Hot Ghost Face Novels & Stories

Well, you might as well start reciting your last prayers because these walls might be the last ones you will ever see. It's usually very dark with little or no light, that is the way I like it. Only a few people get to see the face of a Ghost and when they do, they don't live to tell the story. We got to the garage and found the redhead girl sitting in a corner and hugging tightly to her knees. Her once beautiful face was caked with smeared makeup, her eyes were watering with tears, and her body started fidgety the moment she heard the door open and closes.

To protect my vision, I conceal my face with the back of my palms. Now that's a shield. Her voice will do. I don't need to see her face. This is the first time she has ever appeared to me since her passing. In my darkest hour, when I seek her face, she neglects me. What is her reason for showing up like a thief at night? Why does it have to be scary? What message is she trying to convey? I may have been wrong when I said ghosts don't exist. They fucking do now! My wife. She's enough evidence that I need.

He spat out a mouthful of grass and scrambled to his feet. Whoosh! Just then, a ghostly figure materialized 100 meters from Howard, an old woman in her seventies. She surveyed the four elders sprawled on the ground with a gaze as frigid as ice, a palpable aura of death swirling around her. "What the heck? A lady!?" Mystical Chubby blurted out, eyes wide at the sight of the newcomer. "You're not seriously the infamous Betty, are you?" "Weren't you eager to take her on? She's all yours!" Howard said, his face deadpan.

Alice had always been a thorn between us—sharp, immovable, impossible to ignore or remove. I looked at Grayson now and wondered: if he knew I was dead, would he feel relieved that he was finally free of me? Grayson's phone rang. He answered it, not bothering to put it on speaker. I drifted closer, curious. Could it be someone calling to report my death? I studied his face intently, waiting to see his reaction when he learned I was gone. But when I glanced at the screen, I froze. The caller ID displayed my name. The voice that came through the line was unmistakably mine.

Monstrous emotions twirled up in Rosaleen's eyes as she stared back at her reflection from the mirror. What was real pain other than this? She could see bloodstains all over even though she knew they weren't there, but they were there. They stared back at her. Her pupils shook, firing back at the pool of blood. " Rosaleen," her mother howled from the kitchen, a tint of excitement in her voice. This was when she snapped out of her daze.

That was when I finally got a clear look at her face. Well, I wasn't sure how I should put it… If I could ignore her missing facial features, she might have been quite pretty. Quietly, I took two steps back. When the female ghost noticed that I was backing away, she crouched down on the spot and tried her best to radiate friendliness while cautiously scooting toward me. "Don't be scared, little human. I'm a nice ghost," she gently said. "Come here, and I'll feed you some thigh meat."

Immediately a figure appeared from the shadow, hooded, cloaked in a faded brown, his face obscure in the shadows, although veiled, but I could feel the weight of his eyes. I couldn't sense his wolf, and that terrified me more than anything. He stepped closer but not threateningly, his gaze buried at the pendant I was clutching in my hand. "You touched it," he said, looking shocked. I looked from him to the locket, and I didn't say a thing. Exhaling slowly, he pulled back the hood. I gaped, staring at the ghost standing in front of me. I swear I had seen a portrait with this face hanging somewhere in the pack house while the guard led me to this tomb.

Subtle, but I notice everything. Klaus de Luca. He didn’t see me as he entered a room alone. I didn’t hesitate. Silently, smoothly, I followed. The door was just starting to close when— CRASH! A vase flew at my head. I ducked instinctively, the ceramic shattering against the wall behind me. I straightened slowly, blade already drawn. Then I heard his voice. Low. Calculated. “So... you’re the Ghost Knife. The woman with no past. No future. Who sent you ? .”

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."