Boozoo's Ghost Novels & Stories

As he directed the vase at the beast's head, he aimed for its head. My eyes widened as I was taken aback by the ghost's actions. "He's not trying to kill this animal, right?" I murmured to myself, puzzled by the movement of the spirit. The ghost burst out laughing. He was giddy with anticipation for what he was about to accomplish. He pushed the vase up higher. The beast had no idea what was going to happen to him. "Well, if it's this dude, I won't mind if he gets murdered." Despite my astonishment, I felt relieved and free of regret.

I say with a yawn as I tug at his arm. “Of course, Pet. Maybe I should rest as well.” He responds as he gets back in the bed with me. He spoons me as I lay on my side. He puts his arm and leg over me, giving me a weighted blanket effect, and I quickly fall asleep. However, I wish I hadn’t fallen asleep. My dreams start off fine, but then the pretty forest I was running through on a summer evening quickly morphed into the club. The edges of the dream become blurred, signaling I’m in a premonition. Zane and I are talking with Ghost, who is doing drugs, while we sit with him in the VIP lounge. There’s different supernatural drugs mixed with human ones. Ghost is mixing supernatural drugs with hu

Uche spat, “Friends and enemy working together. I will give you one last chance to stand down. Call off your army and I will spare your life and that of your wretched mother.” Bozo did not look at Uche, but the man’s words sent an icy chill down his spine. He'd had enough. He would rather die than let Uche or Nnaji treat him like a chicken. “Mother,” Bozo smiled and took Ejima’s face into his hands, “I am sorry. I wish I had the opportunity to get to know you more.” “What do you mean?” Ejima asked. But Bozo was no longer paying attention. He drove his heel into Ghost’s sides and the horse neighed in delight and started to gallop with a thunderous force towards the two kings.

"Fuck. Where the hell have your mind been?" "I'm sorry." A bit distorted, Ghost took down his legs, adjusting on his chair. He sighed, rubbing his face. "I'm sorry, uh, what were you saying?" "Fuck that. What the hell is wrong with you?" Don Carianoo offered him a glass of whiskey. He took it with a strained puff. "Tell me." "It's nothing. I'm good." Ghost took a sip and lowered his head. He was moody as fuck, he couldn't hide it. So saying it was nothing didn't sound so convincing.

The possessive way he fucked me like he both hated and needed me. I forced a grin. “You’re crazy, man. You watch too many movies.” He stepped aside but whispered as I passed, “Run while you still can. He’ll ruin you.” Later that day, I overheard two employees gossiping near the cafeteria. “Did you hear about The Ghost? Some billionaire who shows up masked at underground parties. Pays good money, fucks like a demon, then vanishes. Nobody ever sees his face.” I laughed it off again. But deep inside of me, i was worried for myself.