Ghost Stories For Writing Novels & Stories

1, edited by Joe Mynhardt Fear the Reaper, edited by Joe Mynhardt For the Night is Dark, edited by Ross Warren Short story collections: Dead Reckoning and Other Stories by Dino Parenti Things You Need by Kevin Lucia Frozen Shadows and Other Chilling Stories by Gene O’Neill Varying Distances by Darren Speegle The Ghost Club: Newly Found Tales of Victorian Terror by William Meikle Ugly Little Things: Collected Horrors by Todd Keisling Whispered Echoes by Paul F. Olson

I looked at her with a dubious look. “The dead don’t lie Katherine. These are flashes, ghosts whispering their own tales of memories from times past. It doesn’t necessarily mean that the ghost is directly here with us just, shadows of their memories. When something horrific, it imprints on the room or house in a negative way.” I was nodding in understanding of everything that she was saying. I knew a little about paranormal investigation. I watch Ghost Hunters and The Dead Files. “Something really bad happened here. The memories of that event are stained into this place. I don’t think it was in this room though.”

No matter how painful and difficult it was for me to rid myself of my feelings for her, I had to steel myself and do it anyway. I didn't tell my friends the real reason why the wedding was canceled. I simply said I'd be joining a research lab soon, and that it would be a long while before I could have contact with the outside world again. Feeling apologetic for springing this on my friends, I stayed out with them until late at night before heading back to the house. When I got back, Wendy had just returned as well. After smelling alcohol on me, she frowned and took a few steps back. Covering her nose, she said, "Stay away from me. The stench makes me want to puke."

In the moonlight, a woman in a white lace dress was kneeling on the stone steps of the chapel, her face buried in her hands, her shoulders trembling. She had no feet. Below her dress, there was only a swirling black mist. "I see her." Lorenzo let out a low whistle. "Two years ago, Marco put her in the ground right there. Her ashes are buried under the rose bushes behind the chapel." I didn't stop, walking straight toward the chapel. Giovanni froze behind me but didn't dare to call out. As I reached the bottom of the steps, the female ghost's head snapped up. She lunged at me, her face a sickly pale green, her eye sockets empty black pits.

Have you ever seen a ghost? I have. They are warped by the most gruesome magic. If something as beautiful and pure such as a soul had a dark side it would be a ghost. A twisted reality. Ghosts were always hungry, hunting for life's energy. They are never satisfied. They just want more and more until there is nothing left. I was afraid of ghosts because on my 9th birthday, my father dearest set a family of them on me. They loomed at the foot of my bed, hid underneath it, and floated above me. They never fed, they just watched. They gave me nightmares.

He stood straight with a serious face as he began his explanation. "Ghosts are the souls of dead humans who... well, aren't ready to rest in peace. They don't have powers. All they can do is move from one place to another without being seen. Well, not by everyone though." "But... if you're a demon, why then are you in this form?" She couldn't help but ask.

I whispered back, then there I saw him opening his eyes slowly. "That is not human, so go back to sleep and let them play themselves in the middle of the night." What does that mean? They are not humans? And let them play in the middle of the night? When he saw my curious and puzzled face, he turned around to face me and look at me seriously. "In every dormitory, there is a ghost. It's a normal thing of course, that's why some students even though they need to travel far from their houses, they were choosing it over dormitory because they can't just handle some creepy things. So whatever you will hear and see needs to be buried at that moment. We don't need to see them, but we can actually f

I've never had a moon goddess take over my body before. I've never had a lot of things happen to me before. If the last year of my life has proven anything to me, it's that unicorns, werewolves, and ghosts are all real. The nightmares that exist in my story books are all true. Those authors knew something about the world that the rest of us could only dream of.

She found it funny to tell me horror stories before bed. I remembered once returning the favor. I told her about Terry the ghost, a boy who’d died in an accident on the street across from our house. Terry’s ghost wandered our neighbor’s house where his family had once lived. Mom hadn’t slept alone for weeks after that, and she never told me another horror story. My mom was like me in some ways—she was terrified of the paranormal, or anything religious. That’s why her engagement to Bill had been such a shock. But even Mom had gotten braver, so why couldn’t I?

“She should probably start with the stories Nana always loved to tell her. Those are the type that might be illegal.” “What the hell, Tate. Why are you out here ratting out Nana like that?” “Tell me,” I say, ignoring her fake annoyance with Tatum. “Everyone has heard of ghost wolves,” she starts with a sigh. “But no one ever talks about what they are, how they came to be.” “All I recall hearing was that they were wandering wolves who lost their mates.” I shrug and Tatum shakes her head. “No, they are a ghost of themselves because they never found their mates.” Tatum corrects me and I roll my eyes. “Our moms always argued about that bit when they would try to scare us with the stories.”