Real Ghost Stories To Read Novels & Stories

“You mean the hauntings?” Seraphina leaned in, curious. “I think I heard a little about that. What exactly is going on?” I nodded and took another sip of juice. “Some of the servants say they see ghostly figures floating around the estate at night. Pale shapes moving through the gardens or near the windows. A few have even heard soft whispers when no one is there. Everyone is quite scared and shocked by it.” Zoe shivered a little even though the day was warm. “Do you think ghosts are real? I have never seen one, but my mother used to tell stories about spirits that could not rest.”

“There’ve been whispers. Nothing solid. Just… rumors. There was one I’d heard about a grave.” My brow arched. “A grave?” “Yes. An empty one. They said two corpses lay on either side, drained dry. Whoever stumbled on it swore it was linked to Dracula himself.” I rolled my eyes so hard it hurt. “Dracula? Really? That’s the story floating around? Most of those tales are campfire trash meant to spook kids.” Her frown deepened, though a flicker of curiosity lingered in her gaze. “Maybe. I’ve never seen a vampire myself. Tell me the truth are they trying to spark another war?”

Without thinking, I walked outside, wanting to blend into the vast, frozen world around me. The weight on my shoulders grew heavier, my breathing became more labored, and my limbs began to lose sensation. I walked on numbly. The vast world around me offered no place of belonging. In the haze of my consciousness, a dark figure suddenly appeared in front of me. The person was panting as he reached out a pair of trembling arms to catch me before I fell. Though my body was weak, I still had some weight to me. In the icy cold, the frail arms struggled to carry me. Then, I heard a familiar murmuring in my ears, saying, "You can't die… You can't die…"

The face he was at the window when I drove off was heartbreaking, those silver eyes obscured by a very human worry that I'm growing all too familiar with. The "legends" collection is tucked away in a corner of the library's second floor, exactly where I remember it from my college days when I'd occasionally page through local myths for entertainment. Back then, stories of werewolves and ancient curses were charming, harmless tales told around campfires. Now they're my best hope of discovering what's happening to the man I'm falling in love with. I pull the first book from the shelf. "Legends of the Pacific Northwest" is a battered cover, but the pages are filled with carefully documented tal

Lydia's tone dropped almost to a whisper, Eden almost had to strain her ears to catch exactly what she was saying, fear caressing her words "It isn't just mountaineering accidents and bumps and broken bones like a usual hiking trail. There are... stories. People have been vanishing, without a trace for years in that place. Only a few have come back, and they're, well they're different, not the same people they were when they went.. The things people have said they've experienced there, Shadows of people hiding behind the trees, watching them.... Voices calling to them in the night and footsteps around their campsite. It's not a place you should be, certainly not alone" Eden almost snorted, s

We pray for a while before Father Leonard suddenly stands from where he’s kneeling and comes behind me to pick a nonexistent thing. And then instead of him to go back to where he was kneeling beside Father Michael, he kneels behind me almost kissing my neck as he lowered himself to the ground and then he passed the same nonexistent thing to Father Michael who collected it by stretching his hands in front of me while “accidentally” brushing my breasts. Each accidental touch just made my nipples harder and my pussy wetter. Fuck I have to leave this room before I do something stupid. Finally after hours of almost running mad, we finish with the prayers and I run to my room where I lock the door

By now, we’ve all had more than a few drinks, and we’re halfway between tipsy and passed out. “Let’s tell scary stories,” Laura, one of my friends, suggests. “Are you sure that’s a good idea?” Kara asks. “These woods are spooky at night. I have to be able to sleep, you know.” “Maybe we should call one of those hunky forest rangers for you,” I suggest with a laugh. “He’d better bring a friend,” Laura says. “Or twelve,” Diana, another friend of mine, adds. We all laugh, and Laura starts in on the first story about night walkers, ghostly figures who march through the forest.

Calderon has nodded excitedly, thrilled that Macey, the librarian, has left her seat to check on him, a simple invader. “Cool, I rarely see students marvel through that corner of this library. There are only a few and I could even count them using my ten fingers,” Macey has let out a bitter giggle. “I bet paranormal stories weren't the trend these days. People tend to be more realistic now. Nobody believes in ghosts and creatures aside from scared kids.” “I don't think so. Fantasy stories with vampires and werewolves as characters are gaining attention.” “Really?” “As what I've observed online.”

Anyway, he kept saying that there are horrible creatures that lurk in the darkness here… While growing up he told me the story of the time when he was ten years old, his dog ran out of his family home—this townhome, the home I’m just about my home until my dad gets out of jail and the social worker says I can go back. He goes on and says that he watched his dog die that night being eaten alive by a wolf-like humanoid that he himself barely made it back home to safety. Then there were these stories of the locals being blood-sucking vampires and all the BS surrounding that subject. Oh and the witches of the forest and the great lake—supposedly they lure pregnant women to their deaths and drown