Ghost Book Online Novels & Stories

He had a story, and he would need help from the Blue Moon’s magic with that story. Jody had long ago learnt just to accept Gabriella’s hunches and stories. She always seemed to know what people needed and how the magic would have its way with a guest. Finally, but not least, there was a Greta Johansen coming. She was a ghost hunter and wanted to come to explore the hauntings of Evergreen Grove’s little hamlet.

Leah lunged forward. “Stop! Don’t touch him! He’s still here, I know he is!” “Ma’am,” the doctor said gently, “his heart stopped. There’s nothing left we can do.” Ghost suddenly stepped forward. His voice was low, rough, but steady. “You’re wrong.” The doctor blinked. “Excuse me?” “You heard me,” Ghost snapped. “You’re wrong. He’s not gone.” “Son,” another doctor started, his voice soft, “I know this is hard, but—”

“This is between you and me. So, let’s settle it, Denis.” Ghost’s eyes narrowed and his face warped into a twisted mask of anger and indignation. “Denis died a long time ago. My name is Ghost.” He walked forward and put his gun right against Will’s forehead. The girls yelped in fear at the sudden movement. Alex and Spencer were rigid as terror gripped them as well. “And I am here to haunt you.” It happened in slow motion. Ghost’s arm moved from Will towards Emma his finger tightening even more around the trigger.

Those who had discovered the truth were swiftly silenced, their secrets dying with them. The rumors about The Ghost were the stuff of criminal legend. They said he could walk through walls, that he had spies in every major organization, that he could make people disappear without a trace. Some said he wasn't human at all, but a vengeful spirit who had returned from the dead to punish the wicked. Victor did nothing to discourage these tales—in fact, he cultivated them.

In the moonlight, a woman in a white lace dress was kneeling on the stone steps of the chapel, her face buried in her hands, her shoulders trembling. She had no feet. Below her dress, there was only a swirling black mist. "I see her." Lorenzo let out a low whistle. "Two years ago, Marco put her in the ground right there. Her ashes are buried under the rose bushes behind the chapel." I didn't stop, walking straight toward the chapel. Giovanni froze behind me but didn't dare to call out. As I reached the bottom of the steps, the female ghost's head snapped up. She lunged at me, her face a sickly pale green, her eye sockets empty black pits.

"Wait. I need to know. Why did, uhm, whatever, carelessly pick me?" "Go back." The woman wasn't paying her any attention. She kept on plucking cowries and attaching them to her head. "What is he? Oh, don't answer that one. He's a ghost. I know that. Why is he in that state? No, no, why can I see him? Why can l feel his touch, ghosts can't do that, can they? What does he need me for?" The old woman stopped her scaly hands from further movements and stared directly at Geneva through her foggy eyes that obviously saw clearly.

Everyone Zoe met, she would tell them, “I had someone read her fortune. Maisie’s future is cursed. She’s sickly. Stay away from her.” I clenched my teeth and propped myself up despite being weak and feverish. I went to see the fortune teller who had read my fortune in my previous life. After hearing the full story, he told me that there was definitely something I had not noticed yet, and I needed to go back and search carefully. I had no choice, so I dug through every gift Zoe had ever given me, but I found nothing.

I reached out and pressed the radio button on the steering wheel. My voice was cold, cutting through the static. "Mason Vale, do you see a ghost in your mirror?" I said coldly into the radio. Those words pierced straight through Mason's last line of composure. His car hesitated for an obvious instant on the straight. Now. I smashed the throttle down. The car tore through the air and pulled alongside him. Ahead was a chain of fast S-curves. Seeing that I was about to pass, a vicious look flashed through Mason's eyes.

Paul was my butler. I pulled my hand away and turned to leave with Chloe's urn. Then something slammed into my back. Pain shot through me. I lost my balance and crashed to the ground. The urn slipped from my hands. "No!" I lunged for it. But before I could reach it, a foot kicked it away. "Bad woman! You bullied my mommy! I hate you!" David. The urn hit the ground. The lid popped off. Ashes scattered everywhere. My heart stopped.

But your mother's about to die—I know you'll show up. Her words jolted me back to reality. I pressed a hand to my chest, where my heart ached with a dull, numbing pain. How I wished I could tell her myself. That I've been here all along. It's just that... I've been dead for four years.