Zak Bagans Book I Am Haunted Novels & Stories

she said as she entered the office “What's this?” I pointed to the pastry bag and coffee on my table, Martha looked confused “I did not put that there sir” “Then who did?” “It was me sir” I turned to look at the culprit “I was the one that put it there, I wanted to apologize for the incident sir” “You may leave Martha.” I waited for Martha to leave the room before I turned to her. “Miss Mia.” “Sir” “ Is it hard for you to understand that I don't want to talk or think about the situation that occurred in my room or is it the image of me you can't get out of your head?” I said with a stern look.

She must save her granddaughter from the same fate that claimed her father. The Jacksons share a common trait: a relentless, unyielding stubbornness. Granny Minama knew this too well. It’s why she regretted ever introducing Demika to the cursed Book of Shadows and leaving her alone with it. The darkness had been calling to Demika, whispering in a language only she could hear, pulling her deeper into its abyss. Granny Minama could see it in her granddaughter’s eyes—eyes now as black as the void, reflecting the demonic forces that sought to devour her soul.

I crawl onto the bed, pull the quilt to my chin, and open the book. The pages are thick, cream-colored, smelling faintly of iron and old smoke. No preface. No warnings. Just script that flows like liquid shadow, easy to read even in the dim light. The first chapter is titled simply: *Awakening the Veil*. I trace the words with a trembling finger. Diagrams of circles and sigils stare back at me—some I recognize from Father’s public rituals, others twisted, darker, hungry. Instructions for calling shades. For binding spirits. For raising what should stay buried.

But the fear that had been gnawing at her for days pushed her forward. She opened the book. The first pages were cold, filled with business notes and travel schedules. But as she flipped forward, the handwriting changed—it became jagged, frantic, and deeply personal. Her eyes landed on a single sentence near the end: Some ghosts don’t stay buried because they were never dead. A chill crept down her spine, turning her blood to ice. Before she could process the words, the lights throughout the estate flickered once, buzzed, and died. The house fell into absolute, suffocating darkness.

I even received a huge bonus. On the day I got the bonus, the very first thing I did was seek out my landlord. I bought the so-called haunted apartment. From now on, it would be my home. That night, after finishing all the paperwork, I went home. There was no dinner on the table, which was a first in a number of months. The apartment was quiet, and I didn't sense Ivy's presence anywhere. My heart felt strangely empty. I walked over to the table and saw a familiar pink sticky note lying there. The handwriting on it was fainter than ever, as if it would disappear into the air at any moment.

he said, before strolling out of the tent. Zande sighed after he was gone. She got up from the rug, and began to organize the bags which Amia had packed up, as Amia had also left in the company of Prest and Rich perhaps to check out the other tent which was kept aside for the boys. She was about to pick up the little book from the table when suddenly, she perceived a weird scent coming from the back of the tent like the scent of a dead animal. Cocking her head to one side, she advanced toward that end, her heartbeat palpating a bit, for not knowing what she could find out. She was just about to open the tent vertical panel, when an ugly stricken man with literally no flesh, just bones, grabb

Wyatt heard a man’s voice say. “NO! It’s your fault thinking that covering money that was never going to be directly touched by her in your energy would actually work, It’s not my fault you and your siblings are so damn stupid. It’s really amazing that Abaddon lets you even attempt to collect souls.” That time it was Daniel.

Zach laughs, wrapping his arms around the man’s neck. But the man’s face is carved in horror. “If you’re here… that means…” His words trail off as realization sinks in. “My visions were right.” He sets Zach down and lunges for the bookshelf. His hands shake as he flips through a heavy, weathered tome, eyes racing across the pages. He mutters something under his breath, and then— Zach begins to fade. Slowly, piece by piece, he vanishes from the room. “No,” I whisper. “No, no, no—”

“I saw all of the dead girls. They were impaled on dead trees, and there was a this…this thing with red eyes standing guard around them.” Azazel frowns and gestures to a nearby chair. “Tell us everything and start from the beginning.” Without another word, I maneuver her wavering form toward the empty chair. Amara gives me a grateful smile and slumps down. We wait with bated breath as she sits there and begins her story. “When I touched the book, it looked like the words were flowing to me. Then, there was this glow…” She stops and looks at the book again as if waiting for it to do it again. “When I woke up, I was in another place. The world…the world was covered in cinder like someone burne

"He took my life, my identity, and now he's living with my name, my degrees. How can I just let that go?" I gave his back a comforting pat and met his gaze. "In a few days, when the weird end of days rolls in, we'll make him pay." Jim gave a small nod, his skin cooling down, no longer fired by my blood. Right then, I noticed something odd, the weak Haunts that had barely any strength were suddenly frantically feasting on my leftover blood. Their once translucent bodies filled with vigor as they started to circle and swoop around me. "I've got a plan!"