Ghost Story Novels & Stories

I followed Ghost inside, covering our backs. The house smelled old, like wet newspaper, and dust swirled beneath our shoes with each step. The curtains were drawn, but lights slipped through the drapes’ gaps. Through the kitchen, we reached the living room; white fabric covered the couches and all other furniture. “This fucking gives me creeps,” I murmured, following Ghost on the stairs. “Don’t worry, lover boy. I’ll protect your terrified ass,” Ghost teased, reaching the second-floor landing. “Why do you call me lover boy?” I mumbled, frowning. Each door to the room we passed by was open, and all four were empty, even the bathroom.

Blood covered the walls the night my best friend, Cody Colfax, was murdered. His body twisted and twitched before my eyes, like a fish out of water splashing around on a boardwalk without anyone to put him back. The possession of his body from the unknown source, the scientists call 'The Ghost,' has haunted the bystanders for weeks now. When we found him, his body was half-naked and covered in ashes. The hairs on his arms were fried by the electrical chords wrapped around his arms. The tattoos on his body were symbolic, otherworldly. The Ghost left them there to make their presence known.

She reacted to his fiery kiss with equal fervour as he bit her lips, prying his tongue into her mouth. It was a strange phenomenon. Ghosts could not be touched or seen by normal people. But the custom of a ghost marriage binds a couple in such a way, that they can invoke passions in each other as well. Chaerin felt desire, sexual attraction and felt every touch of Joonjae's.

Ghost stories around a bonfire—what could be more suspenseful and playful? Alastair settled down next to me, his hand finding mine. He gave it a reassuring squeeze as he began his tale. "Once, in these very woods, there was a legend of a ghostly figure that would appear every full moon. They say that those who encountered this spirit were granted a wish, but at a great cost..." His words hung in the air, and the pack leaned in closer, their eyes locked on Alastair, captivated by the haunting tale. The crackling of the fire seemed to echo the suspense in the atmosphere.

GHOST The storm outside had turned vicious, wind slamming against the building hard enough to rattle the windows while thunder rolled in deep, layered waves beneath the floorboards. Rain battered the glass in relentless bursts that drowned out the quieter sounds of the apartment. Ember stood in the doorway like someone deciding whether to fight the storm or surrender to it, her body betraying her with every passing minute. Her breathing had grown uneven, and she kept touching her arms in small, restless movements that weren’t meant for him but that Ghost noticed anyway, cataloging each one.

Just poured himself a coffee, black and bitter, and leaned against the counter like the weight of the building could hold him steady. Ghost appeared like he always did, silent and sudden, leaning in the doorway with a cigarette burning low. His pale eyes cut across the room, landing on Rhett, steady and unblinking. “You didn’t sleep,” Ghost said. Not a question. A fact. Rhett took a swallow of coffee that burned all the way down. “Didn’t need to.”

No answer. Carefully, she made her way across the uneven dirt floor, trying to shine the light into the shadows. There was no sign of him anywhere. She peered over into the far corner, thinking maybe she saw something there, or perhaps it was her own shadow. An eerie feeling came over her. Suddenly, she felt someone grab her from behind. A hand over her mouth kept her from shrieking, and she nearly dropped the lantern. “Shhh!” a whispery voice said in her ear. “Ghosts don’t eat apple pie, and they don’t drink brandy.”

POV Millie Ghost is standing near the doorway. Is he the one on duty for tonight? “Millie.” The hideous man of a person says. “Um..what’s up?” I ask staring at the large scar that runs down his face. “Look Millie…” he says while scratching the back of his head. “I want to apologize for how badly I handled everything with you. I shouldn’t have reacted that way, I can tell you’re a good person, and uh..I don’t know…I think you need to see something on the third floor.” He says slumping his shoulder looking guilty. “What is it?” I ask cautiously. “It’s X..” he says with regret in his tone. “Is he okay?!” I ask frantically. “Yeah, yeah, he’s fine.” He says. I furrow my eyebrow

I hissed. “That looks like a painful memory” A strange voice said, I turned around and saw A unfamiliar man with pure silver hair, the same color as Logans but not as long and not as pretty. Memory? My eyes scouted this strangers face, he must have been in his late thirties, early forties “Who in the hell are you?” “Just a ghost” “What do you want, Ghost?” I sneered. “I’m busy Looking for someone” “You’re not going to find him here in the in-between pup”

"Grace, honey, look at me. Look at Daddy. Close your eyes." "He says I can't, Daddy," Grace whispered. Her small body was rigid, her white eyes fixed on the empty space. "He says if I close my eyes, the dark will come back forever. He says he's the one who kept the 'Saints' alive." The Drama of the Heart: The Ghost in the Blood Jinyan stepped into the room, his boots crunching on the shattered glass of a picture frame. The temperature was dropping. He could see his own breath—a white plume of fear in the sapphire strobe light.