Ghosts Ellie Goulding Novels & Stories

** “She was the heartthrob of countless fans, capturing hearts from the tender age of three. With her sweet and melodious voice, she dominated the industry for years, singing for movies, albums, and live performances. But her sudden departure from the stage left fans heartbroken—until now. After years away, Ellaya Stone has returned, setting the world ablaze with her electrifying performance. Is this the beginning of her comeback? The world is watching.” --- “Sophia, what the hell are you watching?” The deep voice startled the teenage girl, and she quickly swiveled her head toward her older brother. “Big bro!” she chirped, flashing him a mischievous grin. “I’m watching my favorite singer, du

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.

His pistol skittered across the asphalt. Kane stood over him, knife slick, his smile wide. “Took Elaine. Took your pride. Now I’ll take the rest.” Ghost coughed, blood wet on his lips, his body screaming in betrayal. He knew he was done. But he wasn’t finished. Not yet. With shaking hands, he pulled his phone from his cut. His vision blurred, his fingers trembling, but he found her name. Emily. The line clicked, her voice breaking when she answered. “Ghost? What’s wrong?”

Why did Ellie have to come looking for me ? ©#KCMmuoe

She disappeared and the three of them stared at her empty chair. “What?!! Did she just disappear?” Jill shouted in anguish. “Well if you can’t see her than that obviously means…” Olivia said in an awe. “That was a rhetorical question and you don’t answer a rhetorical question,” Jill gritted her teeth. “Ha-ha, good point,” Meredith said with amusement. “This whole thing looks like a plan to get us killed,” Olivia was finding it hard to snap out of the shock. “Yes, about that! Technically I cannot die I am a ghost. I am already dead,” Jill said with a smirk.

All glory to this bitch and her Mr arrogant. "Wife?!" We all snap to that angelic voice of this Ellie, the ghost woman. Why is she astounded? Why is she creaking hurt, huh? What was she expecting? That Jerol was still waiting for her after that long and given the way she arrogantly left him? She must be...

But they all felt so fucking real. Jesus! The thought of having sex with a ghost made me sick all over. My stomach knotted as a full-blown terror took root. A fever ran down my body and my skin gallop with goose pimples. "Do you see her?" his question brought me back to reality. I nodded slowly. "So those times I see you talking to yourself, it is her you are talking to?" I motioned. "Jesus!" he exclaimed. "You need deliverance with serious prayers oh!"

I watched Nellie clutch our mother's lifeless body, wailing in despair before she finally went quiet and called for a car to the funeral home. Eli, who had been hiding off to the side the entire time, clearly hadn't expected my mother's death either. Panic was written all over his face, and he rushed to report everything to Helena. As expected, the news made her lose her grip. An expensive porcelain piece slipped from her hands and shattered across the floor. "How… How could she die? I… I never meant for this! Where is Nellie?" "Nellie has gone to the funeral home to make arrangements," Eli replied, then added, "Nathan hasn't appeared at all."

Elliot’s eyes narrowed. “How?” Another line appeared. YOU’RE THE GHOST WHO BREACHED BLACKWOOD. His stomach tightened slightly. That nickname. The Ghost. He hadn’t heard anyone use it in months. Another message followed. WE WANT TO TALK. Elliot began typing. Who is this? The response came instantly. FRIENDS. Elliot rolled his eyes. “Sure you are.” He launched a deeper trace program. The signal immediately shifted again. The sender was extremely careful. Every movement Elliot made triggered another layer of protection.

I jolt upright, sweat slicking my skin, the same nightmare fading only to leave behind a pounding headache. When I open the door, my youngest niece stands right in front of me, reminding me of the six-year-old Gwen we lost. For a minute, I almost think it’s her, come back from the dead to haunt me. But my rational brain denies the possibility right away. Ghosts don’t exist. Regrets do. “What?” I ask, scowling, rubbing the sleep out of my eyes. “I just got a call from Elara,” she says way too hurriedly. “She’s in huge trouble. HUGE!”