Story About Ghost In English Novels & Stories

I whispered, my words slipping through the air like a sharp blade. Her face paled, and her hands trembled as the realization washed over her. Samantha, the ghost from our past, a specter we had long thought banished to the depths of forgotten memories. Yet here she was, resurfacing like a vengeful spirit, intent on wreaking havoc upon our fragile existence. I moved swiftly, my hands still feverishly gathering our belongings, tying up loose ends. It was a race against time, against the shadow that loomed ominously over us. I refused to let Samantha's malicious intent extinguish the fragile flame of hope that burned within our hearts.

"Everyone has a story, Joan. It's part of the tradition.." I looked at Emily. She smiled encouragingly at me. The room fell silent as they waited for me to begin. I took a deep breath, searching my mind for a story. I remembered a story my mom told me when I was younger. “There was once an old mansion far away from a hidden, forgotten town,” I began “It was said to be haunted by the spirit of a young woman. The woman was a bride who had died on her wedding night.” Sarah and Emily gasped.

“Little ghost.” Next: Shatterpoint

The others reluctantly moved in my direction, shamed into action. “Ah don’t like ghosts,” said Flossy. “How do you know?” I asked her. “You’ve never seen one.” “Ah have. On a school trip to Hatfield House. He had chains on his feet, and he walked through a wall.” “If he’s already chained up, what the fuck are you scared of?”

I just dialed Brandon. “Fran? What happened? You okay?” I decided to overlook the fact that he hadn’t picked up on facetime, and that he sounded wide awake but kinda out of breath. “A new ghost just popped up at the Manor, and she broke Amy’s arm!” I said, fighting back the tears and the lump up my throat. “What!?” “She’s in the study, trashing the place apart! She’s crazy violent and she doesn’t speak English, so we cannot get through to her! Amy tried to cross her over and failed! That bitch is stuck here! What do I do?”

I whispered. Gina was shaking, terror flashing in her eyes. I wish I knew what to tell her but I knew nothing about ghosts. My brothers did but during their time as hunters, they dealt more with the physical. I would have learned about ghouls last in my training and it would have been light reading. "I think this is your unique gift as a vampire," I said since it was the only thing that could explain why she was seeing ghosts in the first place. "Seeing ghosts?" She asked, taking a few careful steps.

"I've seen a few. I know there are different kinds of hauntings. Some ghosts are really just...echoes, I guess, of some traumatic event. Those just repeat the same actions over and over, which rules you out since we're having a lucid conversation. Others are spirits who've chosen, for good or evil, to remain on this plane for some reason, whether it's protecting their descendants, guarding a sacred site or seeking revenge. Finally, there's the type who are here with unfinished business. My guess is you fall into that category since you asked me for help." "I do. You know a lot for such a young man." "Not so young. I'll be thirty-five on Halloween." He stepped out of his chair. "Can you sit?

He shrugged indifferently. I shook my head at Knight, unsure of his angle. “You’re looking for a good time though, and all Pamela is capable of providing is pain. Isn’t that right?” My eyes skewered hers, and from the twitch at the left corner of her lip, she was remembering our time together just as vividly. Her eyes flashed as they landed on Knight. “Oh, I don’t know. I haven’t heard any complaints.” Ghost cocked his head. He freshly buzzed his hair for tonight and it gave him a harsh, military look. “Can’t complain if they’re dead. I’m assuming you can’t speak to the dead, correct?”

“So what do we do, Rowena? How do you fight a ghost who knows you better than you know yourself?” I stared down at the letter, the ink almost burning into my skin, and for a moment I wanted to crumple it, throw it into the fire, pretend it didn’t exist. But I couldn’t. My voice dropped, low and almost defeated as I answered. “You don’t fight a ghost. You wait for it to reveal the place it haunts. And when it does… you make sure it never comes back.”

I'd rather take this to my grave than have Collin know. I'm a tainted victim. My kisses are worthless. My touches are defiled. I am no longer human. I am murdered by the damned. I am a ghost. A ghost that walks through walls unnoticed. Ghosts are there but can't be hurt by the forces of this world. Forget eating, forget therapy, forget Italy, forget Collin... Forget...forget...forget...