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Afterlife Stories


Phantom Wars Chapter 7

A mysterious new threat reveals itself.

Chapter Seven: MalevolentSpirit After Ethan agreed to be Picario’s roommate, Picario transformed his bed into a bunk bed. It was the same proportions as the first but with a top part attached to it. The two of them then wrestled around for who would be on...

Chapter Six: Roommates Ethan had no time to admire the luxurious lobby of the 94th floor as he arrived there because Picario was already jogging off down the hall to the rooms section. Ethan jogged after him and quickly caught up. Picario said nothing dur...

Chapter Four: Picario When Ethan got into the first floor lounge it was practically empty. There were handfuls of other phantoms standing or sitting around in groups, but they barely made a dent in the massive sized lounge. Now that it wasn’t swarming wit...

Chapter Three: The Next Day Ethan recovered from the shock of seeing his father on the scoreboard long enough to stagger out of the mansion. He bumped into several others on his way out and as soon as he got outside and shut the door behind him, he fell t...

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Heaven, Hell, Afterlife, Schmafterlife…..Just Take It Slow and Enjoy!

No sense rushing if you don’t know where you’re going to wind up!

Some claim after our final breath a soul survives the body’s death and some kind of an afterlife begins. Other’s say that when we die and utter our last earthly cry we’re dust and just wind up in garbage bins! I think it may well be the case that when we...


Will there be inspiration, in the after life?

Do you find inspiration,from the stars above? Do you find inspiration,from another's love? Do you find inspiration,from someone's word? Do you find inspiration,from stories heard? Do you find inspiration,from past memories? Do you find inspiration,from an...

Soul Collectors

Nick was a cop till he was shot; now he's got a job collecting souls. He's after one in particular.

Prologue Christmas seemed a horrible time to kill someone. I never used to like working at that time of year when I was alive, and I still don't. As a cop I tended to deal in misery; the Bad, the Mad and the Sad were my clientèle, and at Christmas the suf...