Ghost Trapped In A Jar Novels & Stories

She offered a bow and disappeared through the door, it closed behind her and the waterfall continued as if it was never frozen. Callie sat up in bed her mind at peace, she giggled at the dream, did she really think she was in some sort of fantasy mov-? Callie's thought process halted when she saw the glass jar from her dream sitting on her bed, her jaw dropped and she pushed herself off the bed with her hands, her curly hair was a frizzy mess and her duck night gown had ridden up to her mid thigh, she landed on the fall with a yelp and a petal in the jar twinkled as if mocking her. She stood up slowly and approached her bed cautiously. Her hand was outstretched over the jar and she paused fo

“We just figured out that the warehouse was abandoned five years ago. The victim’s time of death might have been around that time, too.” Jim froze for a moment before the electric saw started buzzing. But in the next moment, he regained his composure and calmly turned off the saw. My soul levitated in the air, and I felt a bitterness settle in my heart. So, I had been dead for five years? After I turned into a ghost, I was stuck in a dark basement. Every day, I watched cockroaches and rats climb all over me, but they were unable to bite into my flesh. Then, one day, a livestreamer who proclaimed himself to be a nighttime explorer opened the basement.

He walked with an exceptional determination, though his pace was slow. We walked slowly through the fallen leaves, past the Italian-style fountain, and finally stopped in front of the small chapel deep within the estate. "Aurora, do you remember this place?" "I remember. The first day, you told me there was a female ghost trapped inside." "Yeah." Lorenzo stared at the carved wooden door. "That was my first love. Marco, that bastard, tortured her to death." An inexplicable heaviness settled in my heart. "What's this? Is my wife jealous?" Lorenzo turned his head, his eyes playful.

"Don't dare touch me again or I'll kill you again." The male chuckles and rubs his hair. "I'm just like you... A ghost. So how can you possibly kill me? I came back just the same way you came back cause I can't let you hurt her even though I wish I can cause she's a silly female." Jalen rolls her eyes at him and relaxes but suddenly shudders when his other words dawned on her and all the hairs on her body started rising and goosebumps prickled at her skin. "Y..yo..u..both are ghosts?"

Adam lamented. “I’m just wondering if maybe we should get him inside and bolt the door. This might not be the safest place for him after all. She’s getting a might closer and some of those zombie spirits look like they’re coming back to life in a not too friendly way.” He studied the spirits who were once so animated but were now acting dazed and confused. A few of them were losing that dazed look. It was being replaced by one of intelligence and… Anger? Hate? He couldn’t tell.

The girl trembled violently with fear and could not speak out a single word. "It seems that your eyes betrayed your feeling," the man revealed his chilling white teeth, lifted the girl by her smooth chin, and said, "what a vivid life. I guess your blood tastes good." As he said that, he opened the jar with one hand. A gust of thick black smoke spread out from the jar, accompanied by gusts of chilling wind. All of a sudden, the girl's pupils dilated, and she struggled desperately. From inside the jar, a withered claw stretched out, followed by another claw. Slowly, a rotten head peered out. At last, a small infant climbed out of the jar with his withered skin covered by sticky liquid. It crie

He dropped the toolbox and grasped at the thing’s hands, realizing in horror that though his fingers dug deep grooves into the skin, no blood flowed. Kicking and scratching, he looked down. A withered, leathery, decaying face with cracked and bleeding lips leered at him, showing slimy, broken teeth. “Gonna fuck you up, cheater! Fuck you up BAD!” *** Swaying in the thing’s grip, hands clawing and flailing, Jarred tried to scream but only gurgled. He felt the warm flush of his bladder releasing and somehow that was the worst thing; that he was going to die pissing his pants.

It was a Psychological-Horror landscape—the sanctuary had become a gallery of Elara’s maternal trauma. "Elara, stay back," Kazimir warned, drawing his Glitch-Blade. The flickering edge hissed as it moved through the air, sensing the Corrupted-Code of the ghosts. "The garden is dying, Elara," the ghosts whispered in unison, a hundred different voices creating a Polychromatic Chorus that shook the ground. "The General is gone, but the shards remain. We are the 'Infection' you can never delete." One of the ghosts—the one in the lab coat—walked toward Elara. She didn't have feet; she drifted across the grass, the moss turning to gray ash beneath her. She stopped inches from Elara’s face.

“That should not be possible. No one enters that space except the host of the seal. No living person can walk directly into the pit without being marked.” “Maybe she was not living,” I said softly. Zara froze. Her eyes widened a little. “Melissa… what are you saying?” I swallowed hard. “Jamal said she was someone he buried.” Zara took a step back. “That would mean we are dealing with an echo spirit. Or worse… a puppeted form. Nothing good, in either case.” I turned to the stairs. “We need Kael. We need a full anchor on the pit. I am not letting him face this alone.”

Ghost grabbed the other hand, and the remaining five fingers also fell to the ground. Marcus and Mark had lost the ability to speak as they looked on in fear. Ghost used a special technique and broke Layla’s limbs. She could not move, and the only thing she could do was scream out in pain. She wanted to faint, but the pain woke her up every time. Ghost looked towards the door and ordered, “Come.” A few men in white lab coats carrying unique briefcases entered. They looked like doctors, but when Marcus had a clear look at the badges on their chests, he was so dumbfounded that he ended up vomiting blood.