The Bathroom Ghost Novelas e Histórias

The bathroom was behind the first door we came out from, a semi-large room with a claw-foot tub and a large shower stall, with a white pedestal sink. Grey dialled up a number as he waited for me outside the bathroom door '' Charles, we have something to discuss. Rug Morgan just called me. Come here as soon as possible.'' his voice was deep and the way he said it, it was more of an order than a request. Was everything alright? '' Are you alright Las?'' Asked Grey, waiting patiently till I was done. I made a loud whimper as I twisted. Grey was scared something happened to me, abruptly he opened the door without knocking. And I screamed as he saw my pants on my kneel I was still on the toilet s

It’s not happening, especially with Ghost's ribs still fucking hurting. I watch as they carry in plates and two piles of clothes. “What are those for?” I ask, unable to stop myself. The men say nothing, simply leaving again without so much as a glance in our direction. “I’m not going to complain,” Ghost mutters, eyeing the fresh clothes. “Clean clothes? That’s a fucking win.” He begins stripping off his worn, ripped clothes and heads toward the bathroom. I follow him, standing in the doorway as he steps into the shower. “You joining me?” he asks, winking over his shoulder.

Someone was standing there, just beyond the threshold of the bathroom. My breath caught in my throat, and my eyes widened in sheer terror. The figure in the mirror remained motionless, a vague silhouette that defied explanation. "My girls," I whispered. With trembling hands, I threw the towel onto the counter and took a cautious step backward. The figure didn't move. It just stood there, a silent, spectral presence. My mind raced, searching for a rational explanation. Perhaps it was a trick of the light, a shadow cast by some object in the room. But no matter how hard I tried to rationalize it, the figure remained, its presence undeniable.

Sebastian gently touched my forehead and then checked my IV line before looking visibly relieved. I stared at him, and my voice came out hoarse. "What happened to me? How did I end up in the hospital?" Frowning, Sebastian replied in displeasure, "A while after you went into the bathroom yesterday, I heard some noise from inside. When I went in, I found you collapsed on the floor." I froze at his words. I recalled the piercing headache I had while showering yesterday before I lost consciousness. I hadn't realized I'd passed out for a whole day.

The only time I entered this room were on, what was his names, insistence, his hands gripping me with a desperation that almost suffocated me below the water on the tub. As I finally take in the entirety of the disordered space, I observe that the bathroom is fully equipped, a new toothbrush lay on the countertop still in its wrapping, and toothpaste much the same. Fruity body wash fit for a woman stands on the shelf by the bath, which is sparkling white and completely empty. The walls seem to close in, painted in a stark shade of white that heightens my sense of entrapment. Yet, in the shadows of my thoughts, a nagging suspicion gnaws at me: is there a hidden camera watching my every move,

I swallowed hard, my legs feeling like jelly as I slowly crept toward the door. Each step felt heavier than the last. My heartbeat pounded so loudly in my ears, I was sure whoever was inside, if anyone was, could hear it. I gently pushed the door open. It creaked softly. I froze. Waited. Listened. Nothing. “…Hello?” I whispered, immediately regretting it. Silence. I stepped inside cautiously. The bathroom was… enormous. And at the center of it was a bath pool. Not a tub. A literal pool carved into the marble floor, filled with water so clear it reflected the ceiling above.

"Where did you go?" "I felt a little under the weather, and decided to pick up some drugs.” His tone of voice had been playful, prompting a roll of my eyes. I began discarding my clothes, intending to head into the bathroom for a shower. “You should’ve gone home to yours from there.” I murmured. A hum rumbled from Ghost, “is my company really that awful?” I agreed. “It is.” The shower’s door slammed shut before Ghost could utter a word. As the burning hot water cascaded down my body, my eyes had continuously moved rapidly across the little screen that displayed the video footages which had been captured during my time away from home.

Emara Stone I switch on the light, then slowly open the bathroom door. I peek my head inside to look if there is Ryan or any hot ghost hiding in the corner, who is waiting to finger me. But the bathroom is empty, just like my wallet. It was just a dream. Nothing happened.

She turns around to leave, and when she is almost near the stairs that she remembers that Elizabeth was crying the whole time and she may get dehydrated. So, she heads back to the room, and without making a noise, she opens the door to peek in. Her eyes landed on the untouched bed, and her eyebrows frow with confusion. “Madam?” She moves towards the bathroom to check. She knocks on the bathroom door and places her ears on the door to listen for any water running sound. When she hears nothing, she opens the door alerting Elizabeth of her entry, “Madam, I’m coming in.” The bathroom is empty. Elizabeth is not there as well. A ghost of fear surrounds her. She a shuddering with the realization wh