Real Ghost Stories Novels & Stories

I switch off the lights for extra measure. “So this happened when my mom was 17 years old. One day, she and four of her friends were having a sleepover when they decided to tell ghost stories. So, my mom was narrating a story about a doll that is a medium for dead spirits. People would often call their dead relatives and talk to them. And if you want to call the doll, you have to hold hands and chant, ‘Suzie, please come,’ three times. People named the doll Suzie,” I speed dial, Reed.

After a moment of silence, she whispered, “They say this place is haunted.” Jackson’s jaw tightened as he struggled with a response. Should he admit to her that he agreed with the rumor? Should he tell her that, like Mike and her father, he’d seen and felt things that shouldn’t have been there? He hadn’t even admitted that to the men. He’d only admitted to the place giving him the creeps. Something inside of him kept him from voicing it. It was as if voicing it would make it real. “I saw that woman looking out of the window,” Melody confessed. “She’s not right. She looks dead.”

Because of all the ghost stories she had heard in her life, the ghost always called someone to come to them. Exactly as Fuschia had said just now. “Mi-milady, is that for real? There is such a sound? I didn't hear it tho,” Laura turned to the knight with a questioning look. "I'm sorry lady, but I didn't hear it either." said the knight, still with a worried expression on his face. Laura had already guessed that she would have trouble sleeping for the next few months if tonight she also met the ghost above met the creepy monster! The hairs on her neck stood up. Adding to the fear that bit her skin.

I am fine with that . I gulp . I am pretty sure I locked the door though . ' Just do it . Turn around . Don't be scared . Ghosts aren't real ' I turn around in an instant , almost getting a whiplash and look behind . There was ... Nothing there. I sigh with relief . I must have imagined it . They say that stress and sleep deprivation can affect the brain in many ways that scientists are just beginning to understand . It must be some sort of hallucination . I should get some sleep .

“They were fishermen who had to come to Orsica because they were not catching any fish in their usual fishing areas. A sudden storm forced them to stay on the island and that was when they started seeing the strange things. According to my friend, the fishermen got hunted by the ember ghost and those who disappeared were never heard from again." Jon felt the hair at the back of his neck rise as he listened to the story. It sounded like something that is told over the campfire - untrue, yet still told just to scare people. Still, after what he thought he had seen and felt since he came to the island, he found himself a bit more susceptible to stories such as what the maid was telling. "That's

“Why is that your first thought? Of all the supernatural things, you jump straight to ghosts?” “Yes, ghosts!” she shot back, crossing her arms. “We live in a world where vampires, werewolves, and witches are real, Lia! Ghosts aren’t that far-fetched!” “Okay, okay, fair point,” I conceded, holding up my hands. “And don’t even pretend they’re not real,” she added quickly. “I’ve heard too many stories to believe otherwise.” “Stories, huh?” I smirked. “Let me guess, you heard about some haunted house from a ‘friend of a friend’?”

“No, I guess there were some vandals that broke in and stole all of the tools. So, it will be another five to ten days.” I felt the little hairs on my arms raise. “It’s those ghosts, Candice. I am telling you!” She shivered. “Stop! There is no such thing as ghosts.” I scoffed. “Of course there is. Alice said that when she was a girl, she saw a marble drop right out of the ceiling at the Baker Mansion. And Reena said that somebody pushed her down the stairs!” “What was she doing there? I thought nobody had lived there in fifty years?”

Lyra said, her voice shaking. "Then tell me the truth! Tell me everything!" Silas slammed his forehead against hers, the physical contact deepening the spark until it was a roar in their ears. "Tell me about the nights you spent alone. Tell me about the first time Kaelen shifted. Tell me about the girl who was thrown away!" "The girl who was thrown away is a ghost, Silas! She is a story you tell yourself to feel better about being a monster!"

She found it funny to tell me horror stories before bed. I remembered once returning the favor. I told her about Terry the ghost, a boy who’d died in an accident on the street across from our house. Terry’s ghost wandered our neighbor’s house where his family had once lived. Mom hadn’t slept alone for weeks after that, and she never told me another horror story. My mom was like me in some ways—she was terrified of the paranormal, or anything religious. That’s why her engagement to Bill had been such a shock. But even Mom had gotten braver, so why couldn’t I?

In the moonlight, a woman in a white lace dress was kneeling on the stone steps of the chapel, her face buried in her hands, her shoulders trembling. She had no feet. Below her dress, there was only a swirling black mist. "I see her." Lorenzo let out a low whistle. "Two years ago, Marco put her in the ground right there. Her ashes are buried under the rose bushes behind the chapel." I didn't stop, walking straight toward the chapel. Giovanni froze behind me but didn't dare to call out. As I reached the bottom of the steps, the female ghost's head snapped up. She lunged at me, her face a sickly pale green, her eye sockets empty black pits.