Ghost Books Novels & Stories

My magic hovered at my fingertips, ready to stop time at a moments— “Boo.” A scream ripped itself from me, cracking off the treetops. Damon and Ghost stepped from the shadows like two creeping grim reapers. Damon’s brows vanished into his hair, which hung over his forehead in sweat-damp waves, while Ghost grinned like a cat that got the cream. “Sorry,” he held his hands up. “I couldn’t resist.” “Fuck you.” I panted, then spun around only to find myself half a centimeter away from a distorted shadowy face. “AGH!”

"Wait." I suddenly stopped. Rica looked at me. I couldn't see her whole face. But her clear brown eyes reflected my bloody figure. "I just wanted to remind you that if you ever become a demon I wouldn't hesitate to offer you to the burned mansion. You know what they were interested in." Rica nodded. "I've heard rumors that there was a ghost market in the city. The famous burned house. " It looked like Rica had lived here in the dead's world for quite some time to hear of this rumor.

Then, I brought out a bottle of whiskey and finished everything in one go. I even placed an order of fresh pig's blood online. I'd read somewhere that ghosts were extremely afraid of pig's blood. And since I wasn't able to rid myself of Mabel's ghost, I would just go all out and fight her instead. I held the bowl of blood in my hands, feeling comforted by its presence. Then, I waited patiently in the living room for the ghost to appear again. Just as the clock struck 9:00 pm, all of the lights in the house went out all of a sudden.

And it seemed like they succeeded in establishing contact with her. The black clouds soon shrouded the sky leaving almost no star for stargazing. It was midnight now. Not to mention spirits get active at night only. This is what most people believed. According to them, ghosts get active at night. However, the question was ~ Why? The reason is because of the change in the senses of the people. During the daytime, people remain preoccupied with their work, distractions, conversations, routines that they don't even notice subtle happenings.

A cold dread, sharper than the chill in the air, shot up from the soles of my feet. The patch of shadow in the corner began to writhe unnaturally, coalescing into a denser form. A human silhouette, darker than the darkness around it, slowly detached itself from the wall. It was tall and gaunt, its entire form wreathed in an impenetrable, smoky blackness. The air grew still and heavy, as if the room itself was holding its breath. Then, a voice, cold and utterly devoid of emotion, sounded not in my ears, but directly in my mind.

] [Sonia Quindt's mystery fiancé disappears—Borevia City in chaos! [Proposal ends in heartbreak—what really happened?] I opened one. There she was—outside the Clerk's Office. White dress. Red roses. Face glowing with hope. The moment I used to dream about. My chest tightened, eyes burning. But no one stood beside her. Caption read: [This morning, CEO Sonia Quindt arrived at the County Clerk's Office in a wedding dress, waiting for her fiancé—who never showed. The scene went viral across Borevia City.]

I looked at her with a dubious look. “The dead don’t lie Katherine. These are flashes, ghosts whispering their own tales of memories from times past. It doesn’t necessarily mean that the ghost is directly here with us just, shadows of their memories. When something horrific, it imprints on the room or house in a negative way.” I was nodding in understanding of everything that she was saying. I knew a little about paranormal investigation. I watch Ghost Hunters and The Dead Files. “Something really bad happened here. The memories of that event are stained into this place. I don’t think it was in this room though.”

The light illuminated the space, full of old objects and stacked boxes. As she walked, a loose floorboard creaked beneath her feet. She bent down to see what it was and, with some effort, lifted the board. She found an old book, covered in dust, with a leather cover filled with drawings of supernatural creatures. Scarlett’s heart began to race; something about the book drew her in, as if it held secrets waiting to be discovered.

Every step tightened the pressure behind his sternum, pulling him deeper. “You always hated this place,” Vex’s voice echoed suddenly, smooth and amused. “Said it smelt like ghosts.” Riven stopped. The voice came from everywhere and nowhere—reverberating through tunnels, bleeding through walls. “Funny thing,” Vex continued. “Turns out ghosts don’t leave. They just change shape.” Riven’s jaw set. “Show yourself.” Laughter rippled through the dark. Lights flickered to life one by one, revealing a massive junction chamber ahead—old control panels, broken signal boards, and cables hanging like exposed veins.

She radiated a terrifying presence. However, there was a problem. Eliza, a famous ghost from the fog-shrouded city of Blackmoor, already dominated the long-haired ghoul archetype. Viewers would automatically compare this ghost to Eliza and dismiss her as ordinary, leaving her perpetually at the bottom of the NPC popularity rankings.