This Is Not A Ghost Story Novels & Stories

Maybe there had never been a ghost at all. On the fourth morning, Ben woke from another dreamless sleep with restless energy buzzing beneath his skin. He lay staring at the ceiling, body tight, thoughts spiraling. He considered going out to find someone willing, letting distraction do what reason couldn’t. Then he remembered the last time he’d tried. The chaos. The fear. The anger. If she was angry, she was here. And she hadn’t made a sound in days. Either a ghost was ghosting him, or he had convinced himself of something that wasn’t real. But he wasn't sure it was worth bringing a girl home to provoke a reaction from his ghost.

His hand shook and the glass spilled all over Alina’s dress. His face went ghost-white, peanut shells scattering everywhere as panic filled his eyes. Alina reacted quickly, jumping up and pointing at me. “Who are you? How dare you just barge into someone’s house? Get out!” I did not even look at her. I calmly pulled out a chair and sat down. Then, I slammed the cases of fake liquor onto the table. “Who am I?” I looked around at the relatives, finally landing on my mother-in-law’s ashen face. “Mom, it looks like your memory’s not too good. It’s only been a few days and you don’t even recognize your own official daughter-in-law?”

Well, we're not going on the war without a weapon, aren't we? "Hmm, who might be? I don't recall we're having a guest in the middle of the night," I mumble to myself. "Wait a minute," I halt and think about my phrase, "What if that's not a human? What if this mansion has been hiding some ghost stories and Grayson didn't mention that since I can't handle seeing ghost?" Suddenly the thunderstorm echoed, enough to startled me but not enough to made me scream. But it also enough to give me heart attack and die.

This was the worst, how could I explain it to her, she might not believe in me. " I have told you already, I don't know what a ghost is," I said. "Huh? Really?!" "Okay, you can't touch things because this isn't your world," I explained. "This isn't my world?" She went serious. "Yes, believe me, or not, but it's true!"

​The Ghost-Archive ​"They’re ghosts, Aara," I realized, touching the flickering wall. The static reacted to my "Presence," momentarily forming the shape of a face, a city, a line of alien script, before dissolving back into chaos. "This is what happens when you don't ground your story in the stone. You become a 'Residual-Echo.'"

He steadied her until she stood straight and opened the door. "So what? There is no such thing as ghosts or spirits and besides who knows how far the story is true. It's a stupid story anyway." He said walking into the room, examining the ceiling. "Ssh! She'll hear you." Anya said in low whispers with an index finger fixed on top of her lips.

I looked around and asked her, "Where to first? My childhood?" She chuckled and asked, "Which one?" I looked at her with one brow raised. She shook her head and made a gesture with her hands, "Sorry, I'll back up a bit." "Good idea," I commented. "Before we do this," she said and then clamped her hands together. "I need to tell you something so the things you'll be seeing will make sense." "Well," I say as I recalled what I knew so far. "I know I am not a werewolf and neither is Ryder. I have a ghost mother who claims that she is a fairy-"

[Belladonna's Point of View] People say that November is when spirits come back to the world to meet their loved ones. I don't believe in ghosts. If there were any, I guess mom and aunt Melinda would haunt me right at this very moment. To be honest, ghosts aren't scary at all. Humans are a lot scarier, living life like dead people. I'm looking for an outfit to wear because Jameson asked me to a Halloween party tonight. I guess we'll go trick or treating to different homes just like what chocolate-faced kids do.

Watch your back. I looked over the edge. Rome. My city. Built on blood. Held together by it. Rule 4: Ghosts wear better suits. But they’re still ghosts. And ghosts don’t get happy endings. They get second chances. I’m going to mine

This is the story of a young man with a secret talent who plays good samaritan and finds himself at the center of a battle bigger than himself... but he won't be alone! At least that's part of the gist for now.😅 Now let's see how it goes… ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ "The ghosts in my house wouldn't be so bad if they could just stop trying to cook" which will not appear in this form because it's allowed to work around them and so I did.