Faded Wraith Oblivion Novels & Stories

" The samples… I had found them through countless observations, nearly exhausting myself in the process, and now they wanted to take even that from me. A surge of fierce unwillingness rose in my chest. Dragging my nearly frozen body upright, I stood again. The axe was still at my side. I grabbed it and staggered back to where the pipeline had cracked earlier. The flames of revenge burned fiercely in my heart. 'Zachary… Luna… 'You two want to use my life in exchange for her permanent position, right? 'Then let me make sure that you get a permanent assignment… in hell!' Crash! Crash!

I dipped my brush back into the bucket of gray, soapy water and began to scrub again. My hands were raw, the skin cracked from lye and hard labor, but I kept my head down. If I stopped, the Beta’s wife would find a reason to use her whip, and I already had enough scars. My name is Elara Vance. To the world, I am the daughter of Alpha Vance and Luna Vance. I am the biological heir to one of the most powerful bloodlines in the North. But in this pack, I am simply the mistake.

Darkness then swept forward, seizing me like a tidal wave. Unseen POV Isabel shifted in the cellar, her lips parting as if to speak, but the drug kept her still. Beyond the racks, an unseen presence lingered, silent and patient, watching and waiting. From the top of the stairs, the figure watched with a faint smirk tugging at the corners of her lips. Below, Blake Rasta teetered unsteadily, the pack’s infamous drunk, eyes wide and unfocused. A soft whisper floated down, urging him forward.

Bash’s wrist came to her lips and the metallic flavor of blood filled her mouth. “Drink, darling,” Bash whispered as he kissed Gaia’s cheeks and neck. Gaia swallowed the mouthfuls of Sebastian’s offered blood. She tingled and vibrated with the power of it. Bash pulled his wrist away from her and said, “I love you, Gaia. Remember what I told you. You’ll drift off into the darkness. And if you’re lucky, the goddess Selene will welcome you and guide you back. But even if she doesn’t manifest, you’ll feel her presence, and you’ll rise in two days to your immortal life. I’ll be there when you awake.”

Around the center of the Wraith, a circle of bright red, silver, black, and crimson sparks formed. I yelled, "NOW!" and put all of our strength into the Wraith's heart. It was very bright in the forest, and the shadows were moving around wildly. It was a storm of chaos and unity as the molten sparks hit each other. The Wraith screamed as its body, energy, and corruption began to fall apart. Love, ties, and Moonbound power all added to its weight, and it broke apart. After that, there was quiet. The smoke went away. Ashes float in the silver-red light of dawn as the forest shook. The Wraith was gone, though. It had been broken, and its shapes were gone like dust in the wind.

Then, she sighed, a long, drawn-out breath that seemed to carry all the weight of the knowledge she was about to share. “A wraith is the result of a death left unfinished, unresolved,” Alice began, her voice soft but tinged with something dark. “It’s a spirit, yes, but not the kind you might think. It’s not a simple ghost. A wraith is born from agony—pure, uncontrollable anger and resentment. When someone dies in such a way, with so much hatred and pain in their heart, they don’t just fade away. They linger. They transform into something... else.”

“The choice remains, yes—we told you this. But you should be empty: you carry the echo of the cut, you are a scar. Yet you… persist.” The wraith turned its head, looking at Malrick, and drifted toward him. “Severer.” Malrick stood his ground, but I saw a flicker of uncertainty in his eyes. “Ghosts,” he said, his voice hard, “you have no power here—you are just memories.” “We are the after,” the wraith’s voice hissed in our minds, “we are the consequence you created. You used the shard of oblivion, you cut a thread of the world’s making. You did not just break a bond—you made a wound.”

He took a step forward— And the ground beneath them trembled. A deafening howl split the air, primal and enraged. Shadows shifted in the ruins below, moving unnaturally fast. Then, from the darkness, they emerged. Wraiths. Not quite werewolf, not quite human—twisted beings caught between forms, their bodies flickering as if reality struggled to contain them. Their eyes burned with unnatural fire, and their snarls carried the weight of the damned. Bram drew his blade. “I hate this place.” Freya’s daggers gleamed as she fell into a ready stance. “We hold our ground.”

“They’ve locked the Node in a self-destructive feedback loop. It’s absorbing its own energy and burning out from the inside. We can’t transmit the sterilization cancellation code to the atmosphere until we break the obsidian and free the crystal to resonate at its natural frequency.” ​But as we stepped tentatively toward the dark pillar, the shadows at the very edge of the hall began to lengthen, detach themselves from the stones, and move toward us. They weren’t the bio-mechanical soldiers of the Vane Corporation, and they weren't the mercury-mutated Hollowed. ​They were the Wraiths of the North.