Booktok Ghost Face Novels & Stories

Even so, he’d refused to dismount until she was taken away. He’d hoped to have a clearer idea of just what was happening to the cook’s boss as he entered the camp, but he couldn’t move past the pain and sorrow of the spirits that haunted it. That’s why he decided to purify them and send them on their way. Only then would he have a clear channel to the evil that was destroying the man they called Ian. Now, seeing the naked demon woman fighting the flames to get to them, he understood. He was dealing with a demon succubus, not a restless spirit. Demons are often attracted to the darkness of locations where mass death and trauma took place.

Zeke called down. I climbed back up. “There’s a chest and this weird book, I don’t know. But nothing is in the book.” “The cover says Ghost Stories.” Wyatt pointed out. I swear the cover was blank before. I sighed and handed it off to Hunter. “It must be enchanted or something.” Hunter opened the book. “Who is Captain Rowell ‘The Cruel” Swale?” “I don’t know,” I answered. “Why?” “There’s a story in here about him.”

In anger and rage, his eyes turned completely red and he disappeared from everyone's sight with the speed of light. "Have you found that thing for which you came here?" Moroi Ace Denzell stood behind Ms. Anastasia and said in a low voice, "It's very rude. Don't steal like this when the family is not in the house. Very bad manners." Hearing his voice, Ms. Anastasia got scared, and the book fell from her hands. "Hey, you are faster than I thought," he picked up the book that fell on the ground and read the name of the book in a loud voice. "Exorcism: Eldritch Werewolves by Witch Rosaline."

“Sera?” Kael's voice pulled me out of my thoughts and I gasped, turning to see him staring at me, his forehead wrinkled. “Huh?” “Are you still here with me? Why do you look like you've seen a ghost?” My eyes darted down to the mark on the book again and I closed it hurriedly clearing my throat and masking whatever was on my face with a neutral expression. “I…I'm fine. The mark just seems strange that's all. I will go through the book later tonight but right now I have something to do.”

A cold dread, sharper than the chill in the air, shot up from the soles of my feet. The patch of shadow in the corner began to writhe unnaturally, coalescing into a denser form. A human silhouette, darker than the darkness around it, slowly detached itself from the wall. It was tall and gaunt, its entire form wreathed in an impenetrable, smoky blackness. The air grew still and heavy, as if the room itself was holding its breath. Then, a voice, cold and utterly devoid of emotion, sounded not in my ears, but directly in my mind.

I had no choice, so I dug through every gift Zoe had ever given me, but I found nothing. Just when I was about to give up, I shook a pillow, and a tiny paper figure floated out. Its face was drawn to resemble Lucas, and his birth details were written on the back! The fortune teller exclaimed, “That’s it! The lock and the paper figure work together, and since you've touched the lock, the effect on you is stronger. Luckily, you found it early.” I broke out in a cold sweat. That same day, I slipped the paper figure under Miles’ pillow and instructed my parents to watch him while he slept.

The Ghost. The hacker who had been messing with them. The one who sent the files about the 2018 fire. He looked younger than Eli expected maybe late twenties with sharp features, messy dark hair, and eyes that seemed to see too much. “You’re awake,” The Ghost said. His voice was calm, almost friendly. “Good. I was starting to worry the chloroform was too strong.” Eli pulled harder against the chains. The metal dug into his wrists. “Who are you? Why did you take me?”

Look, no seeds! Buried deep within that ghastly misshapen skull burned two eyes, searching, blazing out from beneath white fleshy hoods, with no eyebrows or facial hair whatsoever that might have served to break up the unadorned monotony of it. Richard clenched his teeth and grimaced. This was not The Wizard of Oz, oh no, he remembered thinking. Dear God, this was The Hills Have Eyes going on here, or maybe something worse. Then, as a sudden cold began to bloom in his testicles and rise, he saw the felled ghost-white figure lift one bony, livid hand . . . raise it and . . .

The people here turned to bitter herbs gathered under moonlight, faded talismans, or desperate prayers offered to indifferent gods. Yet even now, as the engine of their motorcycle sputtered into silence, the face of the lady ghost clawed its way back into Eloise’s mind. No matter how fiercely she willed it away, the image refused to dissolve: the sunken, coal-black eyes wide with malice, the skin stretched taut and gray like wet clay, the mouth twisted into a silent, accusatory scream.

i said, i was looking forward to what he was really going to say. "Do you know how is that possible? " he asked. "No i don't I'm confused too" i answered . "That means you have a ghost clone" he now revealed it. "what does that mean?" I asked again. 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.