Ghost Next Door Novels & Stories

Samira lived on the third floor of an ageing apartment complex with paint chipped hallways, buzzing fluorescent lights, and paper thin walls that turned every private moment into public background noise. She moved in a month ago to a new start, new city, new heartbreak. Her neighbour in the next unit never introduced himself. No mail slipped under his door. No friendly hellos. No shoes outside. He was a ghost. Except at night. Late night. When the world was quiet and she lay curled under her comforter, scrolling erotica forums with one hand under her shirt that’s when she heard him.

Piece by piece, a dark doorway began to form on the floor before me. And then the mechanical voice rang out cheerfully in my ear: 【Congratulations, player Nina. You’ve earned the affection of all residents of “The Happy Home” and successfully summoned the Gate to the Otherworld. 【The Gate will appear tonight at 11 p.m. Surviving players, bring your families and gather on the first floor to open it. 【Anyone who misses the time will be permanently trapped within this instance.】 The live chat went wild—

Seras takes one look at me and her eyes go full orange. Seras: “Who do I need to burn?” Celeste (hoarse laugh): “Myself, apparently.” Kayo’s tails flicker visible for half a second. Kayo (soft, dangerous): “The Forty-Eighth made contact.” Not a question. We don’t go home. We go downstairs. The Ohio Club basement is packed even at 2 a.m. Ghosts part like water when they see my face. Al Capone is behind the bar, polishing a glass that doesn’t exist.

Steve nods at me as if to say hi but just keeps walking, still talking with my friends, passing me, like I don’t matter at all. … I’m sitting on my porch swing when I hear a car pull in the driveway next door. I keep my back to the house, hoping if I do, they’ll just disappear. “Hola, Emily!” Brenda calls from next door. It’s not her fault her son is a jerk, so I figure I don’t have an excuse not to reply to her.

I close your bedroom door. Finally, peace. …until 4:07 AM, when I hear a tiny voice from downstairs: “Madam?” I yell: “WHAT.” “Where do we keep the cleaning supplies?” " What the fuck did I told u about not disturbing my peace and niggas u lived here for centuries how m I suppose to know u useless creatures." There is a very long silence downstairs. Then the older ghost whispers: “...She has a point.” The other one whispers back: “Don't answer her.”

When Rachel heard me say that, she let out a cold laugh. "Defendant, is your son some kind of irresistible catch? Does my client, Daisy, have nothing better to do than rush to ruin her own purity just to frame him?" Daisy immediately echoed her. "I really did see Lucas. When I was heading to tutoring, I happened to see him coming out of his apartment. We took the elevator down together. He told me his name was Lucas Cole and that he was a newly moved-in neighbor."

It was plain brown, but the weight of it was significant, and the shipping label was stark, black, and expensive-looking. The address, however, was wrong. It read "Apt 3B," but he was in 3A. The name printed in bold, elegant font was "M. Thorne." Leo had lived in the Oakwood Gardens apartment complex for two years and had never met his neighbor in 3B. He’d only ever heard the faint, deep thrum of a bass guitar late at night and seen the occasional sliver of light under the door. The neighbor was a ghost, a nocturnal creature whose existence was marked only by silence and shadow.

she says. “ Okay, your date of birth is the password of my phone,” he said relaxing his body on the chair. “ How did you know my date of birth? We had something like a flash marriage, Ok what is my date of birth? If you know that and trust me you will get a BJ. For that” she says. “ 8th of July 1999” he says. “ What? How did you know that, do you have some superpowers? She asked.

A few minutes later, we’re in a cab heading toward the address. I sit quietly, holding the paper in my hand. My mind is running through different thoughts. What kind of people pay this much? Why is it so private? What if I mess up? The car slows down eventually. Then stops. I look up. And freeze…I literally freeze in a spot looming like I have seen a ghost. The house in front of me is huge. Not just big. Huge. Tall white walls. Wide gates, I bet no man would be opening and closing this everyday it must be a remote controlled kind of gate.

She hesitated to open it. The last time such a thing happened, Ethan appeared in her life. Adding another layer of mystery in her life. After looking at it for a minute, she sighed heavily and clicked on the message. “Ghost accounts, ghost money. Do you want to know who else is involved… meet me tomorrow. 6PM. Café Solace. Come alone.” Her breath caught in her throat. It was yet another mystery person and another secret to unveil.