Batman Ghost Novels & Stories

“I was in and out of sleep.” “Thoughts of Titanic?” He turned to face her now, and he was sitting more closely than she thought prudent. “Sometimes,” she shrugged. “Most of my ghosts reside elsewhere.” He closed his eyes and turned his head away. “I’m sorry, Meg.” “I don’t need your sympathy either,” she reminded him, though her tone was just as innocent as his had been. “I suppose not,” he admitted, turning back to face her. “But you have it just the same.”

Ghost recognized the marks – supernatural trafficking ring, the same ones who'd tried to buy information about the Iron Fangs' heirs. "Luna," Ghost said quietly, "remember the emergency protocols we practiced?" She nodded, her dual nature responding to the tension. At five, she was already skilled at combining her wolf and druid powers for defense. It happened fast. The stranger dropped his glamour, revealing three more traffickers who'd been cloaked by dark magic. They moved with supernatural speed, clearly enhanced by illegal power boosters. But Ghost was faster. Years of protecting the Iron Fangs' royal family had made him legendary among enforcers. His gun was enchanted with Maya's druid

I snapped, crossing my arms. He grinned and licked his lips. “I can see why he picked you. I’m Ghost, the Beta of Venom,” he said, reaching for my hand. I cringed, but let him take it, he kissed the back of it. Ghost … you certainly will be soon if I can help it. Please don’t haunt me though, that’s all I need. “The walk over here made me get quite a thirst, you have a drink by chance,” I asked, giving my best smile, polite but not overly forced. Something told me this guy didn’t get many females to himself, Beta or not.

What team? “What other team? I thought it was originally you, the Mountains and Tati?” I ask, becoming confused. When Alina chuckles. “She means my little helpers.” We all look at Alina and Cass, and her team chuckle. Little helpers? Little … Oh, for fuck’s sake. “You mean your little assassins?” I say and Alina winks at me. I groan internally. Just great. Alina funds an assassin academy. One of their best is known as Ghost. Ghost is a woman and was high up in the ranks of the Bratva. Not much is known about her, just that she is one of Alina’s best. Then one day she hung up her guns.

Leon panted, scanning the dim corridor as his breath came in uneven bursts. Suddenly, a faint figure emerged out of the shadows—the female ghost. Her face was blurred and indistinct, her presence otherworldly. She didn’t speak but raised a hand that glowed faintly blue, pointing silently in a specific direction. Leon froze, instinctively stepping back half a pace. But time was slipping through his fingers, and hesitation was a luxury he couldn’t afford. Clenching his jaw, he forced himself to follow the ghost’s lead.

“Ghost, control him.” Cursing loudly, Ghost lurched to the side. For a moment it looked like he lost his balance, but that wasn’t the case. He slammed into Damon with a snarl, his face pale from the poison his body was fighting. Damon’s flames flickered but wrapped around them both in tendrils. As the two went careening to the side, Ghost’s ability took hold in small bursts when the two of them vanished, phasing through the wall. Ghost couldn’t turn others incorporeal the same way he could himself. It happened in small bursts and almost always left him recovering for days on end. This time would be worse given the poison.

“You—You can’t—” Ghost moved fast, the cloth twisting around the man’s throat, not choking, just enough to remind him of the line between air and none. He leaned in close, his voice a whisper against the man’s ear. “Who sent you here?” The man tried to laugh, but it cracked into a cough. “You think—” Ghost pulled tighter, just for a heartbeat, then loosened again, letting the man drag in a desperate breath. His pale eyes never blinked. “You think I won’t take you apart piece by piece?” Ghost asked softly. “I buried men alive in Cambodia and listened while they begged me to let the dirt finish the job. Compared to that, you’re a child playing outlaw. So I’ll ask again.”

Then, from the darkness, a figure emerged. The Ghost. He was older, but his presence was as formidable as ever. His piercing blue eyes locked onto Dino, assessing, calculating. “You’ve grown,” the ghost said. His voice was rough, but there was something else there—a trace of regret. Dino didn’t waste time on pleasantries. “Why now?” The ghost exhaled. “Because you’re not just fighting a war, Dino. You’re fighting a trap.” Dino’s eyes narrowed. “Explain.”

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.

His action was futile. The ghost focused on Rian. Her black eyes burned with recognition. Her hatred intensified. "Traitor," the ghost hissed. Her voice tore at the edges of my sanity. "You killed me to save the world. You gave the Mate to the darkness." "She is not the darkness," Rian shouted. He was fighting psychological warfare. "She is the Anchor. She is the cure." The ghost laughed. The sound was dry. It was cold. She plunged her spectral hands into Rian's chest. She did not harm the flesh. She targeted his core.