Ghostly Apparitions Novels & Stories

With a click, the clasp came undone, and the pendant fell to the floor. In a flash, Zoe’s eyes widened. She grabbed my collar like a madwoman. “Y-You… You didn’t switch fates? You lied to me?!” I looked at her in surprise. “What are you talking about?” Miles suddenly exclaimed, “Ow, Maisie. My neck feels itchy.” He pulled down his collar, exposing his collarbone, and clearly revealed who was actually wearing the demonic fate-swapping lock.

“Um, they’re like, evil spirits? From some kind of hell dimension?” Vincent sighed through his nose. “A crude oversimplification. Demon is our word for the otherworldly beings that, before a few generations ago, could only partially access our world. Hauntings, poltergeist events, and other semi-material supernatural phenomena in the past were often the result of their attempts to affect conditions here. Other common examples of this would include…” He gestured for the class to call out answers. “Ghost lights,” called one student, and another said, “Crop circles, right?” Others threw out things like Bermuda Triangle disappearances, skyquakes, even spontaneous combustion – a bunch of stuff th

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.

Marcus, the quiet guy from accounting leaned against the door, arms crossed, with a bitter smirk twisting his lips. “McAllen,” he said. “You’ve been looking real happy lately. I see you enjoy your late night with the boss.” My stomach dropped. “What the hell are you talking about?” He stepped closer, I could see the jealousy in his eyes. “ I saw you leaving the private elevator. Looking like a man whose ass has taken some cock. You’re not the first, you know. The Ghost destroys anyone who tries to get close. You’re just the latest toy.” “The Ghost?” I laughed it off, but my voice sounded shaky even to me. “Sounds like some movie legend bullshit.”

One face after another, as if emerging from the ground, just staring at Amelia and the other person through the mist. There was pain, there was pleading, there was anger, there was malice, and there was bloodlust. Each of them had their mouths open, as if speaking something. At first listen, it seemed no different, but upon closer inspection, it was a voice demon that could drive one insane. Amelia had never met before, but she had heard the old man mention her. This is called the wailing of a hundred ghosts, and it only appears in times of great disasters and catastrophes.

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.

Dima (with a sly smile): There she is, I see her now, fast asleep. Malik (commandingly): Come closer... Grab her by the neck. Suddenly, in a flash, Dima's shadow began to take shape, curling into a dark entity, stealthily slipping into Miranda's room like a silent spirit. The door opened slowly, its sharp sound shattering the villa's stillness. Dima's ghostly form slid inside, its chill spreading like poison through the air.

When he notices Harold, he jumps as if zapped by electricity. "Gruelling gastritis! Be gone from me, you vile offspring of Satan!" Harold halts whilst Sid keeps rubbing his eyes and glaring at Harold. He does this repeatedly before shrieking once again like a hoarse-voiced banshee. "Abstract apparition! I am seeing a ghost! Flee from me you godforsaken demon. Scram! I said be gone you deranged ghost. Why should you haunt me? You brought it upon yourself! You are despicable! I command thee to return to the netherworld. Be gone from the land of the living!"

Even if she did, she'd blame it on the wind. "Ghost?" Sharon was becoming concerned, "I thought you don't believe in such things?" "Really? Oh, em." Geneva cleared her throat and spoke confidently, "that's true, I am not scared by flimsy things such as ghooosts!" The last word Sharon heard was the word 'ghosts' being screamed into her eardrums before she heard nothing else. The phone had fallen and disassembled and the call, disconnected.

I spent the next few days learning the purpose of and how to use the equipment that Nora had purchased in preparation for our taking on the paranormal. I found it both interesting and frustrating. There were gadgets for almost everything one might imagine, such as electromagnetic detectors and thermometers. Apparently, ghosts use electricity to help them manifest and, when they do, the temperature in the room will change even if you can’t see them. Being a skeptic at heart, I found the equipment both interesting and amusing.