Ghost Empire Novels & Stories

Even Nascent Soul Realm cultivators had to fawn over them so they would put in a good word for them at Tianyuan City. Losing his temper, the envoy recited a spell and a whip glittering in gold immediately appeared in his hand. The whip was dubbed the Ghost-beating Whip, designed to strike disobedient demons, devils, ghosts, and monsters. One whip was enough to strip someone off half his life.

☆☆☆ Inside It was foggy within but they could still see what lies buried within the cemetery, they walked stealthily like ghosts trying effectively not to attract unwanted attentions. The Zompires are dead creatures considered to be undead, their existence is a curse and an abomination of the hidden world itself. They are ludicrous and predictable unlike other creatures on the planet, they're visibly blind but attracted to noises and lights. They could transform others at will with just a bite but that differs between species. It hasn't been really tested on a dhampir but Rapidfire was not ready to try that out yet.

The freaky end of days was coming. I faced the camera, my voice steady for all the people in the city to hear. "The freaky apocalypse is here, folks. I'm going to help you out as best I can. First up, find cover where the wind can't get you, subways, basements, factories, banks, any safe spot." Lights flickered on in every underground parking lot. The ground rumbled with a deep roar, setting the stage for Jim as he led his crew of infant spirits into a clash with the Haunts that sliced through the wind.

Whatever lies on the other side of that opening is worse than anything we have seen. Theo lifts his head slowly, as if he can sense us watching. His mouth curves into a smile. “The war is not over,” I say aloud, my voice steady despite the storm inside me. It is only beginning. This time, we know what we are fighting. Immortal beings who do not fear death. Creatures who will not stop until wolves are either perfected or erased. And somewhere in Alaska, a clock has started ticking. If Theo’s gateway opens, the world we know may not survive what comes through it.

It felt heavier than the first. “Midnight,” Leora said, melting back into the graveyard of metal. “Don’t be late. And don’t die before you plug it in. I’d hate for my work to be posthumous.” They were left alone in the rust and the yellow light, holding two thumb drives that contained their salvation and a possible apocalypse. “She’s using us,” Sabe said quietly. “We’re using her,” Anton corrected, gripping the drives tightly. “It’s the only way to fight ghosts. You have to become a ghost yourself, and then you have to turn on the lights.”

Subtle, but I notice everything. Klaus de Luca. He didn’t see me as he entered a room alone. I didn’t hesitate. Silently, smoothly, I followed. The door was just starting to close when— CRASH! A vase flew at my head. I ducked instinctively, the ceramic shattering against the wall behind me. I straightened slowly, blade already drawn. Then I heard his voice. Low. Calculated. “So... you’re the Ghost Knife. The woman with no past. No future. Who sent you ? .”

Paul was my butler. I pulled my hand away and turned to leave with Chloe's urn. Then something slammed into my back. Pain shot through me. I lost my balance and crashed to the ground. The urn slipped from my hands. "No!" I lunged for it. But before I could reach it, a foot kicked it away. "Bad woman! You bullied my mommy! I hate you!" David. The urn hit the ground. The lid popped off. Ashes scattered everywhere. My heart stopped.

POV EMMA BELLE The harbor was a graveyard of broken dreams and twisted metal. Malakai hadn't just brought ships; he had brought an industrial nightmare. From the bowels of the Dreadnought, a new horror had been unleashed: the Iron-Hollows. They were humanoid machines of brass and riveted steel, but they didn't run on coal. Their chest cavities glowed with a sickly, captive violet light—the siphoned essences of shifters who had been captured in the Western Isles.

Then, from the darkness, a figure emerged. The Ghost. He was older, but his presence was as formidable as ever. His piercing blue eyes locked onto Dino, assessing, calculating. “You’ve grown,” the ghost said. His voice was rough, but there was something else there—a trace of regret. Dino didn’t waste time on pleasantries. “Why now?” The ghost exhaled. “Because you’re not just fighting a war, Dino. You’re fighting a trap.” Dino’s eyes narrowed. “Explain.”

[The Ghost Army] The heavy oak door of the wine cellar didn't just open; it exploded inward, reduced to a spray of splinters by a synchronized kinetic charge. Through the dust, four Ghost units moved with a terrifying, insectoid grace. Their tactical visors weren't glowing with the standard blue of the Regency; they were pulsing with a deep, oily black—the mark of the Heir. "Dante!" I screamed, diving behind a row of ancient, dust-covered casks.