When Ghosts Come Home Novels & Stories

He stood up and walked to where he used to out his books, he took a small but old looking book and came back to where he was sitting, next to me. "I read it in this book , there is a certain theory which say that people might have ghost clones, these clones looks and dresses exactly like the original you and they can do anything you can do. Sometimes if you are lucky you can have a good clone but if you are unlucky you are likely to have a bad and evil clone , which means you are unlucky because yours is evil" he explained. His explanation shocked me , i have never heard such things and I've never believed in ghost theories.

He stares at me. Then leans in. Not close enough to kiss. Just close enough to make it personal. “You feel familiar,” he says, voice low. “It bothers me.” I meet his eyes. Say nothing. He doesn’t pull back. “And it intrigues me.” Still silent. “Good night, Mr. Cross,” I say as I smile. Soft. Cold. And I walk away. Because that’s what ghosts do. They haunt. And then they vanish.

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."

The leader went to hell being chained and whipped by all the ghosts. Agatha sighed as the ghost disappeared. She looked up into the night sky and thought, “Where is my home?”

The room flickered for a moment; suddenly it wasn’t her bed anymore—it transformed into that black chamber again with chains on the walls, locks on the doors, and gloved hands reaching out. The man’s voice overlapped with another, echoing in the air—the ghost's whisper. “You see? She chooses me.” Camela’s chest rose and fell rapidly as she forced herself to keep lying. “Yes. I choose you,” she responded. The ghost's laughter rang out from every direction. The man straightened up, with a look of satisfaction. “Then you’ll never leave this bed.” Camela went stiff with shock. “What?” "You don’t need doors anymore. You don't need to run, lock anything, or utter prayers. You’ve come back home."

" She was terrified. She trembled and clapped her hand on her mouth? It was awkward because the mansion was encircled by a concrete wall fence. "It couldn't have been an intruder. Perhaps it was a roaming dog, but they didn't own any in the mansion. It couldn't be a dog because there was no way it could have jumped over the wall fence unless it had wings. She was confused. "Oh, mother Mary, I am scared." She hauled the blanket over her head shaking tremendously. Suddenly she vividly recollected the story about ghosts; Her mother had once told her that in some families, the dead return during the night to haunt their enemies or watch over their loved ones.

It stood out amidst the silence of the underground parking lot. Colene didn't notice it as she was busy texting and replying to her father's questions. Gabriella pursed her lips and lowered her gaze. She had an inexplicably bad feeling that the footsteps belonged to Henry. However, he shouldn't have been able to enter. "Gabby." A familiar voice rang out behind her. Gabriella was silent. She looked over and stared at Henry. She furrowed her eyebrows and asked, "Why are you here?" Henry strode towards her and replied, "The apartment in this residence is not bad, so I bought one."

Bryce furrowed his forehead furrowed out of confusion. "They only show what others want to see and want to know about them. I knew some ghosts. They are highly classified and dangerous. Some of them are secret agents, while others are assassins. If you push the wrong button, they'll come after you and kill you. No one will know who did it. They'll come out clean. That is why they are ghosts. Take it from me; if you want to know more about your ex-wife, you do the investigation. She won't suspect you. Less hassle and less expense." "What if you talk to the ghosts, you know?"

Julia The traffic picks up as we get further downtown, but it's still not long before Riley announces that we are home. Home, not his home, just home, and I am not sure what to make of it. This is his home, not ours... wait, this is the Royal Towers Hotel. It's one of the biggest buildings downtown and one of the most expensive. Only the richest of the rich stay here because of the stinkingly high price tag. What are we doing here? This can't be where he lives, surely.

After checking with the security guard, Wendy finally found out that the research had begun, and no one was coming out until it was over. "How long will it take?" Wendy asked desperately. The guard told her the projected completion date was about a year and a half from now. Wendy flew back to Rockshire in a gloomy haze. Once she got back to the house and lay on the bed, she felt as though the house she'd lived in for five years had turned into an icy chamber. No one was going to tend to her when she was sick anymore. No one was going to call out her name. No one was going to leave a light on for her when she came home late at night.