Family Friendly Ghost Stories Novels & Stories

"I've just heard stories about it from the other kids in the neighborhood." "What kind of stories?" I asked. "Well, some of them say that it's haunted," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "They say that strange things happen there at night, and that sometimes you can see a ghostly figure in one of the windows." I raised an eyebrow. "Do you believe in ghosts, Jayden?" He shook his head. "No, not really. But the stories still scare me." I could understand why. Even as a grown man, the idea of a haunted house gave me chills. But I had a feeling there was more to the story than just spooky tales.

The maid made a gesture of silence to another maid. I stood at the door, dumbfounded. What were they just talking about? Did Ragnar’s fifth mate also see a female ghost at night? Did the ghost also demand the ring? And she was so terrified that she passed away on the spot? So everything I saw the previous night was real. Was there really a ghost haunting the Nightfang family?

I shrug. “People think the place contains psychic traces of ancient people and times. And there’s no end to the ghost stories. From a lady in a white hood who haunts Avebury Manor, to a rock that crosses the road at midnight. Sounds fun but it’s far from it.” I gaze into the kitchen corner then back at the camera. Bringing up ghosts makes me uneasy.

I can't live on the street or anywhere just because of that ghost. When we got home, what we saw there was Daddy and Mommy. We kissed them on their cheeks. I was hesitant if I will tell them what Josh had said. I don't know what that ghost can do, we might be like in movies. And one more thing, I'm not sure if they'll believe me. I might even be the mistaken madman. I just tried to focus on something else, but in the end, I failed. What I hear gave me a strange fear. I hear footsteps that terrifies me even though I know it was only created by the feet of my parents and brother.

"And I tell them stories." "What kind of stories?" Herb said. This was the part that had gotten him out of bed early on a Saturday morning (his only day off from selling mattresses the rest of the week) to come over here. Willie had mentioned stories when Herb got after him for being late coming home so often. It seemed they made quite an impression on the kid, but when Herb asked what kind of stories they were Willie clammed up. The Brookwood woman shrugged. "You know: ghost stories. The kind children like. Mostly ones my grandmother told me when this was her home. I could tell you one, if you like? So you'll see that they're not so bad."

I tried to calm her down. "I think it was villain X, Autumn. I think it was him. It has to be him!" She gave me a firm nod and licked her lips nervously. "Nah, I still think it was Casper. Who is Villain X anyway? The one from the X-files? Aliens are not real though ghosts pretty much are. I saw one when I was a kid, it did not look as cute as Casper but it was a ghost. I am sure of it. They can not get past a salt line you know, so I guess we should have salt in hand just in case the vengeful spirit is—"

Gentlemen and Ladies welcome to a world that apparently is very similar to yours. Here we have all the big cities and all the big states too. But we also have some things more, and it is not the dragons, vampires and werewolves you are thinking about. I am talking about the oddly things. Boys that never grow, invisible men, and cats in boots. You know which place all those figures appears. Welcome to fairy tales world, this is the antics of Bia's crew.

Cesare shrugged. - I've never really been interested. In general terms, there is such an ancient city. Somewhere far away in the woods, in the wilderness itself. According to one version, it is impossible to find a way there, according to another, on the contrary, you will not go back, the curse will not let go. Something like that. In short, somehow he is cunningly bewitched, so that it is dangerous for strangers to appear there. Well, as always, there are legends about countless treasures, sleeping beauties, artifacts that give eternal youth or power over the whole world. All nonsense. The boy twisted his lips contemptuously, showing with all his appearance that even in infancy he knew for

When I turned back around, I noticed a new note pinned to the table. It was the same familiar handwriting, but the strokes seemed to carry a hint of chill this time. "Squanderer." I froze, then started laughing out loud. So this ghost couldn't just cook—she was also a thrifty, budget-conscious woman. I liked that. I immediately grabbed a pen and wrote back, "Sorry, Ivy. I was just joking. From now on, let's stick to regular dishes. I won't bring up such ridiculous things anymore." I made sure to apologize sincerely.

“We’ve got a fucking ghost. Someone smart. Someone close. Someone careful.” And that, more than anything, was what terrified me. Because ghosts didn’t make noise. Ghosts slipped through cracks. Ghosts could sit beside you at dinner and laugh at your jokes and call you family while plotting your death. I looked up at him, my breath shaking. “Then I guess it’s time we start looking for ghosts.” And Zach, he didn’t smile. He just nodded once. Because if it was us or them? It wasn’t going to be us. Not this time. Not ever.