Ghost Hunt Book Novels & Stories

I reached out and pressed the radio button on the steering wheel. My voice was cold, cutting through the static. "Mason Vale, do you see a ghost in your mirror?" I said coldly into the radio. Those words pierced straight through Mason's last line of composure. His car hesitated for an obvious instant on the straight. Now. I smashed the throttle down. The car tore through the air and pulled alongside him. Ahead was a chain of fast S-curves. Seeing that I was about to pass, a vicious look flashed through Mason's eyes.

But none of them are what I need. Exhaustion stretches its fingers through me. I rub my eyes, dragging my palms over my face. I haven’t slept since before the claiming, and even then, it was more surrender than rest. But I can’t stop. Not yet. Not until I find something that will help Khael. My hand grazes another book tucked behind the larger volumes. It’s thin. Bound in dark blue fabric. No title. I slide it free. The first page contains only a title: The Curse of Hucow Hollow.

Zeke called down. I climbed back up. “There’s a chest and this weird book, I don’t know. But nothing is in the book.” “The cover says Ghost Stories.” Wyatt pointed out. I swear the cover was blank before. I sighed and handed it off to Hunter. “It must be enchanted or something.” Hunter opened the book. “Who is Captain Rowell ‘The Cruel” Swale?” “I don’t know,” I answered. “Why?” “There’s a story in here about him.”

My breath falters once. I don’t know the name. That should be enough. I steady my breathing and listen. Nothing outside but wind through the trees. Still, I step back. Ghosts don’t keep personal items. They don’t have pasts that can be written down. I open the cover just enough to see the first page. My name is there. Written in a hand I don’t recognize. Footsteps approach. I snap the book shut as the door handle turns.

Without my knowledge, the book slipped out of my hand and I looked down at the book like I'm facing the real ghost and the sentence read, "...eyes, pale skin human." I desperately need to find the missing 30 pages. Damn!! Those 30 pages could have everything about the Heil!!!! *

When I stepped into the hall, Jason caught my arm. “Aria....” “I’m going to the library,” I said. “There’s a book. In the restricted wing. On Binding Hungry Spirits.” He stared at me. “You can barely walk.” “I can remember,” I said. “And that’s enough.” The library was empty. I found the book hidden behind a false panel, its pages brittle, ink faded to rust. It spoke of the Hollow Revenant: born from the first soul denied burial, bound by blood-oaths, sustained by external animus.

Everyone Zoe met, she would tell them, “I had someone read her fortune. Maisie’s future is cursed. She’s sickly. Stay away from her.” I clenched my teeth and propped myself up despite being weak and feverish. I went to see the fortune teller who had read my fortune in my previous life. After hearing the full story, he told me that there was definitely something I had not noticed yet, and I needed to go back and search carefully. I had no choice, so I dug through every gift Zoe had ever given me, but I found nothing.

Nice porch with a rocking chair and a hammock on it. But just inside I noticed her. Kamari. Her hair was tucked back behind an ear. Feet propped up on the arm of the couch whilst she aimlessly leafed through a book. The title was a dark choice but one I had read before. The Haunting of Hill House. A twisted book that made you catch your breath at every turn. Behind her was the kitchen. Her father was standing there, kneading from what I could see. Nolan had only mentioned her address once. When he thought she would come here or to the cafe. I never realized I knew it by heart.

Southampton Meg had expected a visit from the monster the night she told her mother, but remarkably, that didn’t happen. In fact, she had heard him come up the stairs late that night, heard her mother’s footsteps in the hallway, and then heard a series of loud banging noises and doors slamming from the other end of the house. Though their home was quite sizable, it wasn’t so large that she couldn’t surmise that her mother and uncle must be having it out about something. Meg was hopeful that, despite her initial reaction, her mother was both shocked and dismayed at what her uncle had been doing to her. She was not brave enough to get her hopes up entirely, but she was at least hopeful—and tha

Boiler rooms had always seemed suspicious to me and having a monster lurking down there didn't make it any better at that moment. I looked at Reese, who was watching the darkness, but relaxed. Suddenly the same sounds came from his coat pocket with which he had already lured the Spuma to the Grim Reaper. Then everything happened very quickly. A scratch on the stairs, something big and blue rushed into the corridor, heading straight for Reese. The emerging growl was interrupted by a bang. It didn't yelp or make any other noise as it fell to the ground and slid right up to Reese's feet. It was just dead. As suddenly as it appeared, so suddenly its life had come to an end.