The Bathroom Ghost Novels & Stories

As the other newcomers hastily tried to escape through the bathroom side, they caught sight of a faint, ethereal figure in the mirror, attached at the back of the washroom. “ It's the ghost. They weren't lying. She is real, ” one of them yelled and the rest followed suit. Fear echoed through the marbeled walls, sending a chill down everyone's spine. They scrambled out of the window too scared for their dear life, even though they were all immortal offsprings. “ Pathetic, ” Merindale seemed very offended by their behavior. Despite the trembling fear in the air, Merindale felt a strange tug at her heart. As the others fled in terror, she hesitated, her gaze fixed on the ghostly apparition.

Was she seeing someone else? Suddenly, I heard a loud banging on the bathroom door. I quickly turned off the water and wrapped a towel around myself. "Who is it?" I asked, trying to sound brave. "It's me, the woman from the front desk," came the reply. I cautiously opened the door and saw the woman standing there, looking worried. "What's going on?" I asked, feeling my heart race. "There's something you should know," she said, her voice trembling. "This place is haunted. People have disappeared here before."

I turn the shower on until the water runs scalding hot, letting it beat against my shoulders and back, washing away the lingering, stagnant residue of an eight-day siege. When I finally step out, wrapping a heavy towel around my waist, the room is thick with white steam. I wipe my hand across the massive vanity mirror. The condensation clears, leaving a perfect circle of cool, polished glass. I look at the reflection staring back at me, and my hands slowly drop to my sides. I barely recognize the woman in the glass. Three weeks ago, I stood in a different bathroom, and looked at a translucent, weeping ghost. I looked at a fragile, paper-thin victim who had been systematically hollowed out by

The only time I entered this room were on, what was his names, insistence, his hands gripping me with a desperation that almost suffocated me below the water on the tub. As I finally take in the entirety of the disordered space, I observe that the bathroom is fully equipped, a new toothbrush lay on the countertop still in its wrapping, and toothpaste much the same. Fruity body wash fit for a woman stands on the shelf by the bath, which is sparkling white and completely empty. The walls seem to close in, painted in a stark shade of white that heightens my sense of entrapment. Yet, in the shadows of my thoughts, a nagging suspicion gnaws at me: is there a hidden camera watching my every move,

“There. Go on.” And just like that, everything I rehearsed for just a few careless seconds starts to unravel. My stomach lurches. I didn’t expect there to be a bathroom here—not in this upstairs room, not so conveniently close. The one Claire told me about is on the lower level, tucked behind the auction floor. That bathroom—the one with the secret passage, the fake wall, the decoy body waiting. That’s the one I was supposed to vanish into. I didn’t prepare for this.

Bella muttered, rushing through the hallways in search of the door that led to it. "Voilà!" she exclaimed as she found it and hurried inside. She finally relieved herself after holding it in for so long. Feeling refreshed, she flushed the toilet and walked out of the bathroom. The bathroom felt unnervingly cold — not the kind of chill from air-conditioning, but the hollow, lifeless kind that seeps into your bones. The fluorescent lights buzzed faintly above, flickering against the sterile white tiles that gleamed too perfectly, too still. The echo of dripping water from a loose tap filled the silence, and Bella's reflection in the mirror looked almost ghostly beneath the harsh light.

Emara Stone I switch on the light, then slowly open the bathroom door. I peek my head inside to look if there is Ryan or any hot ghost hiding in the corner, who is waiting to finger me. But the bathroom is empty, just like my wallet. It was just a dream. Nothing happened.

I met his concerned gaze and replied, "He's okay now, he just has to go for check-ups occasionally." Suddenly, Jasper's panicked voice filled the room. "Ah! Mommy, there's a ghost in the bathroom!" he shrieked, bursting out of the bathroom. Micheal stopped stirring and turned to Jasper with a playful look on his face. "A ghost? Are you daydreaming?" he teased, his eyes sparkling. Just as I prepared to explain, Kian emerged from the bathroom, a towel wrapped around his waist, his muscular chest glistening with water droplets. My heart fluttered as I sensed an unspoken tension in the air.

None. Swaying my hips as I walk is definitely on purpose. The dangerous waters I’m treading on beckon for me to come closer, to drown myself in them. The thought of it sends shivers up and down my spine—hot and cold, interchanging at nerve endings I never knew existed. I’ve seen how my men get when they’re pushed to the edge. We walk past a couple of rooms before reaching the bathroom. The guest bathroom is revealed at the end of the hallway. It’s never used, but I always have the cleaning lady work on it regardless.

She leads me into the bathroom, her strong hand guiding me at the small of my back. When we came to the doorstep, she looked at the bathroom with disgust firing rapid Mandarin that I could not understand or dared to translate into my head. She switched on the lights but it was no better than the bulb over the cot. The lights were every exorcist telling of paranormal, it automatically turned on and off with a buzzing sound which only added to the creepiness of the bathroom.