A Ghost Story Novels & Stories

Suddenly, Oliwen raised his hand and he said: “Me!” “Oliwen? Alright, but you should be careful, the Domin’s citizens are not friendly at all.” Oliwen: “...” “About the prophecy…” Pure waved her hand, and a crystal globe appeared “We should take a look at this globe.” When she’d just finished talking, a sudden light appeared in the room. Then the room was covered with a strange light. That kind of light made the room special. A dim picture appeared on the globe… That is a village, a village in the human world. A boy standing in the alley with a beggar…Then a small beautiful star fell on top of the boy. A series of deep breaths resounded from everyone in the room.

He looked again at the book I was carrying and let out a sigh, as if what he was about to say weighed more than he had expected. “What you saw last night…” he began, his eyes serious, “wasn’t a nightmare or a hallucination. Scarlett, the creature that almost drowned you is a gorgon. A princess of the lake, to be exact.” The words barely seemed real, and for a moment I thought it had to be some kind of joke. “A… gorgon?” I repeated, incredulous. “Like in the legends?” “Yes.” Alex nodded, his expression completely certain. “I don’t know why a lake princess attacked you, but I promise I’ll find out.”

“Y-You’re supposed to be. . .” “Dead?” she smiled, pulling up a stool and sitting across from me, legs crossed like we were about to have coffee. “Yeah. That’s the story, isn’t it? The tragic, mysterious girl Roman forgot. The ghost from his past. But ghosts don’t stay buried when you touch what's theirs.” I stared at her, shaking. “Why are you doing this?” “Because Roman Sinclair doesn’t get to move on. Not after what he did.” I didn’t understand.

Ivan hesitated, clearly terrified to speak the name. “She’s made contact with him. The Ghost.” The temperature in the room dropped instantly. I looked between them, confused. “Who is the Ghost?” Nikolai’s face had gone deathly white. He slowly sat down, rubbing his face with both hands. “The Ghost,” he said quietly, “is a legend. A shadow. No one knows his real name. He doesn’t run a family — he destroys them. He’s the one who orchestrates silent coups. The one who makes entire bloodlines disappear overnight. Even my father was afraid of him.”

Stunning in its perfect hostility. "And speaking of the past..." he says, lowering his glass with deliberate slowness. "I'm told we have a very special guest with us tonight. A ghost, really. One I spent years chasing through continents and silence, through encrypted messages and dead ends." Flora's heart slams against her ribs with such force she fears everyone can hear it echoing through the cavernous space.

She called out, her voice echoing eerily in the vast emptiness. "Ghost?" she whispered, her voice barely a sound. A chuckle, low and sardonic, filled the darkness. Then, a single figure emerged from the shadows. Tall and shrouded in darkness, its face hidden beneath a hood, this was Ghost.

He drove with purpose, and I, like a phantom shadow, drifted along in his wake. I followed him as he made his rounds in a department store, buying things he had never once considered buying for me. It wasn't hard to see the distinction between love and indifference. My ghostly form seemed to grow heavier with every step, weighted down by the bitterness of seeing the man I had loved so deeply pamper another woman so thoroughly.

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.

“Ghosts aren’t usually this… flexible.” “Exactly,” Alexandra said. “They’re usually trapped in a loop—stuck in how they died.” “But this one keeps switching up his whole persona,” I said. “What kind of ghost changes its story mid-haunt?” Alexandra shook his head. “None that I’ve ever seen. Usually, how they die defines their entire pattern. This? It’s all over the place.” He paused. “Wait.” I glanced up. Alexandra was frowning at the screen, eyes narrowed.

"A ghost baby?" Vera and Brandon traded glances with each other. This was their first time hearing of such a thing. "Cassian, what exactly is a ghost baby?" Brandon asked curiously. Cassian answered, "There are three types of ghost babies in this world. The first ghost baby is formed because its mother has gone through an abortion or a miscarriage. Since the fetus is either undeveloped or has newly developed, its spirit isn't accepted by the afterlife. Because of that, the fetus's spirit continues to linger in this world, so it eventually transforms into a ghost and sticks to its mother's side.