Misguided Ghosts Novels & Stories

“The question is if it really matters.” I joined Brett’s surprise at her words. She smiled. “There’s a lot of debate around what ghosts actually are. Are they what’s left of a person’s energy or are they actual souls? If they’re souls, it makes sense to hurry to help them move on. But I’m inclined to agree with my mentor’s theory, that they’re the remaining of people’s egos, not their soul.” “You lost me,” I said.

Maisy Things don't make sense when you are face to face with the dead. Two of them. Of all the secrets revealed today, The realization that I was one of them hit harder than any pain I could ever feel. I was a monster. It didn't look real and I definitely didn't want it to feel real but here it was, I could see ghosts. "What do they want in return Maisy?" Eric's trembling voice echoed. I turned in his direction then back at the spirits before me. The words lingered in my throat a little longer than they should have but I managed to say them.

“I don’t get it. You said spirits and ghosts. Isn’t a spirit a ghost?” She shook her head. “A spirit is free flowing and intelligent. It knows no boundaries and can come and go at will. A ghost is basically trapped energy. Ghost hunters often refer to them as residual energy. Ghosts often don’t realize that they died. If they do, they aren’t able to understand where to go and what to do, so they cling to the familiar.” “Can I ask you something without you getting upset with me?” I stammered, hesitantly.

I’m an idiot... Aiden’s an idiot... I’m walking myself right back into this impossible idea of destined soulmates… my God I’m a bad romance trope… he didn’t trust me… I didn’t trust him… he thought I was leaving him… I was leaving him, because he didn’t trust me… but he was right not to trust me… I brought the ghosts… I killed all of them… the ghosts followed my orders… They’re not people, they’re monsters… Aiden thinks he’s a monster… He’s not the monster…

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.

“I was in and out of sleep.” “Thoughts of Titanic?” He turned to face her now, and he was sitting more closely than she thought prudent. “Sometimes,” she shrugged. “Most of my ghosts reside elsewhere.” He closed his eyes and turned his head away. “I’m sorry, Meg.” “I don’t need your sympathy either,” she reminded him, though her tone was just as innocent as his had been. “I suppose not,” he admitted, turning back to face her. “But you have it just the same.”

He was tense earlier because of the stares, but I'm sure he was enjoying their adoration of him. Ghosts don't favor crowded spaces. Their real name is Myles McCormick, aka Ghost. He's only a few years younger than me before he joined the team. He has been given the name Ghost because of his code name. He is good at not being spotted. He's a great master of disguise, and you wouldn't think twice to know who or where he is. He's like a wandering ghost who came to fuck you.

At a gathering with friends, my boyfriend, Donovan McPherson, suggested we play a game of “I Have, Have You?” The winner would get to make one request of him. Everyone there knew I had been trying to get him to make me, Celeste Campbell, Mrs. McPherson for five years, and for as long he had not obliged. Now they all assumed he was giving me a chance. So, tacitly aligned, everyone held back to let me win. But his childhood sweetheart, Lily Kensington, would not relent. “Donovan watched the first snowfall with me. “He gave me a scarf he knitted with his own hands. “The tattoo on his wrist is my initials. “His passenger seat is permanently adjusted to fit my height.” After those four, I had onl

, but it is a hot spot for the wannabe freaks in town. “I don’t do ghosts, but I know someone that does.” For the first time in a while, I feel excited. “Maybe we can hitch over to Mysteria and we-” “It doesn’t have to do with ghosts.” Carden’s straightforward, monotone reply has me glaring at him in the rearview mirror and my excitement bursts into flames, burning slowly and painfully. His features soften as he meets my hard stare. “But if we ever encounter ghosts, we’ll consider it.”

DISMAY. Consternation and distress, typically caused by something unexpected. A feeling of disappointment or sadness. Driven by the devastating revelation that Josh was not only Dylan's doctor but his death was connected to Dylan, Anna hurriedly returned to her apartment—Hannah's old residence. While the police had concluded their investigation into the recent break-in as an unsuccessful search for valuables, Anna's intuition (and her new information about Hannah) told her otherwise. As she walked over towards her apartment, the cold dread in her stomach coiled tighter with every step. The familiar route to her neighbourhood felt alien now, haunted by the ghost of Hannah and the tragic spect