The World's Most Haunted Casino Resorts

Picture the scene: you’re at a poker table inside the Cal Neva Lodge & Casino. The neon glow paints the room in shifting colours, the air hums with possibility. Roulette wheels spin and slot machines chime, combining to form that unmistakable heartbeat every great casino covets.

The atmosphere carries whispers of legends. Once, Frank Sinatra himself might have occupied the next table, and his presence still lingers in the air. Suddenly, a chill brushes your spine as his voice rises, My Way drifting through the floorboards like a ghostly echo. No jukebox plays. The other gamblers falter, eyes wide, as the spectral serenade hangs in the room, eerie and unexplained.

Casinos may dazzle with glamour, but behind the flashing lights and dreams of hefty jackpots lies a darker undercurrent. With fortunes won and lost in a single night, these halls of chance become fertile ground for despair, obsession, and tragedy, the very fuel of the paranormal. High rollers sometimes leave more than money behind; some say their spirits remain, tethered to the tables where fate turned.

If you're drawn to these eerie gaming halls but want to keep your thrills on the safer side, why not explore some of the best social casinos where you can play for fun, no haunted stairwells required?

Benny 'The Bonus' Romano That's Classified

“Casinos? They’re pressure cookers for the soul. Greed, glory, heartbreak, all mixed in with a splash of top-shelf champagne. These joints are built to mess with your senses, keep ya guessing the hour while you're busy chasin’ lady luck. I seen it all, the high rollers who blew it all by sunrise, the showgirls who lit up the stage, the big shots who thought they owned the joint. Their ghosts don’t leave easy. You feel ’em in the walls, in the velvet, in the spin of the damn roulette wheel. That’s the house, kid. She remembers.”

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From Las Vegas to Venice, casinos are enticing stages for ghost stories. This guide will lead you through 13 haunted land based casinos: from Sinatra’s spectral voice at the Cal Neva to shadowy figures seen at the Venetian Macao. Together with my friend and haunted-casinos expert, Benny 'The Bonus' Romano, I'll take you across Europe’s historic gaming houses and America’s celebrated and storied neon oases. You’ll encounter tales of phantom gamblers, spectral dealers, and restless souls. Step inside, where every shuffle of cards and spin of the wheel may summon more than luck.

So, let’s have a closer look at 13 haunted casinos around the world; a fitting number, I am sure you will agree, steeped in superstition and long associated with misfortune (at least in some regions). From fire-scarred hotels on the Las Vegas Strip to opulent European salons and Asian gaming palaces, each carries its own chilling tale.

The site opened in 1973 as the MGM Grand Hotel and Casino. It was later rebranded as Bally’s before finally becoming the Horseshoe in 2023. While the building has seen decades of reinvention, its reputation for being haunted stems from a single, devastating event that forever marked the property.

In November 1980, disaster struck when a fire tore through the MGM Grand. The blaze claimed the lives of 87 people and injured hundreds more, making it one of the deadliest hotel fires in American history. Although the structure was later rebuilt and refurbished, many believe the catastrophe left an imprint too deep to erase, and that some of the victims still wander the corridors today.

Apparitions in the Stairwells

Among the most frequently reported paranormal encounters are those in the hotel’s stairwells. These narrow escape routes were scenes of desperation during the fire, with guests and staff struggling to flee the choking smoke. Witnesses describe shadowy figures lingering on the landings, their forms wavering like heat haze. Many even report them to be dressed in distinctly late-1970s attire such as bell-bottom trousers, polyester suits, or dated nightwear, their faces fixed in expressions of terror.

On approach, these apparitions often dissolve into nothing, leaving behind only the faint odour of smoke and an unsettling silence. Security staff, often the primary reporters of the paranormal, have recorded unexplained footsteps echoing through the stairwells during the small hours, even when the floors are empty. Paranormal investigators who have taken it upon themselves to check it out claim that these lost souls are trapped in a loop, compelled to relive their final, frantic moments of escape.

Haunted Rooms on the Upper Floors

The upper levels, particularly the 21st to 26th floors, are regarded as the most unnerving part of the building. Guests have repeatedly reported waking in the night to the acrid smell of smoke, even though no alarms sound. Others have spoken of hearing muffled screams or cries for help, as though the walls themselves replay the horror of the fire.

Hotel staff have their own chilling accounts. Housekeepers occasionally discover rooms turned upside down. They find beds unmade, drawers pulled open, despite no record of recent occupancy. One night auditor recalled checking in a guest to room 2523, only for them to return minutes later, visibly shaken. The guest insisted they had seen a woman in a nightdress pleading for help before vanishing into thin air.

The Fire’s Lingering Legacy

Though decades of renovations have modernised the Horseshoe, they have not banished its darker history. The tragic fire of 1980 remains etched into the fabric of the building, and for many, the spirits of those lost still walk its halls. For thrill-seekers and believers, staying here offers more than a roll of the dice. It is a chance to glimpse the paranormal. The Horseshoe stands as a reminder that in Las Vegas, where fortunes are made and lost overnight, the past sometimes refuses to stay buried.

Siegel himself was gunned down in Beverly Hills only months after the casino’s launch. Ever since, rumours say his restless spirit returned to oversee the empire he built but never got to enjoy.

Bugsy Siegel’s Presidential Suite

The Flamingo’s Presidential Suite is said to be Siegel’s favourite haunt. Guests and staff have reported seeing a well-dressed man in period attire reflected in mirrors, or pacing near the balcony. Cold spots sweep through the suite without warning, and some visitors describe a strong sense of being watched.

The Garden and Pool Area

Outdoors, near the hotel’s rose garden and pool, some guests have smelled cigarette smoke drifting in the air, even when no one nearby is smoking. Siegel was a heavy smoker, and the association lingers. A handful of reports describe fleeting glimpses of his ghost strolling the grounds, as though still checking in on his beloved property.

Mobster’s Legacy

It isn’t only Bugsy who supposedly lingers. Dealers and staff occasionally speak of shadowy figures on the casino floor late at night, thought to be mob associates from Vegas’s wild early days. Whether these are true hauntings or just colourful retellings of the Strip’s bloody history, the Flamingo has cemented itself as one of Las Vegas’s most haunted hotspots.

A Living Relic

Today, the Flamingo remains a bustling resort, modernized yet still retaining touches of its vintage aura. For most visitors, it’s a nostalgic slice of Vegas history. For others, it’s a place where Bugsy Siegel still walks, an eternal high roller keeping watch over the casino he never got to see thrive.

Accidents, suicides, and chilling reports of paranormal encounters have led many to call Luxor the most cursed hotel in Las Vegas.

The Pyramid Curse

Almost from the beginning, Luxor's bold design was said to invite bad luck. Construction accidents and early mishaps fed whispers that the pyramid shape had disturbed spiritual forces. Some paranormal enthusiasts claim pyramids act as amplifiers for energy, creating portals or thinning the veil between dimensions. For believers, the Luxor’s towering form is less a casino than a supernatural magnet.

Room 30018

Among the hotel’s 4,400 rooms, one in particular has earned notoriety. Room 30018 is linked to multiple suicides, and countless guests have reported overwhelming dread upon entering. Accounts describe muffled crying when the room is empty and shapes shifting in the mirror just out of sight. The most reported occurrence, though, is an unexplained loud clanging metal sound every morning at 8.30am on the dot. Some visitors insist they were unable to spend the night, abandoning the room after a few restless hours. Staff do not officially confirm the room’s reputation, but it remains a staple of Luxor ghost lore.

The Blonde Ghost

One of the most unnerving stories involves a pale-haired woman who appears unexpectedly in guest rooms. Witnesses describe waking to find her seated at the edge of the bed, or leaning over them with icy hands pressed to their chest or throat. These encounters end as suddenly as they begin, the figure dissolving into the air and leaving shaken guests gasping for breath.

The Haunted Elevators

The elevators that glide diagonally up the pyramid’s sides, Luxor’s distinctive inclinators, are a frequent stage for ghostly tales. Riders speak of lights flickering, doors opening onto empty shafts, or shadowy figures glimpsed inside that vanish an instant later.

Atrium Shadows

Luxor's cavernous central atrium is the tallest in the world. Sadly, it has also been the site of several suicides, as guests have leapt from the upper balconies. Visitors and staff alike report cold winds and an eerie presence lingering near these spots, as though echoes of tragedy remain suspended in the air.

A Pyramid of Paradoxes

Today, the Luxor remains a popular resort, its light beam an international icon. Yet alongside the tourists and poker tables, stories of curses, ghosts, and restless spirits continue to circulate. For some, it’s an unlucky coincidence; for others, it’s proof that the pyramid doesn’t just house guests, it also keeps company with the dead.

First opened in 1968 beneath its vast pink dome, the resort quickly became famous for its circus acts, carnival games, and playful atmosphere. For decades it has welcomed an eclectic mix of guests, carving out a unique place in the neon-soaked landscape of Las Vegas. But behind the flashing lights and clowns, ghost stories have flourished, with eerie reports that suggest spirits of the past may still roam its corridors. The most notorious tales centre on the chilling mysteries of Room 123 and the strange sounds that echo across the casino floor long after midnight.

It also has a giant neon clown outside and actual clowns inside, and everyone knows clowns are scary.

Room 123: “HELP ME” in the Mirror & Child’s Cries

Room 123 has become the focus of one of Circus Circus’s most unsettling legends. Guests claim to awaken and find the words “HELP ME” scrawled across the bathroom mirror, dripping as though freshly traced by an unseen hand in the condensation. The phenomenon is often accompanied by the faint cries of a child, a fragile, heart-wrenching sound that unsettles even the most sceptical of visitors.

Some accounts describe the cries intensifying as night deepens, joined by the soft patter of small feet moving across the carpet. Yet no child is ever seen. According to local lore, the haunting stems from the tragic death of a young guest during the hotel’s early years, their spirit forever trapped in a cycle of fear and despair. Housekeepers refuse to enter the room alone, and though no official record confirms the tragedy, the legend of Room 123 persists, whispered by staff and thrill-seeking visitors alike.

Dealers Hearing Laughter on an Empty Floor

The hauntings extend beyond guest rooms to the casino floor itself. Dealers working the late shifts often speak of bursts of childish laughter echoing across deserted gaming areas once the crowds have thinned. The sound is described as both playful and unnerving, a ghostly echo of the circus atmosphere the resort was built upon.

Security cameras have occasionally captured fleeting shadows darting between tables, though checks reveal no intruders. While some staff believe the laughter belongs to the spirits of children once entertained by the circus acts, others point to more sinister origins. A spectral reminder of tragedies linked to the resort’s history.

The phenomenon has become so unsettling that some employees now avoid the gaming floor’s quietest corners after midnight, unwilling to face the disembodied giggles that seem to rise from nowhere.

The Haunting Legacy

Circus Circus endures as one of Las Vegas’s most distinctive resorts, blending carnival cheer with an undercurrent of the uncanny. For some, its haunted reputation enhances the intrigue, offering guests a brush with the supernatural alongside the entertainment. Whether it is the desperate plea etched on a mirror in Room 123 or the spectral giggles drifting across the empty floor, Circus Circus reminds us that not all laughter fades when the lights go down. In this casino, the circus never truly ends, even in the dead of night.

Originally opened as the Hotel Apache in 1932 and bought by the legendary gambler Benny Binion in 1951, the property quickly became an institution. It's where the incredible true story of Suitcase Man happened, and other tales of gambling folklore too. It's also the spiritual home of the World Series of Poker (WSOP).

However, other kinds of spirits pepper its legend as well, and it claims to be the most haunted place in Las Vegas.

With good reason too. Over the decades, guests and staff alike have reported strange phenomena across its rooms, old count rooms, and even its lifts. In fact, the stories tend to even make it into the local press when fresh spooky stuff happens, which is surprisingly often. Today, Binion’s draws not only gamblers but also ghost hunters, eager to test their luck against whatever lingers within its storied walls.

Room 400: Phones Dial Themselves

Among the most unnerving stories is that of Room 400, where telephones are said to ring and dial themselves in the dead of night. Guests recount waking to the mechanical click of a rotary dial or the electronic beeping of modern keypads, only to discover the receiver hanging loose with no one on the line. Some have answered these phantom calls, hearing nothing but static laced with faint, indecipherable whispers.

Others claim the phone rings incessantly, always without caller ID, until the sound becomes unbearable. Staff attribute this to the restless spirit of a former guest or employee, perhaps tied to the hotel’s turbulent past. The room’s notoriety has grown so strong that many travellers now refuse to stay there, leaving it to sit in uneasy silence, waiting for its next caller.

The Old Count Room: Shadows and Slamming Doors

The Old Count Room, once the heart of Binion’s financial operations, carries its own legacy of unease. Here, employees working late shifts have reported fleeting shadowy figures slipping across the room, their outlines vague but distinctly human. These sightings are often accompanied by the sudden slamming of doors, loud enough to reverberate through the entire floor, though no culprit is ever found.

On occasion, security cameras have captured doors shutting of their own accord, unexplained by drafts or mechanical faults. Staff speak of a heavy, oppressive energy that settles over the room, as if unseen eyes are watching. Many believe these apparitions are the spirits of former cashiers or even mob associates, still bound to the money they once counted or perhaps stole.

Elevator Voices with No Passengers

Perhaps the most disturbing reports come from the lifts. Guests and staff stepping inside have heard muffled conversations, laughter, or cries for help, even though the cabins were empty. The voices typically cease the moment the doors open, leaving behind only silence.

One maintenance worker recounted hearing a man’s desperate pleas as the lift ascended, only to find no one inside when the doors slid open. Paranormal investigators suggest these voices may belong to patrons or employees caught in a spectral loop, condemned to repeat their final moments.

A Legacy of Luck and Spirits

With its rich history, notorious clientele, and spine-tingling encounters, Binion’s offers more than just a game of chance. From phones that call the living to shadows that guard forgotten fortunes, the property has earned its place as one of Las Vegas’s most haunted landmarks. For the brave, a stay at the Hotel Apache promises not only a brush with the city’s gambling legacy but perhaps with the otherworldly as well.

Established in 1926 and transformed into a playground for Hollywood’s elite by Frank Sinatra in the 1960s, Cal Neva is a storied resort which has long attracted the rich and the notorious. Its past, coloured by mob connections and celebrity scandal, has fuelled its reputation as a haunted hideaway nestled amidst the serenity of the Sierra Nevada.

Cal Neva is home to chilling tales, with Marilyn Monroe’s Suite and Sinatra’s tunnels singled out as epicentres of ghostly activity.

Marilyn Monroe’s Suite (Room 101)

Room 101, once occupied by Marilyn Monroe during her troubled visits in the early 1960s, has become steeped in spectral legend.

Guests speak of an eerie presence in the suite, often heralded by the faint scent of her signature perfume, Chanel No. 5, lingering in the air. Mirrors are said to mist over without cause, and some claim to glimpse the silhouette of a woman in a flowing gown, her reflection tinged with sorrow.

More unsettling still are accounts of soft sobbing or the whisper of silk rustling, as though Monroe’s spirit remains trapped, re-enacting her final days before her mysterious death in 1962. Staff have noted flickering lights and doors closing of their own accord, attributing the disturbances to the starlet’s legendary restless energy.

Sinatra’s Tunnels: Phantom Footsteps & Humming

Beneath the resort lies a network of tunnels built under Sinatra’s ownership, designed to ferry celebrities and entertainers away from the public gaze.

Today, these shadowy passageways are said to echo with phantom footsteps and the low hum of an unseen singer. Night staff report the steady tread of shoes across stone floors, followed by a baritone murmur that some insist resembles Sinatra’s crooning.

On occasion, security cameras have captured shadowy figures drifting through the tunnels, vanishing before they can be identified. Believers suggest these are the ghosts of Sinatra and his Rat Pack companions, still indulging in the clandestine glamour of their heyday. Others suspect the tunnels bear the imprint of less savoury mob characters, their presence marked by sudden drops in temperature and an oppressive chill.

Whatever the truth, these hidden corridors have become a spectral stage upon which the past continues to play.

A Legacy of Glamour and Ghosts

With its blend of lakeside elegance and haunted whispers, the Cal Neva Lodge & Casino offers far more than a retreat. It invites guests into a realm where Hollywood’s golden age lingers, refusing to fade.

Whether it is Marilyn’s mournful spirit in Room 101 or Sinatra’s echoing tunes in the tunnels, the resort endures as a testament to the enduring allure, and the spectral shadows, of its extraordinary history.

Built in 1912, the grand Beaux-Arts railway terminal once bustled with travellers, later serving as a military headquarters and even an internment site during wartime. Its layered past gives the building a weighty presence, where echoes of bygone eras linger in its stone walls. Since its transformation into a casino in 1996, Casino Regina has drawn crowds for its slot machines and card tables, yet it has also developed a reputation as one of Canada’s most haunted gaming halls. Reports of a ghostly conductor, rattling cell bars, and spectral footsteps in the tunnels suggest that the station’s history is far from silent.

The Ghostly Conductor with Lantern

The casino’s most famous phantom is the ghostly conductor, often glimpsed on the main floor. Witnesses describe a man in an old-fashioned railway uniform, complete with cap, whistle, and a lantern that glows with an unearthly flicker. He appears to pace the hall as if waiting for a train that will never come, fading into shadow when approached.

These encounters occur most often in the quiet hours after midnight, when the hum of the casino subsides. Staff link him to the building’s railway days, perhaps a worker still bound to his duties. Security cameras have reportedly caught fleeting light anomalies in the area, fuelling speculation that this ghostly conductor continues to haunt the grand concourse, a reminder of the station’s original purpose.

Holding Cells and Rattling Bars

The basement of Casino Regina contains remnants of its military chapter: holding cells once used for prisoners and internees. Here, staff and visitors speak of bars rattling violently, as though unseen hands are testing their confines. Some accounts add cold drafts, phantom chains clinking, and a heavy sense of being watched.

Former employees recall finding fresh scratches on the walls, despite the cells standing unused for decades. Many believe these disturbances are the imprints of soldiers or detainees who never left, their confinement echoing across time. Maintenance staff often refuse to enter the area alone, leaving the cells as one of the building’s most feared spaces.

Tunnels Alive with Footsteps

Beneath the casino stretches a network of tunnels once used for railway operations. Though no longer in service, they remain a focus of paranormal reports. Workers walking through late at night describe hearing the measured tread of boots or the shuffle of unseen crowds moving alongside them. The sounds cease abruptly when lights are switched on, leaving only oppressive silence.

Paranormal investigators exploring the tunnels have recorded faint whispers and footfalls, suggesting that these subterranean passages serve as pathways for the spirits of travellers and soldiers, forever journeying through the dark.

A Grand but Haunted Legacy

With its architectural splendour and storied past, Casino Regina is more than a gaming destination. It is a place where the city’s history seems to walk hand in hand with the present, in the conductor’s ghostly patrols, in the clatter of unseen prisoners, and in the phantom footsteps beneath the earth. For visitors, the casino offers not only a roll of the dice but also the chance to encounter the spectral legacies of its past.

Over the years it evolved with the times, before being reborn in 2012 as one of the capital’s largest casinos.

Its ornate architecture and century-long heritage make it a magnet for ghost stories, where the glamour of the past lingers as more than just memory. From the grand staircases to its shadowed balconies, the Hippodrome is said to harbour spirits, including the ethereal presence of Judy Garland and the apparitions once reported by long-time stage manager Rosalyn Wilder.

Judy Garland’s Ghost on the Staircases

Among the casino’s most famous phantoms is the beloved star Judy Garland, who performed at the Hippodrome during its theatrical heyday. Staff and visitors alike claim to have glimpsed her spectral figure gliding along the grand staircases, dressed in a flowing gown, her voice faintly humming Over the Rainbow. Witnesses describe a sudden drop in temperature and the lingering scent of vintage perfume as she appears, before dissolving into the carved banisters.

Some say the unmistakable sound of heels tapping against marble has echoed through the stairwell in the small hours, long after the building has emptied. Many believe Garland’s spirit returns to the stage she once adored, unable to relinquish the spotlight, transforming the staircases into a living tribute to her enduring legacy.

Rosalyn Wilder’s Backstage Apparitions

The Hippodrome’s long history as a theatre has also produced chilling backstage tales, many of which were recorded by Rosalyn Wilder, a respected stage manager who worked at the venue for decades. Wilder recounted witnessing shadowy figures drifting through the wings, dressed in Edwardian costumes as though preparing for a show that never begins. She often reported whispers, the rustle of fabric, and even the unmistakable sound of props being adjusted, only for the figures to vanish when lights were switched on.

Her journals describe one particularly vivid encounter: a man carefully straightening scenery in the darkened stage area, who disappeared before her eyes when she called out. Wilder believed these spirits belonged to performers from the theatre’s early years, their restless energy forever tied to the corridors and stages where they once lived for applause.

Balcony Shadows

The upper balconies are another hotspot for ghostly activity. Staff and late-night visitors have reported seeing silhouettes moving silently along the tiers, their outlines blurred but unmistakably human. These figures seem to watch an invisible performance below, lingering as if the curtain had never fallen.

On occasion, security cameras have captured fleeting movements, with some frames even showing figures in period dress seated in the rows, though the balcony itself remained empty. Many attribute these sightings to patrons from the early 20th century, perhaps victims of overcrowded shows, whose spirits never left their favourite seats.

Where Past and Present Collide

The Hippodrome Casino blends gaming glamour with theatrical ghosts, offering visitors more than just roulette wheels and poker tables. In its staircases, wings, and balconies, the past still performs, weaving itself into the present. For those who venture inside, the Hippodrome is not just a casino but a place where London’s entertainment history (and its restless spirits) continue to share the stage.

Today it is housed in the Ca’ Vendramin Calergi, a Renaissance palace overlooking the Grand Canal, whose gilded halls whisper with centuries of intrigue. This was once the playground of European aristocracy, where elegance mingled with excess.

However, behind its splendour lies a spookier reputation. The chandeliers still sparkle and the roulette wheels still spin, but some claim the past has never truly departed, including its most famous ghost - Richard Wagner, the legendary composer who died within its walls.

Wagner’s Room: Piano Music at Night

Room 13, better known as Wagner’s Room, remains one of the casino’s most eerie spaces. In 1883, Richard Wagner spent his final days here, labouring over his opera Parsifal before his sudden death.

Since then, staff and visitors have reported hearing the delicate strains of piano music drifting through the night. The melodies, often recognised as Wagner’s own compositions, seem to come from an unseen player at the antique piano that still resides in the room.

Guests describe the air growing colder as the music begins, sometimes accompanied by the faint outline of a man in 19th-century attire, seated behind the ivory keys.

On approach, both music and apparition fade into silence, leaving only the stillness of an empty chamber. Locals believe Wagner’s spirit lingers here, bound to the place of his final breath, his ghostly music a perpetual farewell performance.

The Elegant Spectre of the Roulette Tables

The grandeur of the gaming floors has also given rise to stories of an elegant spectre who appears at the roulette tables. Witnesses speak of a figure clad in the fashions of another age, although stories do vary. Some say it's a woman in a silk gown and feathered hat, others a gentleman with a monocle and finely tailored coat. They stand silently by the wheel, watching the spin with an intensity that suggests they are still awaiting their fortune, even in death.

Many late-night gamblers have described feeling a sudden icy presence at their side, only to glimpse the figure reflected in the polished tables before it disappears.

Who it, or they, might be remains a mystery. The apparition is believed to be the spirit of a former high roller from Venice’s aristocratic past, unable to relinquish the thrill of the wager. However, is it guardian or gambler?

A Harmony of History and Haunting

For many, the Casinò di Venezia is much more than a gaming hall. It is a bridge between past and present, where the city’s artistic and aristocratic history lingers in ghostly form.

From Wagner’s eternal serenade in Room 13 to the spectral patrons still drawn to the roulette wheel, the casino offers not just games of chance but encounters with the uncanny.

Designed by Charles Garnier, architect of the Paris Opera, the casino has become a global symbol of elegance and excess.

Beneath its glamour, though, lies a darker legacy, one steeped in tales of despair and the supernatural. From the tragic figure of the Red Lady to the shadows of ruined gamblers, Monte-Carlo’s grandeur is said to harbour the restless spirits of those who paid the highest price for their wagers.

The Red Lady of the Roulette Rooms

Among Monte-Carlo’s most enduring legends is that of the Red Lady, a ghostly apparition who drifts silently through the roulette rooms. Witnesses describe her in a flowing scarlet gown, her presence marked by a sudden chill in the air and the faint perfume of roses. She is often seen standing by the roulette wheel, her gaze fixed on the spin as if reliving a fatal moment of chance.

Some report that she vanishes as soon as the ball settles, while others claim to hear the soft rustle of silk or a quiet sob lingering in her wake. The legend holds that she was once a noblewoman who lost her family fortune, and eventually her life, to the tables.

Condemned by despair, her spirit is said to remain bound to the roulette rooms, eternally repeating her last, desperate gamble. Superstition insists that her appearance foreshadows misfortune, a chilling reminder that luck is rarely loyal.

Shadows of Ruined Gamblers

The galleries of the casino, adorned with chandeliers and marble colonnades, also bear their share of spectral stories. Late at night, staff and visitors speak of indistinct figures pacing restlessly through the corridors. These shadowy forms are said to move with frantic energy, as though still chasing fortunes long since lost.

The apparitions are often accompanied by ghostly sounds, though no tables are in play; the shuffle of cards, the clink of coins, or the distant murmur of wagers. Security cameras have on occasion, captured fleeting silhouettes dissolving into the walls, convincing some that these are the lingering souls of gamblers ruined within the casino’s opulent halls.

Local lore whispers that several players, unable to bear their losses, ended their lives here, their despair imprinted in the galleries where they once sought salvation in chance.

Where Fortune Meets the Unseen

The Casino de Monte-Carlo remains a place of splendour, where luxury and risk intertwine. Yet for all its elegance, the shadows of the past seem unwilling to depart. In the Red Lady’s tragic vigil and the restless wanderings of ruined gamblers, the casino reminds us that even in the most glamorous of settings, loss and longing can endure beyond the grave.

For visitors, Monte-Carlo offers more than a roll of the dice. It is a chance to glimpse the fragile boundary between fortune and fate, opulence and eternity.

In the lively heart of Brisbane’s Central Business District (CBD), the Treasury Casino & Hotel stood as a striking union of heritage and modern indulgence. Occupying three imposing sandstone buildings (the Treasury Building, Lands Administration Building, and Executive Building), it was constructed between 1886 and 1928 to house Queensland’s colonial government offices.

These spaces once echoed with the intrigues of politics and bureaucracy before being transformed into a casino and luxury hotel in 1995. With chandeliers gleaming above marble halls, the venue offered guests a mix of grandeur and gaming until its closure in August 2024, ahead of redevelopment.

But while its doors have shut, its darker stories endure. The site is remembered not just for its architecture but for its ghostly legends, most famously the restless spirit of Marjorie Norval in Room 323 and the phantom officials said to stalk the old government chambers.

The question is, as the casino moves to the Queen's Wharf Brisbane Precinct, will the spirits go with it?

Room 323: The Ghost of Marjorie Norval

Among Brisbane’s most enduring ghost stories is that of Marjorie Norval, secretary to the wife of Premier William Forgan Smith in the 1930s. She mysteriously vanished in 1940, amid rumours of a scandalous affair, a botched abortion, and her grisly dismemberment. Whispers claim her remains were concealed within the walls of what became Room 323, once known as Room 11 of the Lands Administration Building.

Guests who have stayed in the room report chilling phenomena: cries for help echoing from the walls and floor, frantic scratching sounds as though someone were clawing for escape, and faucets turning on by themselves to flood the bathroom.

Belongings are hurled across the room by unseen forces, while some visitors have described glimpsing a distraught woman in period dress, her face twisted in anguish, before she vanishes into shadow.

An official inquiry five years after her disappearance suggested she died during a failed medical procedure. Yet many believe her spirit remains trapped, seeking justice or release from her secret tomb.

Bureaucratic Phantoms in the Old Government Offices

The former government offices within the casino complex also bear the weight of the supernatural. Staff working late have reported files shifting on their own, papers fluttering as though examined by invisible clerks, and the sound of footsteps pacing around desks.

Lights flicker erratically, bulbs unscrewing themselves or exploding without cause, leaving shadows that dance like ghostly officials still buried in paperwork.

One security guard described a surreal encounter: entering a corridor to see a stack of aged documents cascade from a shelf, only to arrange themselves neatly before scattering once again.

The activity has been linked to the lingering spirits of civil servants and bureaucrats, men and women once caught up in political machinations, seemingly unable to let go of their earthly duties.

A Haunted Legacy

Though the Treasury Casino & Hotel has recently closed, its legacy lives on in tales of despair and restless spirits. Between Marjorie Norval’s tragic cries and the phantom clerks still shuffling their papers, the site represents more than a chapter in Brisbane’s gaming history. It is a place where the ghosts of power, scandal, and sorrow linger.

For those who knew its stories, the Treasury offered not only cards and dice but a chance to confront the city’s darker past.

Opened in 2007, the Grand Lisboa dazzles with its futuristic lotus-shaped design, while the original Casino Lisboa, established in 1962, retains a nostalgic mid-century charm. Together they symbolise the fortune-fuelled empire that has made Macau the world’s gambling capital. Yet beneath the glitz and prosperity lies a more unsettling layer. Over the years, both venues have become linked to tales of the supernatural, where ruined gamblers and restless spirits are said to haunt their corridors and lifts.

Corridor Apparitions of Ruined Gamblers

Among the most frequently reported encounters are the apparitions of gamblers who, according to legend, lost everything at the tables. Staff and late-night guests describe shadowy figures shuffling along the carpeted hallways, their movements heavy with despair. Some are seen in torn suits or elegant evening gowns from decades past, their hands clutching invisible stacks of chips or playing cards.

Witnesses recount hearing faint sobs or the metallic clatter of coins striking the floor, yet nothing is found when investigated. Security cameras have even recorded fleeting shapes dissolving into the walls, lending weight to these accounts.

Many believe these figures are the spirits of those driven to ruin (or worse) by the casino’s relentless games of chance. In gilded corridors lined with glass, gold, and crystal, these broken souls seem condemned to wander in silence, their defeats replayed eternally.

Elevators Opening to Empty Floors

The casinos’ lifts are another source of eerie reports. Guests stepping inside describe unsettling journeys where the doors open to reveal deserted floors, bathed in dim, flickering light. Some hear whispers in the confined space, or the faint chime of slot machines from nowhere, only to step out into empty corridors.

Staff have their own chilling stories: elevators that stop at random levels without being called, doors sliding open to reveal silent, lifeless hallways charged with a palpable energy. A night manager once reported ascending to the 18th floor, only to be greeted by a sudden blast of cold air and muffled laughter, the lift doors closing again on nothing but emptiness.

Paranormal enthusiasts suggest these experiences may reflect spirits trapped in limbo, bound to the casino’s vertical labyrinth of lifts and landings.

Macau’s Glittering but Haunted Heart

The Grand Lisboa and Casino Lisboa embody Macau’s dual nature as a place of dazzling wealth and opportunity yet shadowed by tales of despair and loss. For some visitors, they are temples of fortune. For others, they are haunted halls where the echoes of ruined gamblers and the uncanny silences of deserted floors refuse to fade.

In the heart of Asia’s gambling capital, these iconic casinos remind us that where fortunes rise, spirits may linger. And perhaps not every winner or loser leaves the building.

For over a century, the hotel welcomed vacationers to the seaside, witnessing the rise and fall of Atlantic City’s fortunes. When its halls were reborn as a casino, it became a symbol of the Boardwalk revival. Yet, behind the glitz of slot machines and oceanfront glamour lies a reputation that has made Resorts not only a gaming destination but also a focal point of haunted lore.

From the echoing corridors of the Ocean Tower to the phantom knocks that disturb guests in the night, Resorts Atlantic City has been woven into ghost tours, paranormal investigations, and whispered tales of residual energy said to saturate its foundations.

Its legends combine seaside charm with a spectral edge, making it one of the most talked-about haunted casinos in the United States.

The Ocean Tower Hauntings

The Ocean Tower, a modern addition to the historic complex, is often cited as the epicentre of Resorts’ ghostly reputation. Guests walking its long, carpeted corridors late at night have reported the unnerving sensation of being followed. Footsteps echo behind them, rhythmic and deliberate, only to stop abruptly when they turn around to look. The silence that follows is said to be more chilling than the noise itself.

Doors are known to shake violently, as if rattled by unseen hands, and in some cases, door knobs have turned by themselves. Housekeeping staff have refused to clean certain rooms alone, citing a hostile presence. Some rooms are said to rearrange themselves, with furniture shifted and faint handprints appearing on mirrors.

A number of guests claim to have glimpsed shadowy figures, half-seen out of the corner of their eye, dissolving into the dim light of the corridor. Paranormal investigators suggest these disturbances may be linked to former patrons or employees, spirits tethered to the building and unable to leave behind their Atlantic City experiences.

Phantom Knocks in the Night

Another frequent complaint from guests involves phantom knocks in the dead of night. Visitors describe being woken by a series of sharp raps on their door, followed by muffled bumps as if someone were leaning or pacing just outside. On investigation, the hallway is always empty, silent but charged with a strange atmosphere.

Some guests report the knocks intensifying into persistent banging, unnerving enough to call security. Patrols, however, find no trace of intruders. One chilling account recalls a visitor who, after hours of relentless tapping, shouted in frustration, “Leave me alone!” — only to hear a heavy sigh from the empty corridor.

Whether these disturbances are pranks, echoes, or something otherworldly, they have become one of Resorts’ most enduring mysteries, contributing to its eerie after-dark reputation.

A Staple of the Boardwalk Ghost Tours

Given its haunted reputation, it is no surprise that Resorts Atlantic City features prominently on the city’s popular Boardwalk ghost tours. Guides often pause outside its grand façade to recount tales of footsteps, flickering lights, and unexplained shadows. Tour-goers report seeing vague figures moving across upper windows, dressed in 19th-century attire, disappearing when approached.

Inside, the Ocean Tower is a favourite stop. Participants are encouraged to listen for the faint echo of footsteps or to watch for sudden changes in the lighting. Even in well-maintained areas, guides point to creaks and groans in the old floorboards as evidence of the building’s layered history. The tours frame Resorts as not just a casino but a living museum of the paranormal, its walls said to carry the memories of every guest who passed through.

Residual Energy and Psychic Impressions

Psychics and spiritualists frequently describe Resorts Atlantic City as saturated with residual energy. They claim the building holds “emotional imprints” from gamblers who lost fortunes and lives that unravelled within its walls. Some sensitives report sensing waves of despair and frustration, particularly on the gaming floor, where fortunes were once won or lost in an instant.

One medium recounted feeling the presence of a man who, after a catastrophic losing streak, is believed to have taken his own life in the hotel. Others describe visions of shadowy figures slumped in despair, endlessly replaying their grief. Paranormal researchers suggest that the building’s long history of financial ruin and personal misfortune has etched itself into its foundations, producing the creaks, knocks, and apparitions that so many visitors describe.

Haunted Legacy by the Sea

Today, Resorts Atlantic City represents more than just a pioneering step in American gambling history. It is a place where the past and present overlap, where the grandeur of Victorian seaside holidays and the energy of the casino boom mingle with whispers of loss, despair, and unfinished stories. From phantom knocks that rattle guests at night to footsteps that echo in empty corridors, its legends have ensured a place in both paranormal lore and Atlantic City’s cultural memory.

For visitors, the casino offers more than a chance at fortune. It is a reminder that along the Boardwalk, where waves crash and lights glitter, the past still lingers. Resorts stands not only as a symbol of resilience and reinvention but also as a haunted monument, where every sound and shadow may carry with it the weight of history.

Casinos, with their glittering lights and heady promise of fortune, are natural breeding grounds for ghost stories. They combine high stakes, human drama, and often dark histories, creating the perfect conditions for tales of lingering spirits. Where lives are transformed (or destroyed) in an instant, it is little wonder that whispers of the supernatural take root.

High Stakes and Emotional Imprints

Every roll of the dice or spin of the wheel can shift a life’s trajectory. The euphoria of a jackpot or the despair of a crushing loss creates emotional intensity that some believe leaves a spiritual imprint. Stories abound of ghostly gamblers pacing corridors or haunting roulette tables, forever tied to the places where fate turned against them.

Tragedy and Crime

Many casinos carry shadows of violence and loss. Mob associations hint at sinister dealings; suicides, such as those linked to Macau’s casinos, echo with despair; while fires and disappearances, like the 1980 MGM Grand tragedy or Brisbane’s Marjorie Norval mystery, add layers of sorrow. These events feed the belief that spirits linger, trapped by unresolved pain or unfinished business.

Atmosphere and Architecture

The buildings themselves contribute to the mystique. Cavernous halls, dimly lit corridors, and forgotten tunnels create a stage for unsettling encounters. Footsteps in empty stairwells or flickering lights in opulent ballrooms invite the imagination to wander. Grandeur and isolation combine to turn every unexplained sound into a potential ghostly sign.

Psychology and Superstition

Gamblers are famously superstitious, their fortunes tied to charms, rituals, and streaks of luck. In such heightened states, paranoia and projection take over. A creak may be mistaken for a ghost’s step, a shadow for an apparition. The mind, charged by risk and reward, transforms the ordinary into the uncanny.

Benny 'The Bonus' Romano That's Classified

“Listen, kid. A casino ain’t just a room full of tables and machines. It’s a stage, a whole opera of winners and losers, where the lights, the walls, and the hustle all play their part. In joints like these, chance starts lookin’ like magic, and the past? Fuhgeddaboudit. The ghosts don’t leave; they’re sittin’ right next to ya, whisperin’ in your ear while you roll the dice.”

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Gamblers across the world are famously superstitious, clinging to rituals and charms in the hope of swaying fortune. Lucky tokens such as rabbit’s feet or four-leaf clovers are carried like talismans. Meanwhile, gestures, from blowing on dice to tapping the table before a hand, are performed with almost religious devotion.

Personally, I believe I have lucky casinos, lucky machines, and even a pair of lucky socks. When my partner and I are gambling on the same slot machine, I think it’s ‘luckier’ if he sits to my right, not left. I can’t tell you how many losing sessions I have attributed to that poor man possessing the temerity to sit in the wrong place!

The number 13, long associated with bad luck, is often avoided entirely, with some casinos omitting it from room numbers, floors, or table designations. These practices reflect a desire to impose order on an unpredictable world, where chance rules supreme but belief lends comfort.

The ‘Haunted Hot Seat’

One of the more curious superstitions is the idea of the “haunted hot seat”. Players insist that certain chairs at gaming tables are cursed or blessed, their histories carrying the weight of past wins or devastating losses.

Some avoid seats linked to streaks of misfortune, fearing a lingering jinx, while others deliberately choose a spot believed to attract luck. In this way, the gaming floor becomes a stage where superstition collides with memory, every shuffle infused with a sense of spectral influence.

Spirits and Streaks

When fortune fades, gamblers often turn to the supernatural for explanation. Unlucky streaks are blamed on vengeful ghosts, cursed dice, or restless presences, with reports of sudden chills or phantom whispers cited as proof. These stories provide a psychological shield, transforming mere bad luck into a narrative of interference beyond human control.

From Dice to Haunted Halls

If a pair of dice can be cursed, is it any wonder entire casinos are thought haunted? The same mindset that imbues objects with mystical energy extends to the very buildings themselves, where every flicker of light or echoing footstep becomes evidence of a ghostly presence. In this way, superstition and haunting intertwine, keeping alive the enduring mystique of casinos.

Benny 'The Bonus' Romano That's Classified

“For the real high-rollers, some rooms in these haunted joints ain’t just suites, they’re invitations you ain’t supposed to take. Step inside and you’re playin’ a whole different game than cards or dice. Those rooms? They’re soaked in bad breaks and old ghosts, stories that don’t cash out when the guest does. They hang around, watchin’, waitin’, like the house itself’s got a memory.”

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Luxor’s Room 30018

At the Luxor Hotel & Casino in Las Vegas, Room 30018 is whispered to house a poltergeist with an alarm clock’s precision. Guests report being jolted awake at exactly 8:30 a.m. by relentless metallic clanging, as though an unseen hand were rattling porcelain. Linked to construction deaths or the hotel’s so-called “curse”, some even connect it to a ghostly “Deadly Blonde” known for chillingly aggressive encounters. The room remains bookable, daring thrill-seekers to test their nerve.

Circus Circus’ Room 123

Though records suggest no such room exists, legend insists that Room 123 of Circus Circus holds echoes of maternal tragedy: the cries of a murdered child, ghostly pleas for “Dave”, and mirrors fogged with dripping HELP ME. Fuelled by the hotel’s troubled history, including real-life violence, the tale endures, even if the room itself cannot be booked.

Binion’s Room 400

At Binion’s Hotel Apache, Room 400 is marketed as the most haunted suite. Phones are said to dial themselves at night, receivers lifted by unseen hands while static whispers fill the line. Adjacent to the old count room, notorious for slamming doors and shadows, this mob-era relic now serves as a VIP experience for those seeking a brush with the beyond.

Treasury’s Room 323

In Brisbane’s former Treasury Casino & Hotel, Room 323 harbours the anguished spirit of Marjorie Norval, whose 1940 disappearance sparked scandal and rumours of foul play. Guests have reported cries for help, water gushing from taps, and objects hurled by unseen forces. Whether bookable today remains uncertain, but its legend endures.

Cal Neva’s Room 101

Once frequented by Hollywood stars, Cal Neva’s Room 101 is rumoured to be haunted by Marilyn Monroe, who stayed there before her death. Guests have reported an eerie presence followed by the scent of her perfume and the silhouette of a gowned woman in the mirror.

Wagner’s Suite, Room 13

At the Casinò di Venezia, the composer Richard Wagner spent his final days in Room 13. Visitors and staff still report hearing piano music from the empty suite, with fleeting glimpses of a man in 19th-century attire seated at the instrument.

Casinos thrive on belief. They are spaces where reality and imagination blur, and where gamblers and ghost stories intertwine in a shared narrative. At their core lies the human desire to impose meaning on chaos. A need that flourishes in places where fortunes can turn on the roll of a dice. As of September 2025, the allure of this connection remains as strong as ever.

Casinos Run on Faith

Logic dictates that the house always wins. The mathematics of gambling ensures that, over time, players will lose. Yet casinos flourish because gamblers choose to believe in luck, fate, or fortune. This leap of faith fuels every hand dealt and every spin of the wheel. Without it, gaming becomes nothing more than cold probability. The same willingness to embrace the unseen that sustains gambling also sets the stage for ghostly tales, where spirits are imagined as part of the game.

Rituals Reinforce Belief

Superstitions run deep in casino culture. Players rub statues for good luck, blow on dice, or refuse to sit at a table marked with the number 13. Some claim favourite seats, others guard lucky charms. These rituals are small acts of control, turning gambling into a kind of personal covenant with chance. It is only a short step from believing a charm can bend fortune to imagining that spirits, too, might bless or curse a game.

Ghost Stories as Explanations

If charms and rituals can influence chance, why not ghosts? Casino folklore is rich with tales of spirits like the Red Lady of Monte-Carlo or Marilyn Monroe at Cal Neva Lodge, whose presence is said to sway fortune. A winning streak may be credited to a benevolent ghost; a disastrous run blamed on a vengeful one. Ghost stories thus fit seamlessly into a worldview where luck itself is thought malleable.

The Psychology of Chance

High-stakes environments magnify the human tendency to seek patterns. A sudden chill, a flickering light, or a shadow glimpsed in the corner becomes a sign, a message from beyond that explains success or failure. In this heightened atmosphere, gamblers project meaning onto randomness, transforming mundane events into evidence of the supernatural.

Belief as the Ultimate Gamble

In the end, belief itself is the greatest wager. To gamble is to bet against logic, trusting in chance or destiny. To believe in spirits is to extend that leap into the realm of the unseen. Whether rolling dice or sensing a ghost at the roulette table, the act of believing, despite the odds, defines the casino experience.

Casinos are not only arenas of fortune but also haunted stages, where every bet becomes a dance with the unknown.

Ghost stories flourish in casinos, often rooted in sites of tragedy, yet the evidence remains stubbornly anecdotal. Eyewitness reports and unsettling feelings take the place of hard proof. Tales such as the spectral cries of Circus Circus’ Room 123 or the Red Lady of Monte-Carlo captivate imaginations, but lack scientific validation, relying instead on personal accounts that vary wildly.

Casinos themselves sometimes lean into this folklore. The haunted reputations of Binion’s Room 400 or Brisbane’s Treasury Room 323 have become part of their allure, occasionally even marketed to attract thrill-seekers. In these cases, hauntings may be less supernatural reality and more legend, carefully cultivated as part of the brand.

Many so-called paranormal experiences can be explained by natural causes. Old floorboards, cavernous halls and hidden tunnels are perfect for producing creaks and echoes that mimic phantom footsteps. Dim lighting and flickering bulbs create the impression of shadows where none exist. Psychological factors play their part too: gamblers, already on edge in high-stakes environments, are primed to see patterns in chaos. A sudden draught or unexplained noise becomes a ghostly sign because the mind demands meaning.

That said, tragedy does provide fertile ground for ghost lore. The devastating 1980 MGM Grand fire, suicides linked to gambling losses, and violent episodes tied to mob history (such as at the Cal Neva Lodge) offer factual anchors for these stories. These events, etched into casino history, lend plausibility to the idea that suffering might leave an imprint.

Sceptics maintain the supernatural is a construct of psychology and storytelling, while believers insist tragedy leaves echoes the living cannot ignore. The truth likely lies somewhere in between. Casinos weave together verifiable history and invented mystique, creating a narrative that thrives on uncertainty where fact and folklore blur into one.

As of September 2025, haunted casinos continue to attract thrill-seekers, offering ghost walks and tours that combine history with the supernatural. These experiences provide a safe way to explore spectral lore, from mobster legends to unexplained chills.

Haunted Casino Tours and Walks

In Las Vegas, the Flamingo Hotel & Casino, said to be haunted by its founder Bugsy Siegel, features on Vegas Ghosts’ Strip Tour. This 90-minute experience visits 10 haunted sites, including Planet Hollywood, with tickets priced around $75 per person. Also in Vegas, the Lizzie Borden Ghost Tours group runs a “Kings of Vegas” speakeasy crawl, exploring haunted landmarks such as the Flamingo and mob-linked haunts.

The Hippodrome Casino in London doesn’t offer its own ghost tours, but its Judy Garland-haunted staircases are often included in West End walks (around £20), while the nearby theatre district lends an extra touch of atmosphere. In Saskatchewan, the Ghost RIDE tour at Casino Regina highlights sightings of its ghostly conductor and includes psychic-led hunts, finishing with a drink at Regina Brewing for about $50.

Further afield, US Ghost Adventures offers nationwide tours, such as the mob-cursed casinos of Las Vegas and the historic Canfield Casino in Saratoga Springs (July–August 2025, $25, suitable for ages 10+).

Ghost-Hunting Shows

Some casinos have found fame through television. Binion’s Hotel in Las Vegas featured in Ghost Adventures (2019), where investigators uncovered violent spirits in its shuttered rooms. The episode inspired ongoing investigations, while the casino itself now hosts themed events to capitalise on its haunted reputation.

A Word of Advice

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Enjoy the thrills but tread respectfully. Many ghost stories and reported hauntings stem from genuine tragedies such as fires, suicides, and mob violence. Stick to guided tours, avoid trespassing, and remember: the unease is part of the experience. Casinos prioritise safety, so always follow instructions and report anything unusual.

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Casinos embody the full spectrum of human experience. Fortunes won in a dazzling instant, ruin lurking with the next roll, glamour shimmering beneath neon lights, and despair etched into every lost bet. These extremes make them fertile ground for ghost legends. From the Red Lady of Monte-Carlo to the phantom cries of Circus Circus’ Room 123, tales of hauntings are rooted in the intensity of gambling and the tragedies woven into casino history. Vast halls, shadowed corridors and hidden tunnels amplify the eerie atmosphere, inviting tales of the supernatural.

These stories endure because they echo the gambler’s own mindset. Belief in luck over logic, rituals to bend fate, and the constant search for patterns in the chaos of chance all create a framework where ghosts slip naturally into the narrative. Spirits become convenient scapegoats for loss or benevolent guardians of sudden fortune, blending seamlessly with charms, cursed dice and lucky seats.

Whether real or imagined, the paranormal heightens the allure of the casino. Every creak becomes a thrill, every shadow a story. To walk through a haunted gambling hall is to gamble not only with money but with imagination itself.

In the end, the appeal lies in the gamble of belief. Casinos are not merely gaming dens but theatres where luck and loss dance with the unknown. For the daring, these haunted halls offer the chance to confront the past. Some may experience echoes of tragedies and the whisper of spirits with every bet placed. The paranormal, like the house edge, ensures the casino always wins, capturing imaginations long after the chips are cashed.