Angry Ghosts Novels & Stories

Clara's POV. Nine days had passed since I signed the contract and became Clara Cross on paper. Nine days. In just over a week, my life had turned completely upside down, and somewhere along the way, I realized refusing to break had become my only choice. The whole of America already knew the Ghost of Wall Street had a wife. Ironically, I found out the exact same way everyone else did. Through headlines and posts scattered across the internet. The Ghost of Wall Street Is Married. Who Is Clara Cross?

" Two guards in black immediately moved in, ignoring Nellie's struggle as they dragged her toward the exit. Around them, guests lifted their phones, snapping pictures and laughing under their breath. Voices overlapped, mocking how pathetic the Scott siblings were, laughing that people like them might as well be dead. What they didn't know was that I was already dead. And Nellie was suffering from the same illness I had. She didn't have much time left either.

“Every lash is another nail in his coffin. The pack needs to see his fear, his desperation. They need to feel his fist tighten until they can’t breathe. Then, they’ll be ready to bite the hand that suffocates them.” “They’re scared, Austin,” Marcus had chimed in, his broken nose making his voice even more gravelly. “But they’re also starting to get angry. Real angry. The ‘accidents’ happening to Roric’s enforcers.... people are talking. They’re saying a ghost is back. A Kaelen ghost, come to clean house.” A ghost. I almost smiled at that. Let them think what they wanted. As long as it sowed chaos. Selena, my Freckles, was my other pair of eyes and ears, a silent, deadly wraith moving through

I call ghost, he got more than one skill, and opening closed-door virtual and real ones are one of his many skills. He uses his key locks tools and messes with the door for a bit until it opens. Finally, I walk down with ghost behind me, I find a small girl laying naked on the floor. She's thin, too thin, her blond hair match mine only hers is dirty and matted on her head. Her blue eyes are hardly open, I can see bruises all over her fragile body. Taking off my shirt I cover her quickly and pick her up leaving this hell behind. "You're safe now baby sister" I whisper in her ears she closes her eyes letting darkness take her.

“I don’t get it. You said spirits and ghosts. Isn’t a spirit a ghost?” She shook her head. “A spirit is free flowing and intelligent. It knows no boundaries and can come and go at will. A ghost is basically trapped energy. Ghost hunters often refer to them as residual energy. Ghosts often don’t realize that they died. If they do, they aren’t able to understand where to go and what to do, so they cling to the familiar.” “Can I ask you something without you getting upset with me?” I stammered, hesitantly.

As Christopher and Angela were passing by. "Ghosts? Is this place haunted?" Angela's face began paling at the mention of ghosts. The feeling like someone had dipped the tip of their fingers in an ice bucket and began walking those finger tips up Angela's spine began creeping up her body. "It's not really haunted right?" "Wait wait wait! You're the one being groomed to take over Vicard trading, your father's business, all his land and money... And you're afraid of ghosts!? Aren't you knowledge types suppose to only believe in what's in front of y- OWW!" Angela gave him a solid kick to the shin yet again. "God the same spot! It's going to bruise and you're going to have some angry women after

Christopher and Zyter exchanged a fierce glance, their determination unshakeable. Suddenly, the tranquility shattered as the Blood Ghosts emerged from the darkness. They materialized before the hunters, their red eyes glowing with malice. The sight sent shivers down Christopher's spine, but he steadied himself, gripping his sword tightly. The Ghosts were relentless, their numbers seemingly endless.

the young woman asked. "Ghosts, Love." "Are you telling me that ghosts exist?" whispered Bianca. "I'm a fucking werewolf, Love. Why shouldn't those motherfuckers exist?" snarled Black. _ Those motherfuckers need to die... shit, they're already dead! How do you kill a fucking ghost?" whined Maska, putting his paws over his eyes.

“This is between you and me. So, let’s settle it, Denis.” Ghost’s eyes narrowed and his face warped into a twisted mask of anger and indignation. “Denis died a long time ago. My name is Ghost.” He walked forward and put his gun right against Will’s forehead. The girls yelped in fear at the sudden movement. Alex and Spencer were rigid as terror gripped them as well. “And I am here to haunt you.” It happened in slow motion. Ghost’s arm moved from Will towards Emma his finger tightening even more around the trigger.

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.”