Freaky Ghost Mga Nobela at Kwento

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.

“How do we kill this psychotic, power-draining, soul-sucking mummy? Like, for good. Ashes-to-ashes, no-sequels kinda deal.” Charlie stared at her. “Did you just ask me how to permanently kill someone who is technically already dead?” She nodded. “I did.” He sighed deeply. “You people are so exhausting.” “I think that’s a yes,” Tora quipped. Chelsea arched a brow. “So... is there a spell? A ritual? Do we need a unicorn horn and three drops of phoenix tears or what?” Charlie waved her off. “No unicorns. They’re prissy and full of themselves.”

I’m watching a movie to calm my nerves, but that does nothing to ease the fear when lightning strikes, followed by a hair-raising rumble of thunder. The doorbell rings, making me shrink to the end of the couch, even though ghosts can’t appear in real life. That only happens in movies, and they are never polite enough to ring the doorbell. Why would they, when they can float right through the wall? Yet the incessant doorbell continues, making me cover my head with the fleece blanket. The distant ringing of my phone brings me back to earth. When I see his name flashing on the screen, I’m filled with relief.

I followed, keeping close to the wall and the shadows, stopping just before the door frame. It was quiet for a moment, almost too quiet until Freya broke the silence with a shriek. “Mother!” She squealed, and the sound of the bed creaked as Freya flew into her mother’s arms. “What’s wrong?” “Mother, it was horrible! I saw father’s ghost-“ Vivian quickly shut Freya up with a harsh, cold, “What?” It was quiet again for a few moments, but I didn’t dare to peek my head around the corner to see what was happening.

I was gone, and it wasn't as though they could speak ill of me now, not while my body was being buried in the ground. Even my mother-in-law came. She was already a frail, tiny woman, but seeing her there made her appear decades older. Grayson knelt before my gravestone, convinced he was performing some act of atonement. But to me, his presence was nothing more than repulsive. After the funeral, he returned to the small apartment. Alice, starved for three days, lay there, barely clinging to life. The moment she saw Grayson, fear overtook her—a fear she couldn't hide.

I gave up, wondering how I could find the answers I needed. Trisha. Her name popped up in my mind like a neon sign. I checked the time. Yeah, she should be already awake from her usual Saturday night parties. I was about to call her when I wondered how much I should tell her. As little as possible, I decided, and dialed her. Trisha’s always been a little weird on the spooky side, and lucky me, I only needed to tell her I was curious about communication with ghosts for her to recommend several YouTube channels about ghost hunting.

Pascal frowned and wondered if this was the doing of Ghost. Despite the eerie presence of the ghost, Pascal pressed on, determined to find Katie. He briskly walked around, taking deep breaths to catch her scent. Suddenly, a blood-curdling scream pierced through the air, causing him to stop in his tracks. "Help!" the voice cried out. Pascal's heart raced as he tried to locate the source of the distress call.

I guess we are due for it. Zane and I are heading to a club in the city. It’s a very popular supernatural club, but it’s also a trendy human club. It’s one of the few places where supernaturals and humans can mingle in peace. Zane knows the owner. Apparently, Ghost, yes, his name is fucking Ghost, and no, he isn’t actually a ghost, stupid. Anyway, Ghost is a dark fae who owns the club. He's a sleazy dude who likes slightly crazy women. I’m slightly crazy, so I will be a little flirty, gag. I don’t want to flirt with this loser, and Zane isn’t thrilled either, but if Ghost thinks I’m interested in him, then we have a better chance of getting information or keeping him distracted so Zane can w

77 in cash. The ghost story doesn't end. It just multiplies.

Harper sat frozen in the center of the massive four-poster bed, her heart hammering like a drum solo in her chest. The flashlight lay dead beside her, and the room was bathed only in pale moonlight filtering through cracked windows. “Okay, ghosts,” she said, forcing her voice to stay steady and dripping with sarcasm even as invisible hands continued their bold exploration of her body. “If you’re going to feel me up like this, at least buy me dinner first. I have standards. I’m not a cheap haunt.”