Ghost And König Fanart Novels & Stories

The lines started to become more polished as the intelligence of the beasts increased until they became beautiful and majestic. The one that stuck out the most for David was the painting of a skeleton. It had 12 blood-red wings coming from its back, two pairs of horns grew on its head, and a red heart was glowing on its chest. It was pointing at the sky, and its flaming eyes looked upwards. Surrounding him were kneeling figures, some were tall, others were short, some were alive, some were ghosts. But all of them respectfully bowed to the existence that the skeleton was signaling. Skeletor looked with interest at the painting and tried to touch it with his bony fingers, but a hand stopped hi

"Just her fingernails are more beautiful than your whole being. You know what? You can have the room to yourself." I picked up a pillow and left, banging the door so hard that the entire house shook. KINGDOM OF THE GHOSTS OF TERROR A multitude of naked figures could be seen in the dark all sitting before a terrifying figure sitting on a throne with a golden crown on his head. From the aura, he was exuding and how all the figures before him slightly bowed their heads to him, it was obvious that he was their king. A great terrifying scary king with a scar so deep running across his cheek down to his jaw. He was merely sitting yet was towering over everyone. It can't be mistaken to call him a g

The cover was embossed with a symbol that looked like a twisted, enraged claw mark. Nate crossed the room, the ghost sense of Kieran’s touch still tingling on his skin. He stood beside his chair, close enough to feel the warmth coming from him, and peered down at the pages. The script was old, but the images were brutally clear: depictions of wolves, but different. They were monstrously big, their musculature exaggerated and vicious, with four separate, scary sets of fangs in their gaping maws.

He stood up and walked to where he used to out his books, he took a small but old looking book and came back to where he was sitting, next to me. "I read it in this book , there is a certain theory which say that people might have ghost clones, these clones looks and dresses exactly like the original you and they can do anything you can do. Sometimes if you are lucky you can have a good clone but if you are unlucky you are likely to have a bad and evil clone , which means you are unlucky because yours is evil" he explained. His explanation shocked me , i have never heard such things and I've never believed in ghost theories.

With a final shove, he slammed Grayson against the cold metal of the morgue drawer. "This is her. Look at her! Look at the woman you abandoned—my sister!" Liam's voice was an icy blade, sharp and cutting. He forced Grayson to stare at my frozen body, lying there, still and lifeless. Grayson shut his eyes tight, his lips trembling as he muttered incoherently, "No, no, this isn't Belle. This can't be her! She's selfish, cruel, and vindictive. Someone like that doesn't just die—she wouldn't—she couldn't."

He wasted no time weaving through the mass of spirits as he barreled across the charred ground to the mess house. Roy braved a look in Angel’s direction. Jackson was right. She was getting uncomfortably close and the spirits that had proven themselves lethal by tearing Harold into pieces only to become like zombies were acting a bit more animated. “Did ya make that change in the spirits? Is it yer magic that’s keeping them calm?”

I raised my bow slowly, but suddenly, paint pigment began to color the white hart, showing me images of past, present, and future. "You're bewitched?" I whispered, gazing intently. I saw father doing strange rites to Eleleth. All etched on the white hart's fur. The Morningstar's spirit descended upon King Hakkon, then possessed him with sterile cold, his eyes became full white, his skin became gray, and deathly light bloomed in father's wake. The white hart opened its mouth and spoke in father's voice:

They were pulled into the world created by the middle-aged man, and their disappearance went unnoticed by the two parties who were busy attacking each other outside the palace. The ghost general continued flying into the palace, arriving at a door painted with the figure of a woman holding a white sword. Above her, various birds flew around the beautiful woman in the painting. She was seated in a forest setting. Seeing the woman made the ghost general smile softly, his heart feeling better after seeing the woman in the painting. "We will definitely meet. Just wait!" said the ghost general, then he pushed the door open and inside was the devil king, who was still sitting with his eyes closed.

I smile and walk down the red carpet toward my throne. Walk up three steps and twirled around, hitting my cape for a climatic effect as I sat down, crossing a leg over the other. Bastion appears on my side. The look on the three princes' faces as my Phantom Knights and other servants surrounded them. They have never seen humanoid animals and monsters living in the castle as my servants. They feel uncomfortable and threatened by how they could be easily killed on my orders. The princes had also never seen Bastian, a ghoul with gray-blue skin and bright white eyes, stand next to me as ghouls are considered flesh-eating monsters who can take on the form of the person they ate.

"Wait. I need to know. Why did, uhm, whatever, carelessly pick me?" "Go back." The woman wasn't paying her any attention. She kept on plucking cowries and attaching them to her head. "What is he? Oh, don't answer that one. He's a ghost. I know that. Why is he in that state? No, no, why can I see him? Why can l feel his touch, ghosts can't do that, can they? What does he need me for?" The old woman stopped her scaly hands from further movements and stared directly at Geneva through her foggy eyes that obviously saw clearly.