Freaky Ghost Novels & Stories

Episode 15 Warning~ this chapter contains strong language and adult words also sex words, if not comfortable you can skip Quincy I just got down from the cab and whole house looks silent and dark like a graveyard or something but I waved it off and made to open the food but to my surprise it wasn't locked and I couldn't have sworn I locked it this morning so I opened it "mom" I called hoping she was in but I got no reply then I switched on the light and behold I saw......"WHAT" I screamed and flinched in fear "SURPRISE" they screamed everyone was there like I mean everyone in school, the sitting room was all decorated with lots of balloons and ribbons and an happy birthday quincy was boldly

(4). Fear of the Unknown [When the dead comes back to life] . . Chapter 4: Creaks... . ~~Lyla Drew~~ I walked out of my room hurriedly shutting the door behind me. I’m not taking any chances. Walking downstairs, I paused hearing a creaky sound in the upstairs floorboard. Don’t think about it, Lyla. This house is old, it has creaks all the time. I assured myself while heading downstairs and then to the dining room where Klaus was already waiting for me.

Even if she did, she'd blame it on the wind. "Ghost?" Sharon was becoming concerned, "I thought you don't believe in such things?" "Really? Oh, em." Geneva cleared her throat and spoke confidently, "that's true, I am not scared by flimsy things such as ghooosts!" The last word Sharon heard was the word 'ghosts' being screamed into her eardrums before she heard nothing else. The phone had fallen and disassembled and the call, disconnected.

I made my way between the cars towards the back of the building. “You know this is a special night, don’t you?” Wisps of fake fog curled and puffed off the stage as he strutted back and forth. “Halloween. All Hallows? I can tell ya it means a lot more than just stuffing fun-size Snickers in your face. Tonight’s the night the world of the dead overlaps with the world of the living. That means if you’re ever going to see a ghost, tonight’s your night!

Shhh, and the big kid shut his mouth and went back to his work. Katie tried shaking the dizziness away, felt gooseflesh tingling all along her arms and scalp after the encounter: what she used to call frittles when she was a young child. Her head reeled. “Do you believe in ghosts?” came a voice from beside her, causing her to start. One of the students, a teenage girl, was standing there—small, ethereal, and fretful-looking, with retro purple hair. She pushed her rectangle rainbow glasses back up on her nose.

Amanda tried to copy her decency, she craned her neck, as she skimmed her carefully. Mercy tittered and gushed. “don’t worry I will teach you.” She crooned Angela could barely hear them, her eyes looked at the stairs, she barely paid attention at them. She waited for them eagerly. they walked in; Melina marched on her hounds making a sharp click-clack as they walked down the stairs. Mercy looked mortified as she spoke to them. ‘‘it’s my mom, she loves wearing hounds, you will get used to the sound.’’ Her face said it all; she was pissed with that atmosphere; it must be really eating her up.

Or was she just very far from it? She crawled slowly towards the open coffin and when she was almost close enough, she peeped into it and saw a- No, that was- No, no. She peeped again for a little bit longer to be sure of what she had seen earlier, and indeed it was what she had seen! What the-?! What is this... thing? An animal? A weird creature? A mutant? An animal mutated creature?! Black fog like the miasma following her earlier was coming out of its body and circulating it. It was like a dead human with the strangest appearance.

I cover a baking sheet with frozen chicken strips and French fries as Perry and Harper search for a movie to watch on the TV. Perry wants to put on Saw while Harper deems it too horrific. "I watched Halloween," he argues. "It's worse than Halloween." I agree, calling from the kitchen, "No Saw." Perry groans. "Look, there's Paranormal Activity." Harper points out. "You haven't seen that; it's about ghosts. You love ghosts, right?"

the voice wheezed, the sound of sandpaper on bone. The closet door swung wide, not pushed by a hand, but kicked open with a violent force that sent the wood splintering against the wall. The man stepped out. He was tall, gaunt, and dressed in rags that smelled of wet earth and ancient decay. His eyes were milky, sightless, yet they locked onto mine with a terrifying, supernatural precision. I didn't run. I couldn't. I was paralyzed, anchored to the floor as he took a step forward, his movements jerky and wrong, like a puppet on tangled strings.

I have so many unanswered questions about this mysterious assassin. I spent the next week preparing for the formal event while also gathering what I could about assassins that were known. None of the information told me anything. I got a few well-known female assassin names. The number one was Phantom Reaper, second was Blade of Bracken (named after this city, Bracken’s Rock), and third was simply Death. Not very original, that one. By evening, it’s time for me to attend this despicable gala to network and attempt to secure funding for my next research project. I dress sharply in a black tuxedo, my white dress shirt is crisp, and I wear a neatly knotted black tie. My hair is usually always a