Ghosts That We Knew Novels & Stories

His words began to slur, spilling out in a messy, confused rush. “There… there was a man. In Halton. Right after we moved to the glass house.” He took another gulp, the whiskey burning a path down his throat. “He was called… the Ghost. He wanted to kill us. Zhedya… he took care of it. He killed him, right in front of me. I didn’t want him to though but he was behind my memory loss then so…” Miller’s fingers tightened almost imperceptibly on his neck. “The Ghost? Do you know his real name?”

I rolled my eyes at him, and he laughed. “Back when we played truth or dare, you said you’ve seen ghosts that know me.” “A ghost,” He corrected, “Just one. And no, I will not tell you who they are or what they had to say.” “But—” His eyes flicked up, meeting my own. “The dead rarely make sense. Most of the time they’re confused, reliving the days leading up to their deaths. Theres a reason we’re cut off from them. I’m just the unfortunate exception.”

"What are these things? They're like something out of a nightmare." Caleb's eyes glinted with determination as he stepped forward. "They're nothing we can't handle. Stay together and fight as one. We'll make it through this." And they did. The group worked together, their movements fluid and efficient as they battled the undead horde. Eventually, the last zombie had fallen, and they were able to continue on their journey. Their final obstacle came in the form of ghosts. As they approached their destination, they were suddenly surrounded by a group of ethereal beings, their faces twisted in anger and pain. The ghosts seemed to materialize out of thin air, their moans echoing through the night

he said, though he was still shaking. Come to think of it, he might have a point. They could actually be ghosts, because no one has ever seen them. We only heard about them from our fellows, as if they were invisible, their movements untraceable. I don't really know anyone who has been a confirmed victim of their sentence, but all I'd ever heard was, if you get a letter from them, consider yourself dead.

“Always remember, Ghosts don’t exist.” “Ghosts don’t exist,” Syke repeated to himself over and over again. He didn’t mind saying it over and over until he believed it. Anything to make himself feel better about their mission in the middle of the night at St. Jacques. Chloe moved through a short expanse of land, taking time to scrape the mud off the tombstones and stare at the names on them. “Gary Endrick,” she murmured. “1975 to 2016. Died too young. All humans die young.”

" Wow! It doesn't seem like she can see ghosts hmm. Yes she can see ghosts but she doesn’t want to tell to other people about that. "But you can see ghost duh!” I said with full of sarcasm. "Yep. If it's a real ghost, and are you scared in ghosts? Opps.. you’re a ghoster remember?" And my crazy friend laughed as if she wasn't a ghoster too. "Wow am I the only ghoster here? You too" I muttered to her. "Hmm Aeshe whats the feeling of being ghosted?” she asked me out of nowhere. "Did you see the guys who cry when we are leaving them? And to see a guy crying with just a week of flirting with them it would have been a lot of pain that it caused them to cry like that." I said to her.

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.

It was stained, and it was real. They melted into the gathering dusk, two ghosts leaving a cathedral of carnage, carrying with them the voices of the damned and the silent, shared knowledge of what they were now capable of, together. —-

The possessive way he fucked me like he both hated and needed me. I forced a grin. “You’re crazy, man. You watch too many movies.” He stepped aside but whispered as I passed, “Run while you still can. He’ll ruin you.” Later that day, I overheard two employees gossiping near the cafeteria. “Did you hear about The Ghost? Some billionaire who shows up masked at underground parties. Pays good money, fucks like a demon, then vanishes. Nobody ever sees his face.” I laughed it off again. But deep inside of me, i was worried for myself.

"He's right, you know. Two years ago, you disappeared into thin air right after informing us the wedding was canceled. We wouldn't have known what happened to you if Ian didn't tell us. What kind of a friend are you anyway?" "That's exactly how I feel. You didn't even bother updating us, and you were late to your own party! You're going to have to pay for that by doing shots." "You got that right! No one's leaving here sober tonight. Let's all have a blast!" Cecily had never met my childhood friends before. Worried that they might not like her, she felt rather nervous. Sensing her uneasiness, I quietly took her hand. Once our eyes met, she felt a lot more reassured.