Ghost Messenger Novels & Stories

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 only other people who knew who he was, were Gunn and the triplets. "I'm Aaron Muron, many of you may know me as Ghost. I'm the godfather of the mafia. The founder of Muron Springs." The room broke out in shocked gasps and whispers. Fear settled on their faces as they watched him, wondering what his next move would be. As the story goes, whoever saw Ghost, didn't live to tell the tale. "I want to enter a partnership with you all. This could be the start of something beautiful." He said, biting into his bottom lip.

She was still very much surprised he had replied. “I'm really surprised you replied.” She typed and sent. Two minutes later, there was no response. She waited for five minutes and there was still no reply. Ten minutes passed, he was online but there was no reply. She dropped her phone as her mood saddened. When she thought she could chat with him, he ghosted her text.

Rafaelle had a sullen look as he explained. “Before that, I got the trademark of who it was. It’s Ghost.” I rubbed my jaw at the information. Now it made sense why we were having difficulty tracking the phone calls in the beginning. No one had ever seen Ghost before but he was reputed to carry out any scheme without being traceable in the least. Hence, the name Ghost. The interesting part was that Ghost didn't work for anybody and only performed a one-time task. This meant Gaetano was paying him millions to keep him around for longer.

The Ghost. The hacker who had been messing with them. The one who sent the files about the 2018 fire. He looked younger than Eli expected maybe late twenties with sharp features, messy dark hair, and eyes that seemed to see too much. “You’re awake,” The Ghost said. His voice was calm, almost friendly. “Good. I was starting to worry the chloroform was too strong.” Eli pulled harder against the chains. The metal dug into his wrists. “Who are you? Why did you take me?”

This feels lighter, automatic—like stepping where the ground has already been mapped. They call me Ghost. It simplifies things. Ghosts don’t leave witnesses. Or questions. Or pieces of themselves behind. Conversation thins as I pass. People shift their feet. I registered the looks without meeting them. Curiosity from the younger ones. Calculation from the handlers. And something closer to superstition from everyone else. I am twenty-two years old. I’ve been killing since I was fourteen. The numbers don’t settle into pride or shame. They sit like inventory. A medic steps aside as I pass. His eyes drop to the insignia stitched inside my collar—black thread on gray. Ghost-class comes without ra

Like a Hollywood actor but with the muscles of a guy that lives in the gym. “That one is Ghost,” Jonas says, and I frown, repeating the name. Jonas laughs, and Ghost shakes his head, only looking at me through the rearview mirror for a split second. “Hi darling, it’s a pleasure to finally meet you,” he says, winking and looking at me again for a split second.

“Bro?” “Yes?” “What about our car? What if it gets stolen?” “By who?” Casey laughs, “a ghost?” she sarcastically remarks. “Do not worry about that. I got Ghost on standby.” “Who is the ghost?” Says Casey with curiosity. “It is someone who has access to the universe!” “Oh,” says Casey, confused, “do you mean like a black hat hacker?” Surprised, Joshua looks over at Tiffany, “what do you know about hackers?” “Nothing. I just heard about them on the news. Some people are being called anonymous.”

she slurred, her voice thick and husky. Hacker looked up from his computer, a hint of surprise on his face. "What are you talking about and why are you in my room, Ghost?" Ghost swayed closer, her eyes locked on his. "Don't play dumb with me, Hacker. I know you've been avoiding me. But why?" Hacker shook his head, his eyes darting away from hers. "I don't know what you're talking about, Ghost. I've just been busy." She laughed, a husky sound that sent a shiver down Hacker's spine. "Busy? You're always busy when I try to talk to you. But I know the truth."

Then, without a second thought, he joined her in the water, slashing at his own wrist. As the blood mixed with the water, Grayson's vision blurred. In his final moments, he saw me—there, standing at the edge of the bathtub. His face lit up with a wild, desperate joy as he tried to stagger toward me, calling my name. "Honey," he cried, his voice full of longing. I stared at him, my eyes cold and distant, a disgust so sharp it cut through everything. "I'm not your honey," I said. "Not in this life, not in the next, not in any life to come. Not ever."