City Of Ghosts Book 2 Novels & Stories

The old man walked to the window and couldn't help but let out a long sigh. The situation was very turbulent now. He always had an indescribable sense of unease in his heart. He hoped this unease would not come true. Otherwise, Miami would no longer be peaceful... In the Nether Realm, it was impossible to tell day from night. Here, it was always an endless night. But everyone knew that the Lich Lord loved lights. Inside Ghostspire Citadel, lights blazed everywhere. Especially in Ghost City, which was so lavish and magnificent that it was known as the Nightless City.

“No, fox. She walks willingly. That is a war you cannot win.” Vincent’s breath came in sharp gasps, his claws dripping blood. He turned around, searching the void. “Camela!” he called out, desperately. The ghost’s laughter echoed through the alley. “You still don’t get it. This isn’t just a street or a city; it’s my world. This place belongs to me. Every wall, every stone, every voice she hears…all belong to me.” The shadows twisted and morphed into doors, windows, and broken lanterns. The city silently rebuilt itself, but the faces peeking from the windows were empty, watching with hollow eyes.

“Are you guys ready to finally do as we were formed to do?” My eyes glared at Callighan as he lifted his head up to the sky. Once that loud howl came from him, we all prepared ourselves as the wolves charged at us altogether. All we could do was fight to our hearts desire. One charged at me and right when I thought life was over for me, the gunshots came right after him. Pow! Pow! Pow! Pow! However, those shots were not enough… -To Be Continued- The End of Book 2

The rain in the city was cold and biting, a sharp contrast to the humid, suffocating metallic tomb they had just left behind. They were ghosts climbing out of a digital grave, smelling of cooling fluid, desperation, and the lingering, sweet rot of M-ESSENCE. They reached a nondescript apartment complex in the lower district—the kind of place where history was easily buried and secrets went to fester. Anji didn't bother turning on the lights. He knew exactly where the shadow in the room was sitting before he even saw the glint of his cigarette in the gloom.

His explanation shocked me , i have never heard such things and I've never believed in ghost theories. "It's getting dark , take this book and go read it " he said and gave me the strange old looking book. "Thank you sir, i have much appreciated your help" i said. Now i knew what it was all about, all those confusions were caused by him, my ghost clone. It was night already and the time was 7: 15 pm . I had to rush home , it was not safe for me to be lonely at this time. When i was passing by a certain basement , i heard a woman crying for help, i stopped to trace where the voice was coming from but the moment i stopped the voice also stopped, i started walking then i heard the woman yelling

“They’re using my ghost to keep the city bleeding. And if I don’t do something, it’ll never end.” Her footsteps were soft as she crossed the room. She pressed her hand flat against my chest, right over the place where my heart was trying to break free. “Then don’t give them your ghost. Give them nothing. And give me everything.” I closed my eyes, leaning into her touch, the storm inside quieting just enough for me to think. She was right. She had always been right. The city wanted my fire, but I didn’t have to burn for it anymore. I could let it starve.

Lucas’s POV The city never sleeps, but it breathes slower after midnight—its heartbeat softened, its pulse quieter, its shadows a little darker, a little thicker, as if waiting to be broken open by something that doesn’t belong. And that’s exactly what I was—a ghost stepping into the mortal world, stalking a scent that didn’t belong to it, wearing the kind of purpose that doesn’t waver, doesn’t pause, and certainly doesn’t ask permission to burn everything in its path.

she went back to the gap looked at the stars as she talked to herself. she wished her life was perfect like what the neighbors thought of it. she went down on her knees and pleaded before going to bed. Baraka, the boy living subsequent house to mercy, was at the dining table by himself, his parents were out on a business trip as usual. after he’s done with his meal, he went to bed, took his phone and called mercy to say goodnight. ‘‘I can bill the gloom in your speech even from the phone, so what’s going on with you?’’ baraka commanded

I whisper, mostly to the wine in my bloodstream. But sleep wins. Somewhere between the fire scene and the big unmasking, my eyelids get too heavy. My body sinks, soft and still, and the last thing I remember is Ghostface swinging that damn knife again. The alarm screams at me hours later like it wants beef. I groan, reach to smack my phone off the nightstand, but I can’t move. Like… I physically cannot move. I’m being held hostage by body heat. My eyes blink open. It’s still kinda dark, but that early morning gray is starting to creep in through the blinds. And I feel him.

But they all felt so fucking real. Jesus! The thought of having sex with a ghost made me sick all over. My stomach knotted as a full-blown terror took root. A fever ran down my body and my skin gallop with goose pimples. "Do you see her?" his question brought me back to reality. I nodded slowly. "So those times I see you talking to yourself, it is her you are talking to?" I motioned. "Jesus!" he exclaimed. "You need deliverance with serious prayers oh!"