Ghost Culture Novels & Stories

Alex grumbled and I hummed, "I'll appear before my father when the time is right." "What about Ginevra, how would she know?" He asked. "You don't worry your head about that one. She'll definitely find me." She was, after all, the smartest woman I had ever known. The Ghost will be dead by the break of dawn. The Ghost—Ricardo Sanchez will undergo a rebirth by the break of dawn. But even in my confidence, my heart still shuddered with questions. Would I truly be dead by the break of dawn, or would the universe be kind enough to grant me an opportunity at yet another life?

“I was in and out of sleep.” “Thoughts of Titanic?” He turned to face her now, and he was sitting more closely than she thought prudent. “Sometimes,” she shrugged. “Most of my ghosts reside elsewhere.” He closed his eyes and turned his head away. “I’m sorry, Meg.” “I don’t need your sympathy either,” she reminded him, though her tone was just as innocent as his had been. “I suppose not,” he admitted, turning back to face her. “But you have it just the same.”

She said, but the case was crystal clear. "No, am serious about this Henry needs your help." "Thats a lie." "No its true." "I believe her, she's telling the truth. That ghost still hasn't crossed over to the other side in almost three hundred years." Charles second said. "I agree. We must leave for Greenville." Another says. Melanie also agreed to know more. "The Star Gazers has tracked down a couple of ghosts and found them heading to the west. Normally I wouldn't suspect them, but none has crossed over to the other side and to top it all, Zonal Coordinators has gone missing."

I call ghost, he got more than one skill, and opening closed-door virtual and real ones are one of his many skills. He uses his key locks tools and messes with the door for a bit until it opens. Finally, I walk down with ghost behind me, I find a small girl laying naked on the floor. She's thin, too thin, her blond hair match mine only hers is dirty and matted on her head. Her blue eyes are hardly open, I can see bruises all over her fragile body. Taking off my shirt I cover her quickly and pick her up leaving this hell behind. "You're safe now baby sister" I whisper in her ears she closes her eyes letting darkness take her.

I take a deep breath and open the door, and step out into the hallway. I walk through and make my way to the dining hall. I pass pictures of the girls, both past and present. I stop looking at one in particular. The legend that was Ghost. Alessa Valentino. She is standing next to my grandma and a woman with baby pink curly hair, Candy. My grandma was younger back then. Ghost was a legend. She was found days after her parents were killed by the Bratva. Her aunty was the OG founder of the Mother’s Revenge, but as usual, not everything was as it seemed.

Then the rider lifted both hands. Not in surrender. With caution. Like someone approaching a wounded animal. Their voice came out distorted through a modulator. “Ghost,” they said softly. Everything inside me stilled. Only three people ever called me that. One was dead—Saint. One should’ve been dead—Shade. And the third… The third was an ally long buried in the dark. A ghost from my old life. The rider reached up and slowly—very slowly—removed their helmet. My breath caught.

He was dressed in the same white attire the Council members had been in, but unlike them, he had black hair which seemed to have grayed from age and eyes that looked to be ink black. “You should let go of that,” he said, and I turned to my gaze to find the ‘child’ I’d held unto was actually a rotten corpse with maggots falling off it. I shove away from it, wiping the grease on my hand on my pants. “I heard it speak,” “Yes. Down in the Forgotten Pits, when people die, their souls remain here as ghosts. There’s no escape from this place, not even in death.” I looked up at him, wondering if I was seeing things or if this man at least was real. He looked real enough.

"The dead don't whisper. But they do have secrets." Lucas held up the key. "The King thinks he's faking your death," Lucas whispered. "But the High Priest is already one step ahead. Do you know what happens when a True Blood is killed in the heart of the catacombs?" Noah looked at the key. He looked at the dark tunnels. "The ghost doesn't just leave," Lucas said. "He stays. Forever."

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.

I sat there for a long time, trying to digest everything. It turned out my ghost housemate used to be a legend at the company that I now worked at. I shut my laptop, my feelings all tangled up. I asked, "So, you're only stuck here because of the car accident… Is that it?" After a long silence, Ivy's voice echoed faintly in my head. It was soft and almost drifting. "It wasn't an accident." My heart lurched. Before I could ask anything else, her voice faded away.