9 Ghosts Novels & Stories

Even if she did, she'd blame it on the wind. "Ghost?" Sharon was becoming concerned, "I thought you don't believe in such things?" "Really? Oh, em." Geneva cleared her throat and spoke confidently, "that's true, I am not scared by flimsy things such as ghooosts!" The last word Sharon heard was the word 'ghosts' being screamed into her eardrums before she heard nothing else. The phone had fallen and disassembled and the call, disconnected.

He wasn’t summoning beasts. He was dragging the in-between into the now. Cracks tore open in the sky. The air turned sharp, cold, wrong. Ghosts spilled through the veil—wolves, twisted and lost, turned half-mad by unfinished lives. Not just spirits. These were memories that had forgotten they’d died. They surged toward me. I roared, driving my dagger into the ground. A ring of light exploded outward. The ghosts wailed, some vanishing instantly, others dragged back into their graves by unseen hands.

We exchanged glances for a second, but I was quick to avert my gaze and I didn't even know why. They've got tattoos on their faces and arms down to their shoulders. It was in the middle of the road, the sides surrounded by a lake. The one with a bird tattoo stepped forward, his smirk wider than the rest. “Look who we have here. It's Ghost” he laughed. “The soulless dead man who is here to haunt us today. Oh, I'm getting scared” another said. They laughed, and I let them hold their peace before they ended up in misery.

Once night came, Rey couldn’t help but ask, “…Are you really sure that we’ll see the ghost tonight, brother Gerald…?” “Putting it simply, all ghosts instinctually feel the need to return to crime scenes involving them. Adding that to the fact that night is usually the most active time for ghosts, I’m pretty sure that the grudgeful ghost will make a return!” replied Gerald. With how confident Gerald sounded, Rey was inclined to believe that Gerald must be right. Seeing that Rey had asked, Gerald took his phone out to check the time… Apparently, it was already ten. Nodding as he slid his phone back into his pocket, Gerald then said, “Alright, let’s make our move!”

I looked through the window of his eyes, wondering what was wrong. “Ghouls!” Came the sturdy voice of Kir. “They are here and in large numbers. I can smell them!” He explained, and every atom of peace left me. Ghouls were bad news, and Ithra lay asleep on Kir’s back, totally undisturbed. They were dead spirits that escaped the underworld, roaming through the dark forest and sniffling souls from every living thing they sensed. Thankfully, as a werewolf, we learned to mask our scent using the earth, and Kir was ready to do that. Except that Ithra was still asleep and in harm's way.

The evolution-fest continued for around two more hours, as the evolutions took some time to end, and after that Chaos wanted to name every single one of these little and measly monsters as well to give them one last boost. Will-o-wisps became Ghosts after the miasma, and after being named each Ghost attained some kind of element, there were Inferno Ghosts that used fire, Storm Ghosts that had wind, Dark Ghosts that could wield darkness, and even the rare Bright Ghost, who could use light! All of them were S-Rank, from measly E-Rank monsters such as Will-o-wisps who can barely hurt a weak orc child, this was a great jump!

"What are these things? They're like something out of a nightmare." Caleb's eyes glinted with determination as he stepped forward. "They're nothing we can't handle. Stay together and fight as one. We'll make it through this." And they did. The group worked together, their movements fluid and efficient as they battled the undead horde. Eventually, the last zombie had fallen, and they were able to continue on their journey. Their final obstacle came in the form of ghosts. As they approached their destination, they were suddenly surrounded by a group of ethereal beings, their faces twisted in anger and pain. The ghosts seemed to materialize out of thin air, their moans echoing through the night

I was even able to see her broken neck bone… She was a karkinos ghost, I instantly recognized her as I remember reading about them in my grandmother book, as per ancient culture, Ghosts with small means are classified under three category first one is Needle-hair ghosts who have hair like iron needles, distressing to themselves and other, second one is Smelly-hair ghosts who have spike-like hair that emits an awful odor and lastly karkinos ghosts who have large goiters on whose pus they must feed. She was karkinos ghost, her state looked horrible… my gaze were tentatively fixed on her when she suddenly lifted her right hand up and pointed in left direction….

He stood up and walked to where he used to out his books, he took a small but old looking book and came back to where he was sitting, next to me. "I read it in this book , there is a certain theory which say that people might have ghost clones, these clones looks and dresses exactly like the original you and they can do anything you can do. Sometimes if you are lucky you can have a good clone but if you are unlucky you are likely to have a bad and evil clone , which means you are unlucky because yours is evil" he explained. His explanation shocked me , i have never heard such things and I've never believed in ghost theories.

Marcus, the quiet guy from accounting leaned against the door, arms crossed, with a bitter smirk twisting his lips. “McAllen,” he said. “You’ve been looking real happy lately. I see you enjoy your late night with the boss.” My stomach dropped. “What the hell are you talking about?” He stepped closer, I could see the jealousy in his eyes. “ I saw you leaving the private elevator. Looking like a man whose ass has taken some cock. You’re not the first, you know. The Ghost destroys anyone who tries to get close. You’re just the latest toy.” “The Ghost?” I laughed it off, but my voice sounded shaky even to me. “Sounds like some movie legend bullshit.”