The Man With The Ghost Novels & Stories

A cold dread, sharper than the chill in the air, shot up from the soles of my feet. The patch of shadow in the corner began to writhe unnaturally, coalescing into a denser form. A human silhouette, darker than the darkness around it, slowly detached itself from the wall. It was tall and gaunt, its entire form wreathed in an impenetrable, smoky blackness. The air grew still and heavy, as if the room itself was holding its breath. Then, a voice, cold and utterly devoid of emotion, sounded not in my ears, but directly in my mind.

I reached out and pressed the radio button on the steering wheel. My voice was cold, cutting through the static. "Mason Vale, do you see a ghost in your mirror?" I said coldly into the radio. Those words pierced straight through Mason's last line of composure. His car hesitated for an obvious instant on the straight. Now. I smashed the throttle down. The car tore through the air and pulled alongside him. Ahead was a chain of fast S-curves. Seeing that I was about to pass, a vicious look flashed through Mason's eyes.

Jack grabbed his wrists, pinning them gentle and firm. “What did you take?” Jack asked, low, straight to the point the way you talk to people on bridges. “White,” the man said. “Little ghost. I could smell—” He stopped and sobbed and shook his head, ashamed by the magic he had believed in an hour ago.

I flipped through the pages slowly, my eyes catching different pieces, a name here, a signature there, everything building a picture I had waited years to finally see clearly. There was a small photograph clipped to one of the pages, slightly faded, showing two men standing outside what looked like the old restaurant, at night. One of them was clearly Adrian. My chest tightened at the sight of my father's murderer standing so casually, like burning down a building filled with innocent people meant absolutely nothing to him. "Who is the other man in this picture?" I asked, pointing at the second figure, his face slightly blurred but still somehow visible. Fredrick leaned over to look. "That's

Lucien’s heavy door stood slightly ajar, and a thin, sickly line of candlelight spilt across the floorboards. She pushed the door open and saw the ghost pacing back and forth between the window and the desk, his hands clasped tightly behind his back, as if he meant to wear a permanent groove into the wood. He stopped dead the second he saw her. He looked more tired and hollowed out than she had ever seen him. "Do not scream," the ghost warned. She did not scream. She simply looked past him. Two men lay motionless on the floor. One had fallen near the doorway, an arm stretched desperately toward the wood, as if he had been nearly out.

asked the man’s associate. “Me and I am going to get them.” The man answered arrogantly. “What did they do to you anyway?” asked the associate. “The right-hand man of the ghost took my woman from me and now she is with another because of him and his family.” The man told him. “I am not helping you fight for another woman.” the man told him “Oh, but you will.” Said Lethabo coming in.

Dizen got a hold of that and he easily swallowed it without wasting any second as if it was his favorite food, “But as what I have told you, I want to believe in them.” “Why?” asked the woman, she just wanted to know the reason why. The man answered, without thinking as if he had already thought about it, “So I will know that when I die, I will have my ghost and I can find you, hunt you, watch you all the time.” “Wooh, so scary!” said the woman as if she was really scared of what he is talking about. Dizen's smirking when he asked, “Oh, so am I ghost now? Awoo!”

I hissed. “That looks like a painful memory” A strange voice said, I turned around and saw A unfamiliar man with pure silver hair, the same color as Logans but not as long and not as pretty. Memory? My eyes scouted this strangers face, he must have been in his late thirties, early forties “Who in the hell are you?” “Just a ghost” “What do you want, Ghost?” I sneered. “I’m busy Looking for someone” “You’re not going to find him here in the in-between pup”

"That man touched my arm. And then we're here." Nate followed where I was pointing and frowned at the man. "Who are you?" He hissed. The man didn't answer and only smiled sadly at Nate. Suddenly, the fog started to lift and the ghost man vanished from our sight. Nate drew me close as we did a 360 view around us. The fog was starting to clear and it was starting to solidify into a familiar setting. Nate and I held hands to keep him with me in this weird dream. "Nate, this is..." I trailed off. Unsure if we're where I think we are.

Manuel said and he places her in the bath tub. “ You mean you have bath for me so many times? When was that? She asks. “ Don’t even start honey “ he says. His cellphone rang. “ Excuse me” He says and goes to pick his cellphone on the bed and he started speaking with the caller on the phone. Evelyn ghost sits on the couch and it will pace around with tears on her face. Evelyn mother and Father goes into their son’s ward and they wept. “I cannot lose my first son, no way” he says.