Ghosts of the Ancient Past - Egypt
Egypt
Even by the predynastic period (c. 6000 - c. 3150 BCE) getting into the afterlife, called Sekhet-A'Aru or the field of reeds/rushes, and making sure that it was set up perfectly (at least for the wealthiest portion of the population) was a high priority, the idea of a ghost returning would have been seen as extremely serious (Mark 2014). This isn't a side-effect of being deemed unworthy and having your soul devoured by Amut. In that case, someone would cease to exist, this other development is much more involved. Layed out in detail here, there were extensive plans and a multitude of contingency plans in case families couldn't make offerings to their dead relatives, so they wouldn't starve or go thirsty in the afterlife.
Depending on the period of time one looks at, there were either 5 or 9 parts of the soul (khu - in later periods). Two of these components are the Ka and Ba, the spirit's vital essence and the personality, which were combined to be the Akh or Ikhu - the immortal self, the ꜣḫ "(magically) effective one" (Allen 2000). It could have been believed that the combining process was only possible if the proper funerary rites were performed. Causing problems for the deceased when those rites are not followed.
~ (David 2003)
This concept of the dead varied over the long history of ancient Egyptian belief, but relative to the afterlife, the akh (ꜣḫ) generally represented the deceased, who had been transfigured and was often identified with light (Bolshakov 2002: 7). It was associated with thought, not as an action of the mind, but as the intellect as a living entity. The akh also played a role in the afterlife because following the death of the ẖt (physical body), the ba (bꜣ) 𓅽 and ka (kꜣ) 𓂓 were reunited to reanimate the akh. (Andrews, C., & Wasserman, J. 2008). The reanimation of the ꜣḫ was only possible if the proper funeral rites were executed and followed by constant offerings. The ritual was called s-ꜣḫ "make (a dead person) into a living akh". From this the akh would become a roaming ghost if the tomb was not in order anymore, starting majorly in the Twentieth Dynasty. An akh could do either harm or good to people who are still alive, depending on the circumstances, such as causing nightmares, feelings of guilt, sickness, etc. and could be invoked using prayers or via written letters left in the tomb's offering chapel. For the good, the akh could help living family members by intervening in disputes, and by making appeals to other dead persons or deities with more authority to influence things on earth. And the latter could be for the betterment of an individual or to inflict punishments. To keep a 'ghost' from being trapped between this world and the afterlife there needed to be a major separation of the akh. But, because there was a risk of dying again, the specific unification of the ka and ba needed to be brought about [hopefully right after death] using the proper offerings made and knowing the proper spells. Egyptian funerary literature (such as the Coffin Texts and the Book of the Dead) was intended to aid the deceased in "not dying a second time" and to aid in becoming an akh." (Andrews, C., & Wasserman, J. 2008).
An Egyptian Ghost Story
The story is in fragments, the beginning and ending are lost but with the continued tropes of stories, researchers fit typical story beats back in. Thus, it's implied that the story begins with an unnamed man who had to spend the night next to a tomb in the Theban Necropolis and was awakened by a ghost. The man then went to the High Priest of Amun, Khonsuemheb, and told him about his adventure.
The surviving text begins with "Khonsuemheb calling the gods from his rooftop, in order to summon the ghost. When the ghost comes, Khonsuemheb asks his name, and the ghost claims to be Nebusemekh, son of Ankhmen and of the lady Tamshas. Khonsuemheb offers to rebuild a new tomb and provide a gilded ziziphus–wood coffin for the ghost in order to make him peaceful, but the ghost is unpersuaded by the high priest's intentions. Khonsuemheb, sitting next to the ghost, cries and wishes to share his unfortunate fate by depriving himself of food, water, air, and daylight. Then Nebusemekh tells of his past life when he was an overseer of the treasuries and military official under pharaoh Rahotep. When he died in the summer of regnal year 14 of pharaoh Mentuhotep, this ruler provided him with a canopic set, an alabaster sarcophagus, and a ten-cubits shaft tomb. However, over the centuries the tomb partially collapsed, thus allowing the wind to reach the burial chamber. He also revealed that before Khonsuemheb, others offered to rebuild his grave without actually honoring their promise. Khonsuemheb says to the ghost that he will comply with any of his requests and offers to send ten of his servants to make daily offerings at his grave, but the ghost laments that the latter idea is of no use.
"At this point, the text breaks and the next fragment reports the efforts of three men sent by Khonsuemheb in search of a suitable place to build a new tomb for the ghost. They eventually find the ideal place at Deir el-Bahari, near the causeway of the mortuary temple of pharaoh Mentuhotep II. The men return to Karnak, where Khonsuemheb is officiating, and report to him about the place they found. Then, the joyful Khonsuemheb informs the deputy of the estate of Amun, Menkau, about his plan." (Ritner, et al. 1972)
While the text ends there, it is likely that Khonsuemheb succeeded in his plan of helping and pacifying the ghost and he was able to return to the afterlife.
This story perfectly demonstrates the ghost tropes of haunting a particular location, fixing any trouble with burial rites, and dealing with unfinished business. And it's helpful that these ghost tropes are in the surviving fragments. It's a bit unclear when the story was written, but we do know that it has to be after Mentuhotep II died around 2009 BCE during the 11th dynasty since the plan was to build the new tomb near the pharaoh's temple.
And sometimes ghosts show up to enact specific revenge. In a letter found in a tomb from the New Kingdom, a widower pleads with the spirit of his wife to leave him alone as he is innocent of any wrongdoing after experiencing a stream of bad luck. It was attributed to some "sin" he hid from his wife and now that she was all-knowing in the Field of Reeds, she was punishing him.
What wicked thing have I done to thee that I should have come to this evil pass? What have I done to thee? But what thou hast done to me is to have laid hands on me although I had nothing wicked to thee. From the time I lived with thee as thy husband down to today, what have I done to thee that I need hide? When thou didst sicken of the illness which thou hadst, I caused a master-physician to be fetched…I spent eight months without eating and drinking like a man. I wept exceedingly together with my household in front of my street-quarter. I gave linen clothes to wrap thee and left no benefit undone that had to be performed for thee. And now, behold, I have spent three years alone without entering into a house, though it is not right that one like me should have to do it. This have I done for thy sake. But, behold, thou dost not know good from bad. (Nardo, 32)
[The "jealous ex-girlfriend" trope rears its ugly head.]
It's lucky that, in these particular stories, the ghosts were fully formed souls. If the soul combination ritual had not gone through they wouldn't be "full". Instead, the ghosts would have returned as spirits of pure anger or vengeance, with little hope of satiating them.