True Real Ghost Stories Novels & Stories

FALLING FOR A GHOST 3 - For Nevaeh is back from the land of the dead with a single purpose; avenge her own death and that of her sister, Heaven. Uche, a good-looking young man in his early twenties, who also happens to be an atheist has been unlucky with women in his previous relationships, he seeks true love and hopes to find it if only it existed.

But after all the goosebumps, 'twas just a tree. "Relax," she tangles her arm with mine, "those trees scare the intruders if any. A similitude of scarecrow." "Oh, but you're scared, too." "Of course! This forest is creepy! This is where the tears of our dead pack are preserved. Sometimes, those watch-wolves heard an agonizing howl in here." "Then there are ghosts here?" "That can't be!" I finally made a chuckle for the first time in a while. "That story is just a legend. It's a stupid creed to be true."

She immediately felt a shiver down her spine and urged Hazel to quickly run away, fearing that the ghost in the red dress would appear and chase them. They didn't stop running until they reached an area where a servant was standing, watering the plants. Ivy patted her chest and gasped, "Ooh! I'm so scared! That was too scary!" "Is that story even true? I think stories about ghosts are just made up." Hazel wasn't really scared. She was the type to purely believe in science, therefore she didn't believe in the existence of supernatural beings. "What? Of course, they're true. She's roaming around in the middle of the night, you could even hear someone crying. It's so scary.

Ghosts must be real. The ghost stories here are too many to keep track of, although Leonard knew them all. "Which story is this ghost from, Leonard?" I had a bit of liquid courage left. Leonard didn't answer me but I had hope that he'd hit the security button at his desk. It was a silent alarm. Then it spoke. "I guess you could say a ghost and I share a few things in common, but no love, I'm no ghost. Tethered spirits and lost souls are what humans call "ghosts"."

“About the swamp being haunted?” I nod. Even though we hadn’t grown up together, I’m pretty sure that we both had gotten the same tired ghost stories passed around in the hallways about such places around our hometowns. “I know this sounds crazy, but what if the stories are true?” Her tone is fervent, and her eyes shine with a hot certainty. “Not the witches and stuff. But there is something there, and I think…” She draws in a deep, steadying breath. “I think it’s a demon.”

"But. . . but. . ." "Seriously, there's no such thing as ghosts, or witches, or witch hunters," Gina raged, reaching her limits of patience. "Those are just make-believe scary stories. Lame ones for that matter and if you're so scared by a story told by a sick, dumb girl then you don't deserve to be in the vampire team." "Okay, sheesh! There's no need to get all snappy," Katie said, stepping forward before she turned to the others. "Come on, guys. Let's get this done with."

She looked at him as though she wished she could drag him into the grave to keep me company. "Grayson," my mother-in-law added, her voice shaking as she held out my death certificate. "It's true. Belle is gone. This is the proof." But Grayson didn't even glance at the paper. His expression remained cold and dismissive, his tone steeped in annoyance. "You'd go so far as to fake a death certificate just to keep this charade going? Isn't this a bit much? Aren't you ashamed of yourselves?"

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."

One of the most famous ghosts in the southern states of the USA is "Soap Sally". In the 1950s, there was an old lady soap-maker who walked the streets of the mill villages kidnapping children and murdering them to use the fat in their bodies to make soap. There were numerous reports of people having seen her for years after her death. Every time a child went missing, Soap Sally could be seen wandering the streets, carrying her knapsack full of soap. 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.