Mykelti Williamson Ghost Story Novels & Stories

Gideon lets out a barking laugh but doesn’t say anything about the bed or the collection of whips and things on the floor. Ghost is standing right outside of the bedroom door; he’s so close that Gideon almost slams into him, but Ghost seems completely unbothered. He’s got a massive smile on his face and he’s holding out a velvet blue box while looking directly at me. “Glow worms shouldn’t be this happy.” I mutter, which only makes Ghost smile more and Gideon laugh a little as he steps to the side. I watch in horror as Ghost drops to one knee, holds up the little velvet box and bows his head so low I can see the back of his pale neck.

It was a lot to take in. I needed a long time to process it all. My ghostly roommate was actually a legendary former employee of my own company. I closed my laptop with mixed emotions. “So… did the accident trap you here?” After a long silence, Nathaniel’s voice echoed softly in my head. It was faint, almost hazy. “It wasn’t an accident.” My heart dropped. Before I could ask for details, the voice vanished. The next few days at the office were quiet.

She reacted to his fiery kiss with equal fervour as he bit her lips, prying his tongue into her mouth. It was a strange phenomenon. Ghosts could not be touched or seen by normal people. But the custom of a ghost marriage binds a couple in such a way, that they can invoke passions in each other as well. Chaerin felt desire, sexual attraction and felt every touch of Joonjae's.

Jennet nodded her head, “Yeah, it’s spooky indeed. I was uneasy from the first day I moved into that villa. You know, I felt as if someone was watching me. Constantly watching…” Marvina glanced at her with knitted brows. "But, how did you know it's a female ghost? Have you seen it?" "Well, last night I had a nightmare about her. It was so vivid and I could see her long golden hair. She was much taller than me or probably taller than an average woman and…she had fair skin." She explained. It was still fresh in her mind about the tall figure in her bathroom and the long hair that was all over her when she was in bed. It was a frightful night indeed. She wished not to see the same dream again.

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.

Matt remained immune to it. A few chunks of pumpkin teeth charged at his face, nipping him, scraping at his nose while he wriggled in pain, his lower body unaffected with the sudden stab. “Stop.” The Ghost of Michigan ordered, and the teeth halted in the air, they swallowed the sound in their mouth as they revolted against the ghost in the air who seemed to be moving at a faster rate than them. A baleful hoot echoed in the devilish lake. Matt eyed the silhouette in fear, his anxiety finally coming to the surface. He began to lose his composure seeing the way the silhouette looked angry, ready to blast him any second. There was no escape route, rather a hell hole of agony that laid in front

Cans of gasoline & diesel fuel lying on the dirt floors. As I move further inside, the dust particles reflect the flashlight from my phone, giving off a shimmering effect. I worry not about snakes, roaches, or any winged insect that would suddenly fly into me. All I could my attention was the presence prowling through the corner. I could feel him. He doesn’t even bother to silence his footsteps, following closely behind me. “What now? Aren’t you going to tell me who my phantom is?” I gibed, pivoting on my heels so quickly, hoping to catch a glimpse of him, but I met none.

Not with me. “Wait,” William said, grabbing my hand. “I'll pay for the pickles I smashed,” I said, keeping my voice very neutral. I didn't get some more for Melanie but she'd have to forgive me. The ghost from my childhood was alive. William looked like I had insulted him. I suddenly felt bad. “That's not why I'm calling you back. What's wrong? I can't know if you don't tell me.” He said. “You want to know?” I asked. “I thought you were dead, William. I came back from school and found your house empty. They said you up and left just like that. It hurt me but at least, you were free from our town.”

‎But as I lie there in his arms, listening to his breathing even out, I know the truth. ‎Mikhail is still there. ‎In the shadows. ‎In my blood. ‎In the way my body remembers him even when I’m in another man’s arms. ‎And I don’t know how to kill a ghost that lives inside me. ‎ ‎Mikhail.... ‎I’m still on the balcony, city lights mocking me from below, when the phone rings. ‎I down the rest of the whiskey before going in to answer it. My mother. ‎I answer." Mama?"

William asked, his voice softening. Camelia blinked, the mention of their meta-narrative catching her off guard. "The novel? William, that was a game we played to survive the isolation. It’s not real." "Isn't it?" William moved a step closer, close enough that he could smell the faint scent of jasmine and ozone that always clung to her. "For ten years, we’ve been writing this story. The Architect and the Ghost. In the beginning, they were trying to find each other. Then they were trying to save the world. But in the final chapters, the Architect realizes that while he was trapped in his cage, the Ghost became the warden."