Black Knight Ghost Novels & Stories

Yosef curiously asked. “Boss said that his father was dealing with Dark Knight’s Shadow and his family one night, then suddenly, there is no news about him after.” “Shadow?” Yosef muttered upon remembering who he is. That’s Black Dragon’s father. D*mn! He thought. “Yes, Shadow. According to Boss, he is one of Dark Knight’s best agents at that time. Boss’ father ambushed him on his own house. After the ambush, only him and his wife were found dead on the house. His children were missing and Boss’ father cannot be found too. Ten years already passed but they didn’t find him or even his dead body. On our term, that means he’s already dead.” Bacchus grimly explains.

He muttered and smiled a sad one before walking out of the room; then, I went close to my body to look at it intently. "I felt his touch. I felt my father's hand holding mine!" I let out when I noticed the four ghosts who just passed through the wall on my right. They must have seen my father walking into my room. One of my new ghost friends is Ericka, who got here three weeks ago because of a motorbike accident, and Lucinda, a middle-aged woman who got a heart attack a month ago. "Really?" Clinton asked in surprise and examined my physical body closely, and Dylan tried to touch my left barefoot.

Amanda tried to copy her decency, she craned her neck, as she skimmed her carefully. Mercy tittered and gushed. “don’t worry I will teach you.” She crooned Angela could barely hear them, her eyes looked at the stairs, she barely paid attention at them. She waited for them eagerly. they walked in; Melina marched on her hounds making a sharp click-clack as they walked down the stairs. Mercy looked mortified as she spoke to them. ‘‘it’s my mom, she loves wearing hounds, you will get used to the sound.’’ Her face said it all; she was pissed with that atmosphere; it must be really eating her up.

* The black cloud finally arrived over the palace spires, and as it parted, hundreds—then thousands—of shifting, translucent shapes began to descend into the courtyard. They were not living, breathing shadow beasts. They were not soldiers of the Moon Guard, nor were they physical dragons. They were ghosts. They were the spectral, weeping remnants of ancient dragon spirits—their colossal forms hollowed out, their scales made of pure, roiling silver-gray smoke, and their eyes glowing with a twisted, crimson madness. Eryx unleashed a deafening roar of pure fury. *"Impossible! The elder councils buried them beneath the crust centuries ago!"* Morwen’s face turned completely pale, her wooden staff

Echo, Knox, and Blaze rush in, separating them by sheer force. “Enough!” Echo barks, dragging Bone back by the collar. Knox plants himself between them, pushing Ghost toward the other side. “You wanna explain this bullshit?” Knox growls, his voice tight with frustration. Ghost wipes a trickle of blood from his lip, still grinning. “Just letting Bone know she’s free. And if she’s free, I’m fucking her all night long.” Bone snarls, fighting against Echo’s grip. “Over my dead body, you are.”

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.

The pain was excruciating and made it too hard for either of us to focus enough so that we could mindlink for help. Two white wolves with black markings found us not much later. They were mirrored images except for the fact that Ghost had a black crescent moon on his chest while Knight had a black full moon with white markings on the inside of it on his chest. The twin wolves went behind a couple of trees that had clothes in them and the twins came back out wearing shorts. Grant held a shirt for me to wear when I shifted. They turned their backs so that I could have privacy while putting the shirt on.

I could hear whispers—low, guttural voices speaking in a language I didn’t understand, their words laced with malice. The tombstone shifted, the stone creaking as it began to rise, revealing a dark, yawning pit beneath it. My heart raced, my breath coming in short, panicked gasps. This was it. The moment we had feared. The witch’s resting place had been disturbed. Suddenly, a bone-chilling wail pierced the air, and a ghostly figure began to rise from the tomb, her form shimmering and translucent. She was cloaked in shadow, her face obscured, but her presence was undeniable. Power radiated off her in waves, and the air crackled with dark magic.

“Natalie, the Raksasa Tribe will cease to exist from today onwards!” Jack roared, looking insane. Then, he pulled out a black token. ‘What is that?!’ Natalie’s brows furrowed when she saw the black token and she suddenly had a bad feeling. The token was completely black and had intricate inscriptions from the Ghost World on it. It also exuded a deathly aura. When Jack held it in his hands, the air became drastically colder.