True Real Ghost Stories Novels & Stories

Before he could react, his phone rang urgently. "Hello?" A cold voice answered, "Mr. Hart, we received a report. We found a woman's corpse at one of your rental properties."

Ghost ain't even real but still it's kinda scary. “Wait, do you think it's a great idea going in?" I said as Kaleb was about to enter inside after opening the door. He paused, taking his eyes to me. “Don't tell me you are scared? I can assure you there ain't no ghosts living here." He said with a smug smile. “I ain't scared." I lied. “Good, let's go in." He said then walked into the room. I swallowed down softly and followed him. *

This isn’t just a party — it’s a goddamn masquerade of killers and liars. Mafia kings, cartel lords, their mistresses, and enemies in disguise. Everyone in here has killed people or sent someone to die. Everyone is armed, even when pretending to flirt. Men with tattoos that tell stories of loyalty and blood. Women with eyes like poison. And me? I’m the ghost they’ve heard of but never seen. I felt the heat of every eye on my ass as I glide through the hall. Good. Let them look. I reach for a glass of champagne from a passing tray and take a sip. Cold.

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.

Wallace gulped nervously, asking, “Is this the rumored diabolical reaper, Mr. Rockefeller?” “Master, I think that is nothing more than mere folklore. Ghosts do not exist in our world. This is just an illusion!” said Jim. Wallace smacked his student on the head. “What do you know? There is more to this world than we will ever understand! The diabolical reaper really exists. I witnessed one in my younger days. Instances of its appearance had also been recorded in various literature passed down through the generations. Unfortunately, I was never allowed to learn the art of shamanistic healing,” Wallace said with a tinge of regret in his reply.

and so, only to Daniella, I’ll be frank and admit it, “I’m scared of ghosts.” Daniella chuckles, it seems like she isn’t afraid of ghosts. She mentions, “Actually they are not that scary.” Ugh, “They are not scary?” Excuse me? Are you kidding me? Have you watched The Conjuring? I scoff, “They scared the shit out of me! And it was just in the movies! Who knows what happens if I see them in real life!” “Well not the real ones!” Daniella mentions, “Those in the haunted house are fake, they are humans, or maybe just puppets on mechanisms! They aren’t that scary!”

he closes the lid of his laptop then puts it on the side table. "Then watch movie with me." "I don't like horror movie. It's all fake.” "There ARE ghosts in this world, Honey. Ghosts, spirits, haunted houses. They are most definitely real." He makes a face, a ‘meh’ face, "Can we play a game? Something stimulating, not just sit and scream watching this ridiculous movie." I'm gonna let that comment about this movie being ridiculous slides, simply because he pays me good. If he's one of my younger siblings, he would've been kicked somewhere the moment that word comes out.

Birdy nodded in agreement, "It is time for the ghost stories to begin and be spread. Stories of a pack of wolves that live nowhere but everywhere, who rescue the weak, broken, and unchampioned, taking those they rescue away with them and disappearing with no clues to who they are or where they came from." ​Three gods and one vampire nodded in agreement. "Let the fun begin. Go lay the groundwork to make the stories true when our wolves awake," Hyperion ordered. ​Cronos snickered, "This is going to be so much fun. I am glad Gaia is letting me loose to help lend credence to the stories." ​"What good are the stories without those needed to make them come true?" Bob wondered out loud.

The smell of rotting flesh seem to seep out of the coffin. In the end, we had to have a closed burial for him. ++++++++++ Death offers us so many tnrills and chills. And in most cases, it's not even personal experiences that drive us a bit off the edge when we hear those stories. But again, I would like to remind you that some of these stories may or not be real, but it is the absolute truth for those who shared those tales. So once again, I bid you farewell from The Supernatural Spa, dear reader. This has been your Storyteller, The Diwata, saying goodnight and we hope to see you soon.