Ghost In Train Novels & Stories

They were on the last train for the day, and it was also a rush hour,the two of them were crammed up against the window there. Gianna looked out the window, and suddenly, for a split second, her eyes glazed over! Scott's head was right in front of her, and she moved his head out of the way, desperately looking out. Scott murmured."What is it?" Gianna's face was horrified, "I think I just saw a ghost!" Scott frowned: "Are you kidding me?There's no such thing as ghosts." But Gianna was sure of what she saw. She saw someone who was supposed to be dead.

Maybe it was the fact that he was a ghost or it was just his deadly pale lips or his ashen body that made his whole face which lacked expression, deadly. How did he die? She wondered. She saw no injury to prove he was killed by a sharp object, broken bones to prove it was a fall or an accident, rotting flesh to prove it was by poisoning, bulging eyes and protruding tongue to prove it was by hanging -nothing. What then? This train of thought was stopped right in their tracks by the ghost's next words. "You're late," he said,"to our wedding."

Before she could reach him, nothing was left, just the stain of blood and memories. He was gone in both worlds. The machines beeped, and loud cries echoed. She had just killed someone. Slowly, the fog came, covering everything and everyone. The souls were dragged back to the station, waiting on the train to take them to their next stop. Willa couldn’t speak. Her eyes remained on the floor, and behind her, Elias followed like a guarding dog, too proud to comfort her and too concerned to leave her alone. As the train wiggled its pregnant self before them, the souls stepped in one after the other. Elias and Willa were the last to get on.

she mumbles softly cleaning off the tears cascading down her cheeks. "I don't remember doing anything to you. If it's about our night together then I'm sorry. It was never meant to happen. I lost control and even apologized before you suddenly disappeared." The female whirls and stares intently at him. "You told your friends to rape and murder me." "Me? You're a ghost?" He asks at once shivering. "Yes, I'm a ghost. And I'm here to kill you cause you are the only one remaining." "But I didn't do such. Please believe me."

The coincidence was just too much to be true. He took another look at the name on the ID card; with his imaginative eyes he slowly turned the name Heaven backwards and it appeared as Nevaeh. He has been sleeping with a ghost he concluded. There was no need to call a prophet to reveal it, even the blind will see and understand this. He needs to drive this thought away, make the pain and fear disappear, he needs to get drunk; so he ran away from the morgue and went to a beer parlour.

Eventually, we stopped at a station identified as Dartmoor. Salem alone came out of the train. Quickly, I ducked behind the train so that he wouldn’t see me when he darted into the air. I soon heard him kick off the platform, but I waited for the train to chug along a bit more before finally heading back into the skies myself. I glanced around—first at the sky, where Salem was now a tiny speck, then at the seemingly endless fields around me. As a mortal, I’d heard dreadful tales about this place: legends of bloodthirsty ghosts, headless horsemen, and vengeful pixies. They’d always felt impossible then, but if vampires and demons existed, who was I to say pixies didn’t?

“Hurry, Father. You must help Ian!” Adam steeled his nerves, took a deep breath, and forced his legs to take him across the hot, charred ground as fast as he could. He had to weave around a few spirits who were so opaque and dense that they could have easily passed as real people. He debated whether they were even aware of him as they moved aimlessly about in a zombie like manner.

I’ve seen him in the training grounds but he’s damn good at what he does so he never needed any one-to-one training. "Thanks, Ghost.” Gideon mutters, I don’t mean to laugh but that's exactly what happens. Ghost has to be one of the whitest men I’ve ever seen; his hair is practically white and his eyes have a sort of redness to them that can’t be natural so I can see why his momma called him Ghost but it's still a weird name. “It's a funnier name if you know that my momma has skin like sweet caramel sauce and my pops was blacker than the fuckin’ night sky.” Ghost smirks at me, he’s not offended by my laughing, which means he can take a joke.

"Madeline left. You stayed. She uses people as 'Data Nodes.' You use your power as a shield. If you were like her, we wouldn't be in a coal car in the middle of Pennsylvania. We’d be in a penthouse, and Leo would be a stranger to you." The Mechanical Ghost The train slowed as it began the long, grueling climb into the Allegheny Mountains. The air grew thinner and colder, the scent of pine needles fighting against the stench of diesel. Suddenly, the hard-wired radio in Ethan’s pocket hummed. It wasn't a voice. It was a frequency—a "Shadow-Pulse" that shouldn't have been able to reach them in the "Analog Dead Zone." Ethan pulled it out, his "piercing blue eyes" narrowing at the small LED scree

The way he had in the basement library, when he was trying to decide if he could trust me. "Ghost doesn't take money," he said. "He doesn't take favors. He takes pieces of people. Memories. Secrets. Things you can't get back." "Then we make sure we don't give him anything we can't afford to lose." --- The number on Miriam's card connected after two rings. A voice answered. Not male. Not female. Something in between. Processed through a modulator, scrambled beyond recognition. "You reached the line," the voice said. "State your business."