Ghost Cry Novels & Stories

The fakir who was driving the car went alert. Alexander was sitting beside Amara. He brings her to his chest and tries to find a solution to the dangerous situation created by the ghost. Just as an idea strikes him, a picture of Victor falls from the wings of the bird which had a cross mark. Was Victor already dead? Amara's complete body was on a shock. "Is grand daddy already dead, Alex? Won't I ever be able to see him?" Amara asked unable to believe her own words and broke to a yowl.

Grey. She’d conducted controlled interviews online with actual blood drinkers and even dissected the corpses brought to her doctor's lab. Who believes in paranormal stuff? Doctor Grey knew that vampires, shape-shifters, and other creatures of the night existed, even though her coworkers on the quantum physics side of the equation had not been privy to the truth. So, maybe someone had found out and this was a simple joke? Maybe her dreams had no connection.

I had to find something I could do to make money that I could be discrete enough to accomplish without drawing the attention of the massive amount of people I managed to successfully piss off by means of killing the under-lord, Christian. That led to my current livelihood of being an assassin. I started out with nothing more than the knife that killed my mother, Christian’s belt and sheath, and my rags cut, sewed, and repurposed into a disguise to hide my hair and face. I was sloppy in the beginning, and it was a wonder I’d never been caught. As the years passed, I became the most efficient, deadly, mysterious, and untraceable assassin. I entered unseen, killed in silence, and vanished witho

“What is it?” His eyes never left the monitor. “You might want to see this.” “I am seeing it.” “No.” He shook his head with a quiet laugh. “Keep looking.” I narrowed my eyes and scanned the information in front of me. At first… Nothing. Just usernames, encrypted traffic, anonymous forums, and data moving across the screen. Then one name caught my attention. Ghost. Beside the name were two simple words. Recently online. I froze. Ash immediately went silent. The room seemed quieter all at once. Ghost. Everyone in the underground knew that name. Everyone on the dark web respected it. Some feared it. Ghost never failed. Ghost never left evidence behind. Ghost simply got the job done.

The tombstone glowed faintly in the dark soil. Vincent staggered back, his claws scraping against the stone. His name was etched into the granite—Vincent Fox. A growl tore from his throat. "No..." he gasped for breath. "No!" The ground beneath him rumbled as if something buried deep wanted to break free. From the shadows, the ghost’s whisper slid through the air: “She buried you with her. The grave doesn’t belong to her anymore; It belongs to you.”

Blood covered the walls the night my best friend, Cody Colfax, was murdered. His body twisted and twitched before my eyes, like a fish out of water splashing around on a boardwalk without anyone to put him back. The possession of his body from the unknown source, the scientists call 'The Ghost,' has haunted the bystanders for weeks now. When we found him, his body was half-naked and covered in ashes. The hairs on his arms were fried by the electrical chords wrapped around his arms. The tattoos on his body were symbolic, otherworldly. The Ghost left them there to make their presence known.

My breath was choked up in my throat seeing her state. She was drenched with her own blood that camouflaged with her red shimmering torn dress. Blood blanketed her entire face. Her flesh was torn all over by the shards of the crystal chandelier. Some shards even stayed still on her cheeks. What caught my eyes were the lines of ripped flesh across both of her cheeks from the corners of her lips up to her ears. “Why do ghosts appear with a face before they die?” I quivered and looked away. “She desires something that’s why she hasn’t crossed over yet,” Grip opened up.