Ghostly Hollow Novels & Stories

I began to chant as I felt the blood of Ares mixing with my own until I could feel his power coursing through my veins. I lift my hand and outstretched it until my long black fingernail was technically touching the barrier around the clearing. I watch as the tip of my nails began to bend until it melt. I smirked before retracting my hand. "Ester darling, I see you are not happy that I am visiting you today." I spoke and summoned one of my crows. This one name was Ghost, he had a liking for lost souls that lingered on earth.He could spot them quickly, something I have used him for occasionally when I want to suck some of the souls power. There is nothing more delicious than a wandering soul.

Then—crack. The altar stone split, a jagged line running through its center like lightning frozen in rock. From the crack rose smoke. No, not smoke—memory. A ghost. Her father’s silhouette shimmered, barely formed. Just bone structure and sadness. His voice, when it came, was layered—a dozen voices behind one mouth. “You’ve fed the Hollow. It will ask for more.” Julian gasped. Even he, with all his secrets, hadn’t seen this. Asher stepped forward, tense. “Is it him?”

“Means something is alive here now. Something it wasn’t built to contain.” --- 🩷Talia🩷 It was like walking through a graveyard that breathed. Every step over the Hollow’s ground felt like it pushed back—resistant, sentient. She hated it. She stayed close to Ronan but not too close. Her feelings for him were boiling under the surface—this strange tension between comfort and chaos. It distracted her. And in a place like this, distraction could kill. But that wasn’t the worst part. The worst part was the way the Hollow responded to her. The moment she’d crossed the threshold, it had welcomed her. Whispered in languages she hadn’t learned, offered strange warmth through the soles of her boots.

One of them. The shadows writhed, the silence grew taut and in that unsustainable stillness, i knew the war raging outside was nothing to the war that had just begun within this room and far away through the cracks of the windows, the faint cry of a howl developed, unprecedented, freezing and tinged with black magic. It was coming closer.

His explanation shocked me , i have never heard such things and I've never believed in ghost theories. "It's getting dark , take this book and go read it " he said and gave me the strange old looking book. "Thank you sir, i have much appreciated your help" i said. Now i knew what it was all about, all those confusions were caused by him, my ghost clone. It was night already and the time was 7: 15 pm . I had to rush home , it was not safe for me to be lonely at this time. When i was passing by a certain basement , i heard a woman crying for help, i stopped to trace where the voice was coming from but the moment i stopped the voice also stopped, i started walking then i heard the woman yelling

The ghostly face twisted and morphed, adopting a gloomy and sinister expression with a huge, wide smile. Sunny felt scared as she watched the face materialize, its hollow eyes staring directly at her. Trembling, she whispers, "What the hell?" The ghostly figure moves closer and floats right up to her face. She can then feel it go through her body and out the other side, which makes Sunny feel like she is being shocked. Just as she feels zapping through her, the ghostly figure vanishes into thin air, leaving Sunny breathless and filled with a mix of fear. The whispering in the room then came to a stop. Pure silence engulfed the room, amplifying Sunny's racing heartbeat. She sat frozen.

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.

She lunged at me, her face a sickly pale green, her eye sockets empty black pits. I stood my ground. "He's not coming back," I said softly. "You can be at peace now." The ghost froze. Her shoulders trembled, and she let out a faint whimper, as if a great weight had been lifted. The black mist around her dissipated. Her form turned faint, then transparent, until she dissolved into a wisp of light that drifted toward the rose bushes. Lorenzo's eyes lit up. "Damn, where'd you learn that trick?"

By the time Richard arrived, the funeral was almost over. Everyone who had come to say goodbye was gone. Only I remained. I wanted a little more time with Chloe. She'd always been clingy. And she was afraid of the dark. "Richard, see? I told you Selena was lying. If this were really a funeral, why is nobody here? This is obviously another stunt to get you to come home." Grace's voice cut through the silence. Richard's face darkened.

Layla could feel Johnny's eyes on her skin before she even saw him. It was the curse of ghosts— they haunted your senses, a cold shiver whispering across your skin before you ever laid eyes on the source. The Hollow reeked of stale smoke, faded memories, and men who'd lost their spark long ago, but Johnny? He was all sharp edges and burning embers, a presence that never truly faded. She made her entrance with the practiced grace of a woman who knew how to