Ghost Next Door Novels & Stories

“It’s not me Alice, it’s Kirsten.” And indeed amid her panic, Kirsten just grabbed the nearest person to her; in this case it’s Alice. “Kirsten I can’t breathe…” “WHAT’S THAT?” Kirsten gasped behind Alice. “It’s the floor board Kirsten,” Don replied. “Oh,” said Kirsten. She releases Alice casually as if nothing happened. “Look Van there is a door here.” “We’re here Cara. This is the place where the noise is coming from,” Van answered. His friends eyed the mysterious door apprehensively. It looks meek and harmless on the outside, but even his friends who could not hear the strange noise could feel a strange form of energy coming from it.

I had to find a way to pay her back for that. And the opportunity came sooner than I expected. The next day, Joe and Lesley invited me to join them for a horror movie night. Tess mentioned she'd had a long day and just wanted to head to bed early, so she showered and went straight to the bedroom. That left just the three of us for the movie. Initially, Joe sat in the middle, but within minutes, he decided the seat at the end was "more interesting" and swapped spots with Lesley. As the horror scenes unfolded with eerie music and suspenseful moments, I found myself intensely focused on the screen, trying to anticipate the next scare. Suddenly, I felt a gentle hand on my leg, tracing soft circl

Not when it feels like swallowing a broken glass every time. There's a loud crash from next door and it makes me jump. Definitely not dead then. Just clumsy. I grab my robe and tiptoe to my front door, pressing my eye to the peephole. The hallway is empty, but I can hear muffled cursing coming from 4B. Deep, masculine cursing that does absolutely nothing for me. Okay, that's a lie. It does something. Something that makes me very aware that I'm only wearing a thin cotton nightgown under this robe.

--- Fridge Notes A sticky note on the fridge door: "MILK FOR THE SHAFT, YOU NEED CALCIUM." "You're unhinged!" A second note appeared on the toaster: "AND YOU LOVE IT." --- Trying to leave Nathan braved the front door. Deep breath. One hand on the knob. And then, SLAP. The ghost's invisible hand smacked his ass. Hard. He gasped, jumped three feet forward, and dropped the grocery bag. The mirror fogged once more. "CLAIMED." --- Evening whispers

PART ONE: THE TAKING 9:47 PM - The Plaza Hotel, Manhattan The penthouse door opened without a key because Ghost had already handled that part. He'd slipped inside twenty minutes earlier, wearing a maintenance uniform, moving with the mechanical precision of a man who'd spent seven years learning how to be invisible inside systems designed to trap people like us.

I was so startled that I dropped my phone directly onto my plastered, broken leg. The noise next door stopped. All that remained was dead silence and my own heartbeat, hammering like it might burst out of my chest. No way. It was absolutely impossible. Zach, that mute bastard, had been dead for a month. I made sure his body was completely gone. By now, it would have turned to mud. If he could talk, he would have been in heaven, screaming at me, not standing next door playing ghost.

“Then, you think there is another way into the lab?” Noah shook his head again, “Not likely, no.” Fynn looked at Noah strangely, “Then how did the Ghost enter the hallway?” Noah smiled sweetly, but his words made Fynn feel lightheaded, “Of course, he used the same door as everyone else.” Fynn clutched at his forehead, “We just went over this. If he had entered through the door, he would have been caught on camera. So why didn’t the camera capture his entry?”

MARCO SLAMMED THE DOOR shut to Ghost's one-room rental. It wasn't the same one as before. It was across town in another walk-up over a different store. At least this one didn't smell of grease, and it had two single beds. As a bonus they had a hot plate and a tiny sink, in addition to a bathroom down the hall. So long as they paid in cash, no one asked questions. "No luck?" Ghost didn't turn from the mountain of monitors.

My name is Gavin York. I’m thirty-five years old, and I have worked in the city for the past five years. It’s been tough to get by lately, so I decided to get a roommate to cut down on rent and living costs. I advertised online and waited, but months ticked by with nothing. Just as I was about to take down the notice, a message from someone named Rose Wilder popped up in my feed. Her profile picture showed a woman with a sultry, mature vibe, but her page was blank. It looked like she had just appeared out of thin air.

It wasn’t rough. It was too familiar. “I can walk you home,” he said. I swatted his hand away. “I can order an Uber.” “Your house is next door.” I stopped. Next door. I turned back to the window. The fog outside. The trees. The large yard. The faint stone path. The black gate Issa had once commented on. Three seconds later, the map in my head finished loading. I slowly turned back to Zach. “It's Nathan’s mansion.” He just looked at me.