Ghost Ex Novels & Stories

“We’re gonna teach this fucker a lesson.” I lowered the LED a few inches and spotted the disgusting thing crawling up the wall. I could try several paragraphs of description, and you will think I should’ve just said it looked like Gollum and save everybody time. So yeah, that’s what it looked like. “A crawler?” I said mockingly. “You fucking roach are the infamous Skippy?” The dark thing tried to sneak into the door to Quaker Hall basement, but I aimed my LED at the doorway, making it crawl back and up toward the ceiling.

"With everything that happened. Starting with me trying to go back to Boston, then realising I'm a ghost. I went back there and jumped into that empty grave, Trying to kill myself" "Wait wait wait." Austin interrupted her, smiling. "You knew you were a Ghost, and you tried to kill yourself " he raised his hands in apology, as he couldn't control his laughter. He saw she wasn't having any of it, and stopped laughing, but the smile on his face couldn't fade away.

Pure shook her head: “I still don’t know the meaning of that weird dream, but I know the baby is crossbred of the phoenix and the unicorn.” “ Crossbreed?”- Lowen muttered: “This is so weird… I mean this can’t happen, I think they will never let a crossbred baby be born.” Rojana agreed, he analyzed seriously: “Unicorn and Phoenix are neither friends nor enemies, so this can’t happen.” “I know that can’t happen, but let’s see, Pure is never wrong, or maybe she is getting weaker..”- Erono said. “You mean I am weaker?” “No no!” said Erono. But Pure didn’t care too much about him, she told everyone to come to the meeting room, and wait for the others.

The scene went viral across Borevia City. I stared at it, torn between guilt and something colder. Could almost see her face—hope fading to anger, then to blame. She was probably furious. Probably calling me heartless. But she'd never think about what those hundred rejections did to me. Good thing I don't care anymore. Not about her. Not about anyone. Just me. *** Hedley's resignation blew up Quindt Corp. No one knew he and Sonia were a thing, so the place went feral with gossip.

I sighed and prepared to microwave a box of macaroni and cheese. But when I turned around, I spotted a note pressed under something on the table. It was in Nathaniel’s familiar handwriting, though this time, his note held a hint of cold anger. [Wasteful.] I was stunned for a moment before I burst out laughing. This ghost was not just a good cook, but he was also thrifty and responsible. I liked that. I immediately picked up a pen and wrote back. [My bad, Nat. It’s just a joke. Let’s just stick to homemade food from now on. I won’t bring up that extravagant nonsense again, okay?]

“Got a contact in East Chinatown who watches magic fluctuations. I’ll follow the blood echoes.” “Keep it off-grid. If any of them catch scent of you—” “They won’t.” “They can’t.” Xalor’s laugh was sharp. “Relax, Perez. I’m a ghost’s ghost. Even Calix couldn’t trace me.” “Don’t say his name.” Silence. “Copy that,” he said. “You’ll get first update by morning.” He hung up. I stared at the screen for a long time. The city pulsed beyond my windshield.

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.

Chapter 22: The Echo of the Duke ​The creature in the doorway didn't have a face. It was a shifting mass of bronze gears and jagged glass, held together by a flickering white light that made the shadows in the basement scream. Every time a gear turned, the sound of a thousand ticking clocks filled my skull, making my vision blur. This was the "Time-Eater"—the physical manifestation of the memories Julian had traded away.

A thick stream of blood spilled onto the pavement. I stared, unable to look away, as more blood seeped from its nostrils before slowly escaping from the corners of its eyes. It was far darker than it should have been, almost black against the concrete, and every instinct I’d developed after years in emergency medicine told me I was looking at something that shouldn’t have been possible. “Naomi?” Emma’s voice cut through the silence. “Talk to me. What’s happening?” Emma’s voice crackled through the phone. “Naomi? Talk to me. What’s happening?”