Ghost Cry Novels & Stories

The laboratory didn’t just smell of chemicals; it tasted of ancient rot and artificial lightning. As the Ghost Wolves—those twitching, violet-veined abominations of my father’s desperate making—scrambled out of their shattered glass coffins, the temperature in the room plummeted. They didn’t move like the wolves of the Roux pack. There was no grace in their limbs, no ancestral intelligence in their eyes. They moved with a jerky, stop-motion horror, their bones snapping and resetting with every lunging step, as if their bodies were rejecting the very muscles that drove them forward.

Claire had a surprised expression on her face as she asked, “Mom, what’s wrong with you?” Elaine was extremely solemn as she said, “Let me tell you. Someone was killed by a ghost at the Mount Phoenix Cemetery last night! Even his brain was completely sucked out! It is said that he was bleeding out of his seven orifices when he died, and there was a big hole on the top of his head. As a result, his head turned out to be an empty shell with nothing inside at all!”

Marcus cast his eyes down as his shame covered him like a new winter’s coat. “ For now,Noah, please just trust me.” For a while after Noah left his room, Marcus stared up at the ceiling, feeling like the lowest form of life for lying to his best friend. How could he possibly explain to him that his dad and new girlfriend were being haunted by an ancient spirit, the same one who haunted his gran and her sister years before? “ Hello Marcus.” The voice which suddenly interrupted his thoughts, was melodious and familiar. Marcus looked to his side and by the light of the moon beaming through the window, he saw her.

He muttered and smiled a sad one before walking out of the room; then, I went close to my body to look at it intently. "I felt his touch. I felt my father's hand holding mine!" I let out when I noticed the four ghosts who just passed through the wall on my right. They must have seen my father walking into my room. One of my new ghost friends is Ericka, who got here three weeks ago because of a motorbike accident, and Lucinda, a middle-aged woman who got a heart attack a month ago. "Really?" Clinton asked in surprise and examined my physical body closely, and Dylan tried to touch my left barefoot.

as his hand in addition of the water moves on her clit and she closes her eyes in ecstasy and he smiles and move his finger in to her pussy and she moans out and he puts in a second finger and she throwaway her head back into the bath tub and she tightens her eyes and he puts his hand deeper into her and she moans her and he began to move his hand in and out of her and she held his hand for him not to stop and she began to moan loud and her husband smiles while she moan uncontrollably and she came and he washes her and he Carrie’s her a bridal style into the bedroom. Evelyn ghost returns into the house, she sob so hard. Evelyn mom sits beside her son and he wakes up feeling so much pain and

looking helpless as he lost the only thing that made him a god: his land. "You look like you're staring at a funeral," Silas rumbled, standing by the window. His silhouette appeared massive against the grey sky. "I am," I whispered. My voice was a dry rasp, like a dead leaf when crushed. "I'm watching the burial of the Crescent Alpha. I just didn't expect the scene to look so... boring, and ordinary…" My cough broke the silence, a deep, racking tremor that made my ribs feel like they were being snapped back one by one. I pressed a tissue to my mouth that quickly soaked in a dark, thick crimson. I didn't panic; that was for people who still had a future.

By the time Richard arrived, the funeral was almost over. Everyone who had come to say goodbye was gone. Only I remained. I wanted a little more time with Chloe. She'd always been clingy. And she was afraid of the dark. "Richard, see? I told you Selena was lying. If this were really a funeral, why is nobody here? This is obviously another stunt to get you to come home." Grace's voice cut through the silence. Richard's face darkened.

"Grace, honey, look at me. Look at Daddy. Close your eyes." "He says I can't, Daddy," Grace whispered. Her small body was rigid, her white eyes fixed on the empty space. "He says if I close my eyes, the dark will come back forever. He says he's the one who kept the 'Saints' alive." The Drama of the Heart: The Ghost in the Blood Jinyan stepped into the room, his boots crunching on the shattered glass of a picture frame. The temperature was dropping. He could see his own breath—a white plume of fear in the sapphire strobe light.