Ghost Stories To Read Novels & Stories

As I drift into unconsciousness I start a chant of protection against demons *Whether thou art a ghost that hath come from the earth, or a phantom of night that hath no couch… or one that lieth dead in the desert… or a ghost unburied… or a hag-demon, or a ghoul, or a robber-sprite, or a weeping woman that hath died with a babe at the breast… Whatever thou be until thou art removed, until thou departest from the body of the man, thou shalt have no water to drink. Thou shalt not stretch forth thy hand… Into the house enter thou not. Through the fence break thou not...*

Suddenly, Adrian realized that these individuals indeed harbored ulterior motives. Adrian expanded his awareness, and the sight before him left him speechless. The entire hall was now teeming with an array of ghosts and monsters. Among them were towering old men with only one eye, lanterns swaying on a single leg, malformed boys with just one limb each, women clad in white exuding a bone-chilling aura, and skeletal figures draped in human skin...

The host chuckled, masking a hint of envy in her voice. "Welcome to 81.9 GistFM, I'm Aaaa-manda, and we're ready to delve into something spooky today. Though Halloween isn't here yet, we'll be discussing the supernatural, including Vampires, Werewolves, Ghosts, and even Witches. If young ones are tuned in, you might want to switch off the radio. But first, let's get down to business - do you believe in these supernatural entities? Miranda halted.

The very walls seemed to whisper the secrets of forbidden romance and shattered dreams. Fascinated by the story that unfolded before her, Ameera's fear began to wane, replaced by a newfound sense of empathy. She realized that the spirits she had feared were not vengeful apparitions but remnants of lives once lived. The ghost stories that had haunted her imagination now took on a new meaning—a testament to the human emotions that had lingered within these walls. Embracing her curiosity and the beauty of the palace's past, Ameera ventured further, exploring hidden rooms and secret passages. She traced her fingers along the ancient tapestries and marveled at the intricate carvings that adorned

“They don’t like it when I say I’ve already been there.” “Hard to go somewhere you don’t believe in.” He mused. “True statement.” She agreed. “I pulled a few books for you. Don’t feel like you have to all of them. Or even any of them.” “I appreciate this. I’m not sure what to think about all of this.” “The woman? The feelings you have? Or the gifts she has?” Giving her a wry smile, he asked, “Do I have to pick just one?” “Absolutely not.” Ciara shuffled the books and pulled one out, handing it over. “This one is about ghosts. I also pulled a few about white covens.”

Rowan left before Iris could see him. Iris sat up and looked around. The air stank of blood and the bank was carpeted with dead bodies. Iris felt nauseous and and finally threw up. "Tell me I was dreaming" She looked at her best friend who looked at Japh. Japh shook his head. "You were…he was…" Iris pointed and touched her forehead. "Breathe" "Werewolves don't exist, right?" She suddenly stood up. "Because there's no way I just saw you change into a...oh no!"

“And… When Layla started working there, I felt that feeling even more. Like I wasn’t ever alone. Like I could look over my shoulder and find someone–something watching me from afar.” “What did that feel like to you?” Helen asks calmly. “That’s an odd question.” I chuckle, shrugging. “I guess… it didn’t feel threatening. Maybe… bored curiosity? That changed, though, when all the weird things started happening to Layla, and when we found out what Vera was doing to Miss Penny it got worse.” Chills erupt all over my skin. I shake them away. “Do you believe in ghosts, Helen?” “Oh, of course. You can’t live in the deep south without holding some belief about the spirits that linger here.”

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?

Their hands are almost touching. A shiver ran down my spine. Some ghosts don’t need to haunt you. They just wait until you find them again. And tonight, I had.

My skin prickles, my nerves strung tight as if my body knows something my mind doesn’t want to acknowledge. It has to be a ghost. That’s the only explanation my panicked brain can come up with. The way the shadows shift, the way the silence feels alive—it’s exactly like every horror story I’ve ever heard. I try to tell myself that ghosts aren’t real, but at this moment, I almost believe they are. And then I hear it. And then— A soft sniffing sound. Oh good, maybe it’s a lost puppy. Or, you know, a demon. Anything is possible at this point.