Bloody Mary Ghost Novels & Stories

Her forehead wrinkled feeling the bitterness of the coffee which was actually not that bitter. She didn't like coffee, She only drank it so Loren wouldn't see clearly that she was smiling teasingly at Loren. "It was then that my mother summoned the shaman..." Loren responded seriously. “They performed an exorcism ritual. But the ghost was even more ferocious and made things fly and fall apart. They even got hurt by the broken glass.” Ria nodded. Until here the story was still the same as Kevin's. “It all just happened. The shaman said that the ghost didn't like anyone living in his house and told my mother to get out of there."

Then, without a second thought, he joined her in the water, slashing at his own wrist. As the blood mixed with the water, Grayson's vision blurred. In his final moments, he saw me—there, standing at the edge of the bathtub. His face lit up with a wild, desperate joy as he tried to stagger toward me, calling my name. "Honey," he cried, his voice full of longing. I stared at him, my eyes cold and distant, a disgust so sharp it cut through everything. "I'm not your honey," I said. "Not in this life, not in the next, not in any life to come. Not ever."

--- Dinner was… an experience. The menu consisted of dishes that looked normal enough—roasted meats, glazed vegetables—but every goblet at the table was filled with blood. I stuck to water. Which, by the way, made me the only person in the room not drinking blood, and I could feel the curious stares from the other guests.

But roasted meat could only get me so far. There was a door in the kitchen, and a peep through the window told me that it was the backyard. I went out and the night's cold breeze did something to calm my nerves. Marcello was right, this place linked into a thick forest. And with my enhanced sight and hearing, I sensed bats from close by trees. Those were going to have to do for the night. I ran with a desperation that I could not suppress. And before I knew it, my fangs were deep in a bat. I moaned as the metallic state of blood filled my mouth, sucking it in for my dear life.

The light from the chandelier above the dining table cast a warm yellow glow, but in my eyes, that light felt like an interrogation lamp. Porcelain plates were arranged with painful precision on the polished teak table. Diego Watson, a man with broad shoulders—the remnants of his glory days as a competitive weightlifter—cut his steak with steady, rhythmic movements.

“If this gets me killed, I’m haunting you.” “Wouldn’t be the first ghost I’ve met.” “Then I’ll make sure I’m the loudest.” She pressed her hand to the runes. For a heartbeat, nothing happened — then her mark burned to life. The seal flared white, the ancient stone groaning as it split open. The air rushed inward, carrying a scent that made her skin crawl. Blood. Old, dried, and layered with incense and ash. Zevran’s jaw tensed. “They’ve been using this place again.”

"With everything that happened. Starting with me trying to go back to Boston, then realising I'm a ghost. I went back there and jumped into that empty grave, Trying to kill myself" "Wait wait wait." Austin interrupted her, smiling. "You knew you were a Ghost, and you tried to kill yourself " he raised his hands in apology, as he couldn't control his laughter. He saw she wasn't having any of it, and stopped laughing, but the smile on his face couldn't fade away.

His lifeless body dropped helplessly to the ground, a pool of blood quickly forming around him. At that moment, a very loud terrified squeal was heard from the door. I turned my head in the direction of the sound and frowned when the lady from the other night stood by the door, her face pale and wild with fear. I could see it in her eyes. Not only fear. Pain and a hint of sadness. I could not only see it, I could feel every single emotion she felt, digging right through my chest. My wolf began clawing it's way out, trying to take over. I could feel it's irritation as it fought for dominance. "Fúcking me! What is she doing here?!" I growled.

25 / 47 Kayo pockets one shard “for interest.” It still ends up in my bloodstone five seconds later. Team 4 – Superior Bathhouse Cellar (Al, Frankie, and the ghost mob) Ghosts can’t be reflected. The sorcerer never stood a chance. Tommy guns made of pure memory chew through his wards. Three more shards. 28 / 47 Team 5 – Maurice Catacombs (Rowan Vale solo) Rowan doesn’t fight. He just walks in, says one word in a language older than Shambhala, and the sorcerer drops to his knees weeping.

They all stopped meowing at once. The place that was filled with hellish crying earlier suddenly became dead silent. The huge contrast was tough to get used to. “Did… Did something come out from the blood pool?” Maya asked with a tone of uncertainty. Alex nodded. “Yes!” “Is there really something? What is it?” Anna asked. “It’s a female ghost! I thought Mr. Hanson was a more humane member of the Blood Cult who only used cat blood but not human blood. It seems like I overestimated him. Quite a number of people had died in this blood pool!” Alex said.