Indian Ghosts Stories Novels & Stories

"Well, if you haven't noticed so far, we're investigating a case dating nearly forty years back. So far without any lead to prove it's the work of a person and not what people say it to be." "Ugh, you're talking about that stuff? What did people call it again? Samodivas? You believe the cause of all murders is some forest ghosts?" I burst into laughter. This is ridiculous. "Well, can you prove it otherwise?" His question makes my smile frown. Can I prove it? So far I have had no success. But I refuse to believe the cause of all problems is a ghost. Or more like 'unearthly beautiful spirits that lurk in the nights' if I must quote all the people I interrogated so far.

Epilogue: Now that I have written several of these stories, I find that my old ghosts have started to haunt my dreams yet again. It is amazing that once things are written down, they begin to take on a life of their own. Just remember, if you don’t want things to go bump in the night, don’t tell anyone else about them.

He stood up and walked to where he used to out his books, he took a small but old looking book and came back to where he was sitting, next to me. "I read it in this book , there is a certain theory which say that people might have ghost clones, these clones looks and dresses exactly like the original you and they can do anything you can do. Sometimes if you are lucky you can have a good clone but if you are unlucky you are likely to have a bad and evil clone , which means you are unlucky because yours is evil" he explained. His explanation shocked me , i have never heard such things and I've never believed in ghost theories.

(Of course, female supernatural monsters of all varieties have always used temptation as a lure because we human men are wired the way we are. Historical, pre-Hollywood vampires came in all sorts of varieties from all over the world. The Philippines had their Aswang. Pennangalans terrorized Malaysia and Indonesia. Vetala haunted India. Yara-Ma-Yha-Who sucked the blood of Australian Aborigines. Asasabonsam snatched their victims as they passed under the trees of African jungles.

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.

"How do you know about that mythical creature?" Govind asked, walking deep into the woods. Ghosavasu answered, "I had heard it in mythical stories during my early days. I was once in a country of merchants, and this story of a traveller was particularly popular there." His eyes scanned for dangers lurking around. "What story?" wondered Govind.

77 in cash. The ghost story doesn't end. It just multiplies.