9 Ghosts Novels & Stories

The other ghost frightened and hid behind the white lady. Garfield pondered, "Are they evil spirits? How many and how strong?" The white lady shook her head, "It’s not that they are strong…. it is just…. there are hundreds of them and we don’t even know if they are evil or not but all of them are mischievous and working together!" Garfield was surprised. He was also amazed by the fact that there such place exist and the ghosts led them to that place! He looked at K Whatever who wasn’t even bother. ‘Maybe, this player can change the norms in the reaper society…’ He smiled and followed the ghosts.

The dust from the stranger rose into the air, swirling into a shape she recognized—The ghost. His face was thin, pale, and endless. His voice echoed from every direction at once. “You killed one, but I am many,” the ghost whispered. “I am every fear you refused to confront and every truth you refused to speak.” Vincent’s claws shook with tension as he spoke. “You don’t belong here either.” The ghost smiled. “Neither do you.” He raised his hand, and the sky tore open to reveal a red storm filled with faces—thousands of brides all screaming, with their mouths stitched shut.

Xavier joked. "According to my grandfather, a month after the boy's death, students started missing. They were all found dead in the woods a week or two after. They dubbed the serial killer as Sunnyville Reaper. And, from what my grandfather told me, your parents are one of those kids who bullied him." The student said before leaving. Even Xavier who always care less about anything around him fell silent. He could never imagine that his mother would be involved in something so dark like that.

Every step tightened the pressure behind his sternum, pulling him deeper. “You always hated this place,” Vex’s voice echoed suddenly, smooth and amused. “Said it smelt like ghosts.” Riven stopped. The voice came from everywhere and nowhere—reverberating through tunnels, bleeding through walls. “Funny thing,” Vex continued. “Turns out ghosts don’t leave. They just change shape.” Riven’s jaw set. “Show yourself.” Laughter rippled through the dark. Lights flickered to life one by one, revealing a massive junction chamber ahead—old control panels, broken signal boards, and cables hanging like exposed veins.

Those who had discovered the truth were swiftly silenced, their secrets dying with them. The rumors about The Ghost were the stuff of criminal legend. They said he could walk through walls, that he had spies in every major organization, that he could make people disappear without a trace. Some said he wasn't human at all, but a vengeful spirit who had returned from the dead to punish the wicked. Victor did nothing to discourage these tales—in fact, he cultivated them.

After a while, Leslie stretched and yawned, feeling the weight of sleep. ​"Hey, I'm tired. Let’s go back, it’s really late," Leslie suggested. ​"You go ahead," Scarlett replied firmly. "I’ll head back later. I just want to stay a bit longer." ​Leslie looked at her with a mix of worry and resignation, but finally nodded and began walking back to camp. Scarlett was left alone by the lake, unaware that she was being watched from the other side of the water. ​Across the lake, Zafira and her sister Zahia—two gorgons, women with serpent tails instead of legs—hid in the shadows. Zafira, her serpentine body coiling around itself, watched Scarlett with a mix of surprise and overflowing rage.

ZEPHYR’S POV “Yes, there are two of our ghosts who are not with us now.” “Do they have names?” I asked him. “N….” He paused, rethinking his reply again. Then he said. “We go by one name, Ghost. Any other name aside this, I am unaware of it. I know it seems undutiful for me to not have this simple information but sometimes our ghosts tend to break out of character and hence get themselves into scenarios that end up leaving them with souvenirs like names, tattoos, tags.”

Her eyes went wide with shock: tiny skeletal remains slipped out. She froze, watching in horror as the bones instantly shattered, turning to a fine dust that vanished before her eyes. Ghouls rushed forward, sickles raised to cleave her. Suddenly, Horan surged between them. He cursed with every ounce of his being, delivering a bone-jarring kick to the face of each attacker. "I don't give a damn about bad deeds in times like these!" he spat. "Jennet, get up!" Horan nudged her leg, his voice sharp with urgency.

"He's right, you know. Two years ago, you disappeared into thin air right after informing us the wedding was canceled. We wouldn't have known what happened to you if Ian didn't tell us. What kind of a friend are you anyway?" "That's exactly how I feel. You didn't even bother updating us, and you were late to your own party! You're going to have to pay for that by doing shots." "You got that right! No one's leaving here sober tonight. Let's all have a blast!" Cecily had never met my childhood friends before. Worried that they might not like her, she felt rather nervous. Sensing her uneasiness, I quietly took her hand. Once our eyes met, she felt a lot more reassured.

Still nothing happened. When the dust settled, an ugly sneer twisted through their throats. Suddenly, their heightened senses of sight and hearing were restored and almost instantly the sound vanished. A young girl about twelve years of age, wearing a foul robe of dark brown, stood at the top of the broken staircase. With a swift turn of her head, she gazed down at them, her face set in a cold, cruel smile. Her eyes looked like empty pits in the darkness, and her long, thin mouth opened in a hideous, cackling laugh. A twisted grin covered the right side of her face, and gleaming white fangs dripping with red blood stared back at them. An evil leer smeared across her face. In a voice like sto