Haunting Novels & Stories

"I was so frightened by her request that I scared her away. She disappeared and didn't come back until a month later. When she came back, she didn't look sad. She looked really furious. Around that time, my mom was pregnant for him the second time. He lost his job and didn't allow mom to work. For the whole year, bad things began to happen. He even got into a fight with some people and they almost killed him" "I see...The ghost-girl's work" Juana mumbled. "I was too young to understand everything. But I knew some things. The beating got worse when he found out I saw a girl-ghost. I think he was really scared that the girl he killed has come to haunt him down" "The beating?"

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.”

Ghost doesn't exist and evil spirits obviously doesn't exist either. ******

She sooner realizes the phantom that has haunted her steps was born of her imagination, nurtured by fear. The thing that haunted her in the dark was not the monstrosity she had imagined. It was a truth so strange, so alien to her expectations, that it felt like a different kind of nightmare. When the veil of fear is finally lifted, she sees clearly—what had been hunting her was not a demon or a shadow-born fiend, but a reflection of her own misguided terror.

Hazel was startled awake, her whole body trembling. She opened her eyes and saw a dark shadow by her bed. She also heard the sound of dripping water, faint but not enough to make her heart race. Outside, the rain was pouring down, the streetlights dimmer than usual, and wind howling loudly. She shuddered and clutched her blanket tightly, screaming, "Ah! Ghost!" Jack was taken aback by Hazel's reaction, then overwhelmed with anger. Ghost? His handsome face twisted slightly, and he cracked his knuckles.

Diego, Xavier, and Fiona cried together, their voices a raw symphony of terror and heartbreak. "No, Lyra. No, Henry. No one but I rules," I declared, my voice dripping with cold finality. But I was gone. Only darkness remained—thick, consuming, and alive with a sinister promise, a chilling maw whispering of endless torment, a hollow void pregnant with unseen horrors. The shadows seemed to pulse, as if breathing—watching—waiting. The air thickened with a cold, primal dread, as if the world itself recoiled from the encroaching abyss. And within it, something terrible stirred, unseen but felt—a promise of suffering yet to come.

“Is anyone here with me?” I asked, my voice steady but my heart racing. The air around me seemed to thicken, the shadows in the corners deepening as if they were listening, waiting. Silence hung heavy in the air, punctuated only by the faint sound of my breathing. I couldn’t help but feel like an intruder in this haunted space, an unwelcome guest probing into the lives of those long gone. But as the minutes stretched into an eternity, I began to hear it—a soft, disembodied whisper, barely more than a breath.

Katana The midnight fever descended on me, transporting me to another world full of scary ghosts, shadows, and a darkness that was just waiting to pounce upon me. This time around, I found myself in a forest haunted by ghosts of all ages, sizes, and types, kidnapping my mind and taking control of my body. I could hear their footsteps crunching over the ground behind me like a herd of hungry predators. My lungs constricted so tightly it felt as though they were going to explode

The problem I’m having is this: If I allow myself even the slightest bit of wiggle room for the veracity of Father Ward’s story in this journal, the door is opened wide for all sorts of other things. Like a child-devouring demon named Moloch or Baal. An odd yellow taxi and odder coins bearing a strange design popping up all over town. A ghostly boy maybe born of a man’s deep pain and self-loathing. A strange place called Carcosa—with black skies and even blacker stars—where it seems lost people go when they’ve nowhere else. Someone or something named Hastur (a name which runs cold shivers down my spine even thinking it).