Dash Quest Ghost Lantern Novels & Stories

Damon stood in the center, shirt unbuttoned, chest heaving, fists bloodied. “WHERE IS SHE?!” he roared, hurling a silver vase against the wall. The crash echoed like a gunshot. “Two years!” he growled, pacing like a caged animal. “Two years and nothing? No trace, no scent, nothing!” He slammed his palm on the desk, wood cracking. His dark hair clung to his damp forehead, eyes wild. “Boss…” Leo, his head bodyguard, stepped forward cautiously. “We’re still looking. She might really be dead…”

"If you take one step closer to my sister, I'm going to smash your kneecaps." The mercenary actually paused, a flicker of genuine surprise crossing his scarred face. Sterling blood, he thought. "Go to sleep, kid," the Ghost rasped, raising his hand to deploy the sedative dart. He lunged forward. BEEP-BEEP-BEEP-BEEP! A deafening, ear-shattering alarm suddenly exploded, not from the school's speakers, but directly from Liam's tablet.

“Speak it only once at night, To light the ghost and call the fight.” She whispered: “Light the ghost…” Her voice caught. “Ghostlight,” she said. “It’s a trigger word.” Dorian stepped forward. “Say it again. Full phrase.” Isolde placed her hand on the case. Closed her eyes. And spoke clearly, evenly: “Speak it only once at night, To light the ghost and call the fight.” “Ghostlight.” A click. Then another. With a soft mechanical hiss, the case unlocked not with a dramatic flare, but a tired groan. A lid lifted. Inside, lined in black velvet…

*]:pointer-events-auto scroll-mt-[calc(var(--header-height)+min(200px,max(70px,20svh)))]" dir="auto" data-turn-id="88630483-7eb5-4271-b05b-c60c7df0102d" data-testid="conversation-turn-186" data-scroll-anchor="true" data-turn="assistant"> The silence after the Ghost’s disappearance felt heavier than the gunfire. Like the air itself was holding its breath.

The heavy blast doors of the garage ground open, letting in a swirl of blinding white snow. Ashren punched the accelerator, and we shot out into the dark. … The Ghost Road wasn't on any official map. It was an old smuggler's route that bypassed the main highways, cutting through the jagged, frozen ravines of the deep tundra. For the first six hours, the silence in the rover's cabin was absolute, save for the hum of the engine and the howling wind outside. I sat in the passenger seat, my arms wrapped tightly around myself. The rover’s heater was blasting at maximum capacity, making Valen sweat in the backseat. But my breath was still pluming in the air like white smoke.

"I know I was sleeping on it! My question is, how did I get here? I remember sleeping in the bathroom while you, the claimed 'ghost' was here. And I also remember that ghost cannot touch, talk less of carry something or SOMEONE from one spot to another... so?" He smiled knowingly, "You seem to forget that I am also a demon. Basically, half ghost, half demon though the demon side is partially locked away, but I can still disappear and appear with or without something or someone."

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.

"You're scum, Grayson. A cold, heartless bastard. My sister gave you everything, and you gave her nothing. You and that woman will get what's coming to you. Mark my words." When Liam finally exhausted himself, he let Grayson fall to the floor and stormed out, leaving him crumpled and sobbing like a broken man. Later, Liam oversaw my cremation himself. Grayson, hollow-eyed and silent, trailed behind, watching as the flames consumed what remained of me. When it was over, he tried to take my ashes, but Liam stood in his way.

"Shit!" I clung to my Phantom Scooter's half-dead handlebars, flying over a hallway smeared with who-knows-what slime. Dashboard screamed in blood-red: 00:59. A literal death timer. "Overtime termination! Terminate my ass!" I roasted the system six ways to hell and floored it like I was chasing a warp zone. Third floor. Haunted High. The emergency lights flickered puke green over a ghost girl brushing her hair, back turned, dress in tatters.

he clarified. He waited for Paoli to nod in agreement. "All right. I'll keep her in the cockpit with me, then, and manage her for you when we arrive," said the creepy pilot. "Perfect. Thank you, Walter," Paoli said politely but dismissively. The three of them watched Amber be led onto the small aircraft by a night-flying vampire. Emily found herself shaking her head at the strangeness of it all. Two days ago, her life had seemed so much of the same. She was simply chasing her sister into yet another mess she'd gotten herself into.