Ghost Story Writing Novels & Stories

As I stepped out and fumbled for my towel, a spooky creak scraped along the doorframe, sending a jolt of fear through my veins. Gosh, why did I do this to myself? I had this terrible habit of reading horror stories and spending sleepless nights huddled under the covers in fear. And then it came again, the same scraping noise but followed by muffled, ominous laughter. It was definitely not my overactive imagination. Did someone else use this room when I wasn't around at night? Goosebumps erupted across my already prickling skin as I slowly opened the door a sliver to look. It was only a quarter past nine, too early for ghosts to come out. At least in the stories I read, they waited till midni

“You have just woken up. You should not strain yourself thinking too much. Please rest. I will inform Mr. Oliver right away.” Adrian stopped trying to think. He closed his eyes and sank back into a deep sleep. In his haze, whispers flooded his mind. “I am all alone now. No one loves me anymore. Please, do not leave me.” “Can I give you my lifespan?” “I want to see you.” “Ms. Ghost, please save me…” “Can you take me with you to heaven? Living hurts so much… sob…” Who was she? Why did my heart ache so badly when I saw her cry? And who was Ms. Ghost to her?

As he flipped through the yellowed old pages, he sat down on the neatly made bed and began to read, curiosity etched on his features. Don Carianno’s writing was in beautiful cursive. It looked like he took his time to scribble, dotting all his i's and crossing his t's. He flipped through the first pages, there was an entry about a new shipment, but it didn’t make sense. He could not decipher the code words. He flipped through a few more pages, and that was when he saw an entry about him. It read: "Ghost, that’s what we’re going to name him. He’s, after all, a Ghost."

She opened her mouth, and a lullaby began, but the melody cracked and faltered, the notes dissolving into the sound of the surf like tears into the sea. Liora woke with the ghost of the broken lullaby in her ears and a wetness on her own cheeks. She knew, with the certainty of a Scribe, that this was not a monster to be fought. This was a wound that had never been cleaned. A story that had never been finished. At breakfast, she told them about the dream. "A ghost?" Ronan asked, his practical nature wrestling with the supernatural. "An echo," Liora corrected. "Like the ones in the Ashen Wastes. But this one isn't trapped in a battle. She's trapped in her grief."

He did not want to stay at the street as he knew once the sun rises in the morning, people would notice that the fog lift up already as the street is now totally abandoned. As the party moved to the other street, while walking, the white lady can not help but felt awkward in this silence. Two reapers walking alongside with four spirits. Even the two spectator ghosts can not helped but felt the same way. Even Garfield could feel it and wanted to add a topic but his mind having a mental block. What the heck would he talk about the ghosts? How to hunt them 101? Hence, he let the silence covered around them as they walked.

Now he had to go to that place immediately to start his plan, so. "All right, as long as all my plans go well, we owe each other nothing. But I hope you can write about how great I am after this. That is my wish. Can you still write my story?" replied the ghost general, smiling at the skeleton general. A frown appeared on the skeleton general's forehead. He didn't expect the ghost general to still be so confident in himself as the supreme being. But what? He would definitely continue to write the ghost general's story even if the result was death.

He lunged toward her— But the candle on the desk flickered out. The room was engulfed in darkness. In that pitch-black void, Camela’s scream abruptly stopped— Followed by complete silence. When the light flickered back, the ghost had vanished and the desk was empty. The only thing on the desk was the unfinished letter. Vincent flipped it over— On the back, written in fresh red ink: "This time, fox…write fast. She won’t last long."

She needs to call Betty; the girl has started suspecting that something was going on that her best friend was not telling her which was true. How can you tell your best friend that there is a ghost that lives in your apartment and you are friends with the ghost? Especially when this best friend knows that every male in your life who had shown kindness to you, you ended up falling for the person. No, Maisie agreed again with her former thoughts, there was no way she would tell Betty that she was sharing her apartment with a ghost and besides she isn't dumb enough to fall for a ghost. No matter how much he gets her, or how amazing his brain is, or how he manages to take care of her problems or

"Well, it was just a small event. It was (1:00 AM) In the morning as I was sleeping and suddenly... I heard the sound of an enchanting voice. I was so curious that I wanted to found out what was actually happening at that moment. So I opened my door only to see a ghost coming towards me and for a moment, I had lost control of myself. I couldn't move as my leg wobble on the ground and I didn't know when I fell down. A felt the ground opening in as the person lean towards me only for me to find out that he was a monster. Gosh, I was dying slowly inside of me as I bravely look him in the eyes and just then, my eyes brought out some flames as I shine it on him and he disappear immediately. "That

And the details were written about those pictures. She named them as demonic power spells. I sighed while going through the diary. Then came the pages for ghosts. She had written stories about the ghosts. Full stories like how she learned about a ghost in a place. Then she fought the ghosts and scared them away. The whole diary was filled with crazy things. Ghosts, spirits, Angels, demons, hell, heaven and God. By the end of that diary, I started to think that all the stories were real. I started to believe everything I saw in that diary.