Ghost Stories With A Twist Novels & Stories

"There's no way I was the only one seeing ghosts!" Tang and Sawyer, who'd clearly been eavesdropping, finally spoke up. "Ghosts?" Sawyer asked, his voice low and serious. "What ghosts?" Tang, who had been leaning against the wall like nothing could bother him, suddenly perked up. "Wait. Ghosts? Are we talking European phantoms? Japanese yūrei? Or like, vengeful brides in white?" His eyes lit up like he'd just found a whole new season of his favorite horror show.

I reached out and pressed the radio button on the steering wheel. My voice was cold, cutting through the static. "Mason Vale, do you see a ghost in your mirror?" I said coldly into the radio. Those words pierced straight through Mason's last line of composure. His car hesitated for an obvious instant on the straight. Now. I smashed the throttle down. The car tore through the air and pulled alongside him. Ahead was a chain of fast S-curves. Seeing that I was about to pass, a vicious look flashed through Mason's eyes.

"Belle is dead, but you're the one who's guilty. You fell for her, didn't you? You didn't even realize it, but you loved her." I listened to their exchange, and it all seemed like some sick joke. Grayson loving me? That was the most absurd thing I had ever heard. Grayson locked Alice and kept her starved for three days, only giving her water to keep her alive. I found the whole thing too ridiculous. Late regrets and empty affection were worth less than dirt. While I was still alive, he treated me like garbage, and now, dead as I was, it felt like this charade was put on for the benefit of ghosts.

Those who had discovered the truth were swiftly silenced, their secrets dying with them. The rumors about The Ghost were the stuff of criminal legend. They said he could walk through walls, that he had spies in every major organization, that he could make people disappear without a trace. Some said he wasn't human at all, but a vengeful spirit who had returned from the dead to punish the wicked. Victor did nothing to discourage these tales—in fact, he cultivated them.

He crooked a brow. My blood thrummed in anxiety but I was able to fake a smile." yeah." He wrapped his arms around me as we both drifted off to sleep. I didn't sleep but pretended to because I kept staring at the gap underneath the door. There was something or someone there because I could see the thick shadow. For a moment, I thought I saw black dust floating in the air until I blinked, and it disappeared. Goosebumps crawled on my skin. Am I seeing things, or am I just being paranoid?

Hidden underneath her planner was a small pill bottle she'd never seen before. She picked it up with shaking hands. The label was for a powerful sedative, prescribed to someone named Catherine Ashcroft. The name William had murmured in his sleep during the storm. Lucy opened the bottle. It was nearly full, as though someone had barely used it. Or as though someone had planted it there. But why? Why hide pills in her room? And who was Catherine Ashcroft? As Lucy stared at the mysterious bottle, she realized she'd stumbled onto something dangerous. Someone was playing a game, and she didn't know the rules.

After I was done I look into the mirror one last time, checking myself again. While I was still at it Andre comes behind me, circled my waist and roughly pulled me against his body. I tensed as his lips caressed my exposed back and his fingers traveling up and down my spine. There was a time his touched used to drive me crazy. When it used to turn me on but now all it does is freak me out. It’s like acid on my skin … it’s burns. Really burns. All I want to do is stay away as far as possible.

She napped herself out of her fantasy She took off her shoes and snuck quietly into the living room careful not to bang the door, But when she turned around and her eyes met with three other pairs, two of them shinning with anticipation while the other scowled with spurn, her plan of making a quiet entrance went up in smoke. “Hello everyone,” Amanda grimaced “It smells like a walk of shame in here,” Barack sniffed the air dramatically, while Angela and Mercy broke into peals of laughter. “Tit tat,” Barack clucked his tongue contemptuously “I knew you had a concealed schema, I revoke your sainthood,” he chimed in as he took the flip flops from her.

My eyes went wide seeing his pupils up close, his eyes were red and his pupil is black! Oh my god! “Calm down.” He said calmly but of course, I didn’t calm down. I feel so scared that I can’t help but to tightly close my eyes and tried punching him in the stomach but he just catched my fist that made me feel even more scared. I took some steps backwards to at least widen our distance. Who knew if he suddenly bit me? I read something about ghosts that copy the humans who their target longs about. They used it as bait or to deceive them to follow what they wanted… I also read about ghosts that can hurt humans. Thinking about it, this one could touch me, meaning….

All the bones in my body seem to have shifted from where they were. “Stop crying.” “It hurts, bastard!” “Want me to hit you again?” “If you kill me now... I swear I’ll haunt you for the rest of your life!” “Interesting.” “What do you mean?” “Ghosts can’t die, right? I can torture you. Forever.” “What the—” “Want to die now?” the man offered. I glanced the other way, muttering quietly. “No.” ***