The Ghost That Lives In The Doll นิยาย & เรื่องราว

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.

The red shadow turned out to be the old man who had rushed out from the secret room below the tower. His eyes swept across the place, finally landing upon Alex. “It’s you, the one who dealt with my ghost doll? Hand it over immediately, and I may still leave behind a dried-up corpse of your body.” Usually, when other people said this, they would say, ‘leave your corpse intact’. He was telling him that he would leave a mummified corpse behind directly. Alex looked at the old man; the murderous intent inside him intensified.

How do you perform surgery on a ghost? “Benson please " she whispered. She touched the glass. Her finger brushed against the doll’s knuckles. The coldness was deep in her bones. Suddenly the black car behind them hit their bumper. BAM! The car jumped forward. Maya was thrown against the seat. The computer tower slid across the floor. The wires stretched tight. “Do not let the plug fall out!" the Writer yelled. Maya scrambled onto the floor. Her hands reached for the tower. The doll was out now. Her head and one shoulder were through the laptop screen. She looked like a broken toy coming to life. Her movements were jerky and wrong.

Ordinary cats don’t collect souls like someone collecting butterflies. But those were questions for the initiated. For the curious. For those who, like Lara, knocked on my door once and never returned. “Is she comfortable in there?” I asked the cat, which blinked slowly. “She’s going to be here for a long time.” The doll vibrated. An almost imperceptible vibration, as if something inside it was struggling against the fabric walls. I smiled. “It’s no use kicking, dear. You cast the spell. You activated the circle. You spilled blood.”

In an abandoned warehouse, my mother was tied up in the middle of the open floor, her body covered in bloody slash marks. She looked up at the woman before her, her face twisted in pain. "Adeline... I'm your mother-in-law. How could you do this to me?" Adeline Malone paused mid-motion while touching up her makeup. A cold smirk curved her red lips, her beautiful face dripping with contempt. "Then tell your selfish son to crawl out of hiding. Do that, and I'll let the rest of you go."

Tasha was devastated about the reality of her being a ghost. She thought she was dead, she had dreams. Even if she acted like a slut whose only interests were parties and getting boys hard for fun. She wanted to be a doctor, just to save lives. But everything was never gonna happen for her, and she thought everything had ended for her.

DENZEL "Aren't you curious to know how he knows? I'm the only one who knows everything. I'm a ghost after all. One that only you can see," she said, her grin widening. Letting out a sigh, I rubbed my forehead and closed my eyes. "What did you do?" I said. "I possessed a living vessel," she giggled and my eyes shot open. "Of course I can possess the living, you didn't know that? It only works with weak people though. For example, your beloved mate," she stated, her tone dripping with mockery.

She looked at him as though she wished she could drag him into the grave to keep me company. "Grayson," my mother-in-law added, her voice shaking as she held out my death certificate. "It's true. Belle is gone. This is the proof." But Grayson didn't even glance at the paper. His expression remained cold and dismissive, his tone steeped in annoyance. "You'd go so far as to fake a death certificate just to keep this charade going? Isn't this a bit much? Aren't you ashamed of yourselves?"

"She's mocking us." "Or leading us," Kael mutters, nudging the skull with his muzzle. It dissolves into smoke, leaving behind a scent I know too well-burnt honey and rot. The Mother's signature. But the Mother is dead. *Isn't she?* A shadow detaches from the trees. Not a wolf. Not a crow. A child, her form flickering between solid and spectral, her eyes hollow pits. She holds a doll-*my* doll, the one I pulled from the Hollowshriek's ashes. Its button eyes are sewn shut with thorny thread.

A tray of luxury I didn’t ask for. I stepped forward, snatched the dress, and turned to the maid. “Tell Elijah…” I paused, cracking a grin. “…the Ghost Knife doesn’t go anywhere without her blades.” ---