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Paul was my butler. I pulled my hand away and turned to leave with Chloe's urn. Then something slammed into my back. Pain shot through me. I lost my balance and crashed to the ground. The urn slipped from my hands. "No!" I lunged for it. But before I could reach it, a foot kicked it away. "Bad woman! You bullied my mommy! I hate you!" David. The urn hit the ground. The lid popped off. Ashes scattered everywhere. My heart stopped.

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.

But your mother's about to die—I know you'll show up. Her words jolted me back to reality. I pressed a hand to my chest, where my heart ached with a dull, numbing pain. How I wished I could tell her myself. That I've been here all along. It's just that... I've been dead for four years.

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!"

The remnants of someone’s bedroom that was long forgotten about crashed around us. We screamed in terror. I was beginning to fear the house was going to fall down on us. We continued to hear the sound of slamming and fighting happening through the house. I was clawing at everything to try and find an escape. Out of nowhere, a book dropped in my lap. It was old. It looked like it used to be cream colored with purple lace. This matches Gabrielle’s style. I saw a key lock. Suddenly, a key dropped from the binding of the book. It was a diary of some kind. I think Gabrielle’s spirit or someone wants me to have this. I shoved it into my bag and peaked out the door. I could tell it was still not s

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!”

“I’m sorry, Liam. I don’t know how to sense them because I’ve never seen a ghoul before.” “Damn it,” Liam mutters under his breath, tightening his grip on my shoulder. “We need to get out of here. Fast.” Before I can even process what Liam is saying, the ghouls appear out of nowhere. Their ghostly figures seem to appear and disappear almost like a mirage, and their shrieking fills the air. Fear takes over me, especially when I hear a voice inside of my head say, ‘Purple-eyed wolf. I want to feast on your blood and take your powers!’

Leon panted, scanning the dim corridor as his breath came in uneven bursts. Suddenly, a faint figure emerged out of the shadows—the female ghost. Her face was blurred and indistinct, her presence otherworldly. She didn’t speak but raised a hand that glowed faintly blue, pointing silently in a specific direction. Leon froze, instinctively stepping back half a pace. But time was slipping through his fingers, and hesitation was a luxury he couldn’t afford. Clenching his jaw, he forced himself to follow the ghost’s lead.

“This is between you and me. So, let’s settle it, Denis.” Ghost’s eyes narrowed and his face warped into a twisted mask of anger and indignation. “Denis died a long time ago. My name is Ghost.” He walked forward and put his gun right against Will’s forehead. The girls yelped in fear at the sudden movement. Alex and Spencer were rigid as terror gripped them as well. “And I am here to haunt you.” It happened in slow motion. Ghost’s arm moved from Will towards Emma his finger tightening even more around the trigger.

"Wait. I need to know. Why did, uhm, whatever, carelessly pick me?" "Go back." The woman wasn't paying her any attention. She kept on plucking cowries and attaching them to her head. "What is he? Oh, don't answer that one. He's a ghost. I know that. Why is he in that state? No, no, why can I see him? Why can l feel his touch, ghosts can't do that, can they? What does he need me for?" The old woman stopped her scaly hands from further movements and stared directly at Geneva through her foggy eyes that obviously saw clearly.