keep conversation soft. You will feel the woods draw close and the lanes stretch longer than they look. When the lantern dims, the past steps nearer.

6. Oaklands Historic Mansion (Murfreesboro)

History weighs heavy in these rooms, especially after dark. Guides speak of Civil War echoes and names that still answer roll call. Visitors feel temperature drops near display cases, and upstairs windows have hosted silhouettes that do not match the group.

Move slowly through the halls and listen for the scrape of a chair or fabric brushing railings. Cameras catch streaks of light, and EVP sessions sometimes return clipped replies, formal yet intimate. It feels like a household persisting in routine.

Stay respectful of artifacts and keep hands off ropes. If you sense you are intruding, step back. The politest approach often gets the clearest response.

7. Lotz House (Franklin)

The air here still vibrates with the Battle of Franklin. Floorboards feel alert, as if bracing for hurried boots that never arrive. Guests report objects shifting subtly and whispers pooling in corners, like hushed strategy sessions repeating on a loop.

Stand near the staircase and you might hear a sigh pressed through teeth. Photo bursts occasionally catch a figure turning away, never quite clear. Try a gentle question about home or family, not the battle, and listen for softer answers.

Respect the trauma etched into these walls. Keep your pace unhurried and your voice low. Leave an offering of silence, and you may receive one back.

8. Cragfont State Historic Site (Castalian Springs)

This frontier mansion stands stoic, but the quiet deceives. Teams document orbs that behave with purpose, not dust, and knocks that answer in rhythm. On some nights, footsteps cross the grand hall while the porch remains empty.

Bring controlled experiments and patience. Ask for two taps and wait for the reply, then request three. Cameras should cover angles behind you, because movement loves the blind spot.

The air can prickle like static before anything happens.

Treat the site as a living museum. Do not crowd artifacts or wander off paths. When the stillness deepens and the first knock returns, keep your questions simple and your gratitude clear.

9. Mallory-Neely House (Memphis)

Victorian finery can feel like theater, but the performances here are uninvited. Visitors hear a woman crying softly, then nothing, like a curtain drop. A figure appears on the staircase for a heartbeat, and some swear a disembodied hand rests on the banister, elegant and impossible.

Stand at the landing and take burst photos down and up. Listen for breath that is not yours and watch the dust for sudden stillness. Emotions rise quickly, so ground yourself with slow inhales.

Mind the docents, follow every rule, and avoid provoking language. If sadness settles over you, acknowledge it kindly. Sometimes the kindest response is simply to step back.

10. Bell Witch Cave (Adams)

The legend here bites harder than most. In the cool throat of the cave, whispers ride the drip of water and old stories feel dangerously fresh. Equipment misbehaves, batteries drain fast, and bravado turns to careful steps.

Keep your group small and your guide close. Ask respectful questions and avoid taunting, because this spirit’s reputation for retaliation is not folklore alone. Some hear distinct responses echo from dark pockets, as if the rock itself answers.

Outside, the farmland looks peaceful, which makes the contrast sharper. Leave no trash, speak softly, and exit when told. The cave has its own rules, and you will feel them.