Ghostly Hollow Novels & Stories

Asked Ria. "Who knows? Because there some unfinished business? She or he carrying a grudge? I do not know either. But what certain is that if one becomes a ghost because they died tragically and become a terrifying ghost…” Loren shrugged. Oh really? But the one that’s in the house, was far from scary. He even looked like an ordinary human. Handsome human. Except for the fact that the figure was transparent and could walked through the wall… Also inhale the aroma of food to eat…

And after what she told me earlier,of what she had seen…” Hollingsworth Manor,July 1984 “I swear to you Polly,”Ginny said in her most excited voice.”I saw her…in my room!” “Calm down Ginny,”Polly implored.”Tell me everything from the beginning.” Polly pulled her younger sister down next to her on the low wall overlooking the garden,where the flowers were in full bloom.Ginny’s beautiful elfin face,so much like her own,was frozen in a mask of pure terror. “I believe you Polly,everything you said about this place is true…its haunted!At first I only felt it,but now… I have seen this evil with my own two eyes!”

The old lighthouse had been dark for years. Perched on the jagged edge of Widow’s Point, the Black Hollow Lighthouse had been abandoned since the night Keeper Alden Rowe vanished without a trace. No one had taken the position after that. Some said he’d fallen. Others whispered the sea had claimed him for a debt long unpaid. Mara didn’t believe in sea-debts. But she knew what she saw. Three flashes. Evenly spaced. Deliberate. The pattern repeated. Her little brother, Toby, burst into her room. “Did you see it?”

They were midway across the path, in front of a cemetery when suddenly graves started opening. "What is going on?" Isabella asked, clutching onto Chris tightly. Chris was suddenly sweating so furiously but Ariel was cool and her face was blank and devoid of any emotions. They stood there watching six tombs open and six scary-looking ghosts walked out. Isabella was already whitish in appearance knowing who they are. Chris's hairs were all up and his eyes green, his normal sight nature. "GREETINGS TO THE SPECIAL ONE." One of them muttered. "GREETINGS TO THE LITTLE GODDESS." Another muttered.

“Gods… Ragnor, that’s—” “The Hollow.” My voice came out as a low growl, steady despite the icy dread crawling up my spine. Valkyrie turned to me, her eyes searching mine for confirmation—for denial. But I had none to give. “No,” she whispered, shaking her head. “It can’t be.” It was. The Hollow was more than just a spirit. It was a force beyond this world, a parasite that didn’t just consume bodies—it devoured souls, leaving nothing but an empty, twisted husk behind. A fate worse than death.

I looked at her quickly. “What is it trying to do?” Her expression turned grim. “The Hollows feed on opened spirit gates.” Cold dread spread through me instantly. “And what exactly is a spirit gate?” Lyra didn’t answer immediately. Which was never a good sign. Finally she whispered: “You.” Nope. Absolutely not. I was getting extremely tired of being magical problems. The Hollow suddenly exploded from the ocean again. Its giant body slammed onto the side of the ship while red eyes locked directly onto mine. Everyone screamed.

She could almost hear whispers under the wind — not words, just a low hum, like something calling her name from a long distance. “Not far now,” Silas said quietly. His eyes flicked from shadow to shadow. “Stay close.” Rowan trudged behind them, jaw tight, his hand never straying far from his gun. “This place is cursed,” he muttered. “I can feel it.” Mara gave a dry laugh. “Everything’s cursed now.” Caleb adjusted his satchel. “Gray Hollow was once a sanctuary for hunters and wolves alike, before the first Blood Moon split them apart. My notes say the old wardings still sleep beneath the stones.”

he said, his voice low. “Then it’s time someone did,” Lyra murmured, eyes fixed ahead. “The Hollowed Ones left blood in their wake. I’m going to follow it.” They had been tracking them for days. From the ruins of the third Gate to the Crescent Fang borders, through the scorched ridge and now toward the ancient woods the packs once sealed off—the Hollow Hollow, named not just for its appearance but for the magic buried beneath its roots. It was a place even the bravest of wolves avoided. Where the veil between spirit and flesh thinned. Where banished power whispered back into the world.

But victory was fleeting. The ground beneath them cracked open with a deafening roar, swallowing them whole in a spiraling descent into endless darkness, cold, silent, void. No light, no sound but their ragged breaths and the pounding of their hearts. “No…” Sarah whispered, clutching John’s arm as the weightlessness surrounded them. “Where are we?” A deep, resonant voice filled the void, shaking the silence with an ancient power. “Welcome to the heart of the Hollow.” From the blackness, a figure emerged, a woman cloaked in silver and shadow, her eyes burning like distant stars in the void. Her presence was both terrifying and mesmerizing, radiating an otherworldly calm.

“Whatever’s haunting you isn’t just in your head. It’s in your blood.” She swallowed hard. “Then I need to find out who she was.” Roman hesitated, then said quietly, “I think I know where to start.” At dawn, they left camp quietly—just the two of them, traveling through the burnt-out districts toward the forgotten quarter known as Hollowgate. The place was ancient, older than most of Viremont’s current ruins. Wolves avoided it for generations, saying it was cursed by Luna herself. Now, Nora understood why. The air there was thick with energy. The closer they got to the heart of Hollowgate, the stronger her mark pulsed.