Ghost Chapter Novels & Stories

Marcus, the quiet guy from accounting leaned against the door, arms crossed, with a bitter smirk twisting his lips. “McAllen,” he said. “You’ve been looking real happy lately. I see you enjoy your late night with the boss.” My stomach dropped. “What the hell are you talking about?” He stepped closer, I could see the jealousy in his eyes. “ I saw you leaving the private elevator. Looking like a man whose ass has taken some cock. You’re not the first, you know. The Ghost destroys anyone who tries to get close. You’re just the latest toy.” “The Ghost?” I laughed it off, but my voice sounded shaky even to me. “Sounds like some movie legend bullshit.”

But the fear that had been gnawing at her for days pushed her forward. She opened the book. The first pages were cold, filled with business notes and travel schedules. But as she flipped forward, the handwriting changed—it became jagged, frantic, and deeply personal. Her eyes landed on a single sentence near the end: Some ghosts don’t stay buried because they were never dead. A chill crept down her spine, turning her blood to ice. Before she could process the words, the lights throughout the estate flickered once, buzzed, and died. The house fell into absolute, suffocating darkness.

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.

She'd been right about Paoli. He was an honest-to-God blood sucking vampire. Not really alive, but not dead. He was undead. There was no telling how many innocent people he'd killed. Well, she wasn’t about to be added to his numbers. She jerked the gaudy silver cross from her pocket and shoved it against his forehead.

"When it comes to gossip, nothing gets past me." At 11:00 PM, an understated luxury car pulled up at the school gates. Helena and Howard got out. Celeste and I had already set up snacks and drinks at the reading pavilion, waiting for them to settle down. After they arrived, Celeste cleared her throat. "Helena, what I'm about to tell you might sound unbelievable, but you have to believe me. I'm not crazy." In about ten minutes, Celeste laid out everything about my shadow. I chipped in with details to make the story as airtight as possible, hoping to make it seem as real as we could.

The altar’s broken shape loomed behind them, cracked stone glowing with unnatural pulses. I gasped. Sarah’s hand found mine. Daniel crouched nearby, silver blade drawn. John’s torch flickered far ahead just a flame swallowed by shadows. David lay before the altar, unconscious. His mark glowed a violent red. The ghosts’ hunger pulsed toward him. Their chant deepened. A voice whispered in my mind, cold as frost: “He remembers. I remember. You belong.” I froze. Sarah tugged me back. “We have to move.” But the ghosts didn’t wait,they surged forward.

Blood covered the walls the night my best friend, Cody Colfax, was murdered. His body twisted and twitched before my eyes, like a fish out of water splashing around on a boardwalk without anyone to put him back. The possession of his body from the unknown source, the scientists call 'The Ghost,' has haunted the bystanders for weeks now. When we found him, his body was half-naked and covered in ashes. The hairs on his arms were fried by the electrical chords wrapped around his arms. The tattoos on his body were symbolic, otherworldly. The Ghost left them there to make their presence known.

His voice pulsates in excitement. At once a man appears in front of him out of no where, as soon as Benjamin opens the gates of the haunted house. "Do not go there. It is just an illusion." A man in a long coat with no limbs flying in air appeared in front of him. "It is the evil spirit which is calling you." He warned him. But Benjamin did not care for his words. On a trance he continued to walk ahead towards the mansion. "Our phones are dead. I need to call somebody for help. My wife is laying there unconscious." He points to his broken car.

But they all felt so fucking real. Jesus! The thought of having sex with a ghost made me sick all over. My stomach knotted as a full-blown terror took root. A fever ran down my body and my skin gallop with goose pimples. "Do you see her?" his question brought me back to reality. I nodded slowly. "So those times I see you talking to yourself, it is her you are talking to?" I motioned. "Jesus!" he exclaimed. "You need deliverance with serious prayers oh!"