Novel & Cerita Ghost Books For Adults

The one with the specific and very intelligent questions. The Ghost Market was a market that I bet you won't believe. It was deep underground and so hidden that not even a whisper could be heard from it. The air was thick with old exhaust smoke from diesel engines. The whole place was so archaic and barbaric. A few hundreds of people moved through the space, and you don't know who is who here. You don't ask such questions, but I recognized some of them, brokers, killers, hackers, government agents, all hidden in anonymity.

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.

The ghost asked casually, while appearing to be pacing the floor. "What? Like the human who turns into a giant man-wolf during a full moon?" Miranda demanded, but she didn't let the ghost answer, "yeah I've heard about it. So much so that people write books about young girls falling in love with them, and those books have so much smut, its ridiculous." Miranda laughed. It was now the ghost's turn to send Miranda a deadpan look. "What?" Miranda asked when she noticed the look. "And what do you think of vampires?" The ghost continued to quiz.

“The question is if it really matters.” I joined Brett’s surprise at her words. She smiled. “There’s a lot of debate around what ghosts actually are. Are they what’s left of a person’s energy or are they actual souls? If they’re souls, it makes sense to hurry to help them move on. But I’m inclined to agree with my mentor’s theory, that they’re the remaining of people’s egos, not their soul.” “You lost me,” I said.

But few knew he harbored a secret capable of upending the entire arcane world. A burning candle stood before him. Yet the scent it released was strange—eerily similar to the Ghost Candles found in Willowstead. Spirits were drawn to the scent of Ghost Candles. When unable to feed on living souls, they relied on this incense to remain aware. Without it, they would drift into believing they were dead. It was no longer clear whether Sylas was a man or a ghost. He sniffed the candle's fragrance hungrily, as if his very life depended on it.

Will began to ask. “How did I get so close?” Ghost finished. “Without anyone noticing. Hmm…” he used the gun to scratch his temple for a moment and then pointed it back at them. “I’m the monster in the dark. The one under your bed. The one your parents warn you about. Oh wait… your parents wouldn’t warn you about anything. They’ve been trying to sacrifice you to the darkness for years,” he said with feigned contrition. “What do you want?” Will asked. His eyes darted around, looking for the captain or any signs of the security he promised them. But there was no movement.

The host chuckled, masking a hint of envy in her voice. "Welcome to 81.9 GistFM, I'm Aaaa-manda, and we're ready to delve into something spooky today. Though Halloween isn't here yet, we'll be discussing the supernatural, including Vampires, Werewolves, Ghosts, and even Witches. If young ones are tuned in, you might want to switch off the radio. But first, let's get down to business - do you believe in these supernatural entities? Miranda halted.

And now, when we met again, I was already bones in the ground—and she had become a powerful, influential billionaire. But Nicky was sick. And she needed me. So she came looking for me—the man she hated with every fiber of her being—and unleashed her vengeance on everyone I loved. But I was already dead. Suddenly, Adeline's cold voice cut through my thoughts, pulling me back. "If Samuel won't show himself, I'll just have to turn up the pressure." My stilled heart lurched. The next instant, Adeline gave the order. Her men swarmed my elderly father and hanged him alive—right there, in front of my grave.

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.

There was fresh blood on the floor, but the animal didn't react. I took a shaky step forward, my heart hammering against my ribs. The wolf didn't turn. I walked closer, standing five feet away and holding my bleeding hand out. Nothing. I walked until I was standing right next to the bars, inches from the cold metal. The wolf threw itself at the cage again, trying to get to Declan. Its claws sparked against the iron. It ignored me completely. I was invisible. "You really are a Ghost," Declan said softly. He walked up beside me. He raised the knife again and sliced his own palm.