Took: A Ghost Story Novels & Stories

they broke into a loud laugh as they shared some joke. Merindale did not care. She followed the seniors around, admiring the intricate details on the walls. It was painted beautifully with stories from Immortal history. “Hey there, newbie. You know about the ghost that haunts these halls, right?" Merindale was taken aback at the sudden question directed at her. She paused and looked back at the senior questioning her. Her eyes wide open. "A ghost?" "Oh yeah," he continued, his voice dropping to a dramatic whisper. "Legend has it that the Ghost of Lysandra prowls these very grounds. She's said to snatch unsuspecting newcomers like you.”

She leered and asked, “The Ghost we summoned, introduce thyself.” “I am the Ghost of Michigan. Dead for 17000 years. I was waiting for a powerful individual to call me for years, and today, you did the impossible. You woke me up. Tell me what you ask, and I shall grant you the answer, plan and the lead,” a voice chorused from the walls of the room. It was heavy, filled with menace. “How should I kill the demon who killed my brother?” “By taking over the body that’s in front of you. I shall give you the power to roast and toast the monster in him,” the ghost answered. It mastered the body swap.

Olivia was about to ask the deity when a powerful suction blocked her voice and pulled her into an endless black hole. At the same time, the 9th space began to be like a broken glass gradually cracked… The space changed rapidly after then… Another light appeared and vanished the whole 9th space. There was nothing left. Only a small, gentle light remained.

GHOST Ember stared into his pantry as if it had personally wronged her, the neat rows of supplies standing in silent judgment of the turmoil she refused to name. She wasn’t rummaging or grabbing anything, just standing there with her shoulders tight and her jaw clenched, breathing a little too fast for someone who claimed she was coping just fine with the storm and everything else the night had dumped on her. Ghost stayed where he was, rooted by the far counter with deliberate distance, not because he didn’t want to be closer, but because the desire to close that gap was already burning too hot, too insistent for comfort. He already knew what she was going to take before her hand even lifted

My 'disputed' abilities were all post-college employment, thank you very much. Did the ghosts possess me/tell me to do things? I was not possessed and, discounting sexual bondage and my current work venue, had never been possessed. From my limited exposure, ghosts wanted to not be alone in the afterlife – to be guided to a final resting place with others of their kind/family/friends. None had taught me languages, asked me to steal something, or kill anyone.

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.” ---

Just poured himself a coffee, black and bitter, and leaned against the counter like the weight of the building could hold him steady. Ghost appeared like he always did, silent and sudden, leaning in the doorway with a cigarette burning low. His pale eyes cut across the room, landing on Rhett, steady and unblinking. “You didn’t sleep,” Ghost said. Not a question. A fact. Rhett took a swallow of coffee that burned all the way down. “Didn’t need to.”

"Most women, after being sold out by their own father, would have cried. Instead, you turned around and started negotiating percentages with a ghost." "That's because tears don't pay the bills." "See?" He smiled, his eyes growing deeper. "A woman like you. One second you're calculating profits, the next you're walking into a warehouse to record a confession for me." He pulled me sharply. I fell against him, one hand bracing on his chest, my nose almost touching his chin. He smelled faintly of cedar and whiskey. "Let's try this," he said, his voice low, a whisper against my ear. "You said it yourself. You have to test a ghost to know if you can trust him."

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.

to you, ma'am. "Actually, these records were requested once before by Nicky. He said he'd pass them to you. Didn't he ever give them to you...?" Adeline stared blankly at her phone. Her memories felt like they were fracturing apart. "Samuel's heart... given to me..." She whispered to herself, her voice hollow, "No. That's impossible. That coward—that selfish coward—would never die for me! I don't believe it." I watched her with a sad, helpless smile. My father had already told her I was dead, but he never told her why. He didn't want to burden her with guilt.