Novel & Cerita True Real Ghost Stories

Just calm steel. The man’s swollen lips split into a grin, blood staining his teeth. “Yeah. It’s fucking hilarious.” He spat to the side, red hitting the floor. “The great Ghost. The interrogator. The boogeyman in the jungle. You’ve spent your whole life making men talk. But the one truth you should’ve known? You never even saw it.” Ghost tilted his head slightly. His knife spun between his fingers, a flicker of steel that caught the light. “What truth?”

The photograph was the same young woman. My grandmother. The real Garcia. The live comments erupted. “So THAT is the real Garcia? Then who’s the woman next to him?” “The letters say it plainly. And he just said he ‘rejected’ her. Lying without batting an eye.” “So the real Garcia was abandoned in the rural West. Who is this fake Garcia? This is insane.” Daniel Harrington’s lips pressed into a thin line. He gripped the table. His fingertips were white. A bead of sweat ran down his forehead.

I choked out, "Jake, is it really you? Are you Jake?" He woke up completely then, reaching over to switch on the bedside lamp. Concern filled his eyes as he asked me, "Of course, it's me. What's with the waterworks, babe?" I touched his face with trembling fingers, feeling the warmth of his skin to reassure myself this wasn't a dream. "I think… I had a really, really long nightmare. In it, you disappeared, and nobody in the world remembered you. I even married someone else—" Jake laughed softly and pulled me into his arms. "You silly fool. Dreams are always the opposite of reality. I'm right here. I've always been here."

Not like a ghost. Not like a secret. It's like a home listening to a good story.

In 1983 a Mrs Carson of New York was laid out in our coffin, presumed dead of hear disease. As mourners watched, she suddenly sat up, alive as you or I. Unfortunately her daughter dropped dead of fright on the spot. I don't own any of this stories. I found them in some creepy books. I'm thinking of writing my own scary stories, but not anytime soon. You can send me your short stories for a feature if you feel like it. Thanks for reading. Enjoy!I don't own any of this stories. I found them in some creepy books. I'm thinking of writing my own scary stories, but not anytime soon.

Tru nodded at me without another word and left the room. I finally found a plumber not scared of the town legend or the very real ghosts, and all I could think to ask is, why the hell is he not scared of the ghosts? I’m not sure what made me look up, but when I did, it was to see the ghost still floating mutely. What the hell does she want? To terrify me? Make me lose my mind? Guess what? Her very existence and that of others like her were already close to tipping me over the edge. I was so done with all of their shenanigans and the mind games.

They continued their piracy and made the Spanish pirate islands their home. The Red Captain continued as a notorious pirate who gave birth to a long tradition of the pirate family, The Ghost Pirates. They were called ghosts because in one of his forays, Red encountered a prominent mage who was making his journey to study the magic of the wild continent. He was a difficult opponent for the pirates, but as they were more, they ended up beating the peaceful travelers and the mage. Many pirates died that day, but the reward was invaluable. Red found a camouflage spell that once used the spell would be passed from parent to child. The spell was not yet complete and since Red had just slit the mag

I said. "So today is the day where you publish your newest book and it's called The Real Deal. Can you tell us briefly what it is about?" The MC asked and I smiled nodding. "Well.. I don't want to spoil anything but it's based on my own love life. I wrote this book for my boyfriend, Ares, just to thank him for everything." I said and I turned to see Ares standing beside my dad. He smiled widely at me and I turned to the audience again nervously.

“Why is that your first thought? Of all the supernatural things, you jump straight to ghosts?” “Yes, ghosts!” she shot back, crossing her arms. “We live in a world where vampires, werewolves, and witches are real, Lia! Ghosts aren’t that far-fetched!” “Okay, okay, fair point,” I conceded, holding up my hands. “And don’t even pretend they’re not real,” she added quickly. “I’ve heard too many stories to believe otherwise.” “Stories, huh?” I smirked. “Let me guess, you heard about some haunted house from a ‘friend of a friend’?”