Ghost Eyes Novels & Stories

Matteo stood by the door, one hand resting smoothly on his gun. I stayed seated, eyes fixed keenly on Ghost. Waiting. Watching. Every minute seemed to drag endlessly and slowly. Painful slow. Ghost’s fingers suddenly stopped and his back straightened and then he scratched his unkempt beards. He leaned in near the screen, lowering his glasses and peering at the screen like he was born blind. " What's it?" Matteo asked. Ghost did not answer at first. He squinted at the screen again and leaned back with a low whoosh and pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose .

My breath hitched. The shadows weren’t just moving. They were watching. A figure stood just beyond the fire’s reach. Tall, grotesquely thin, its elongated limbs too long for its body. Its skin was a pale, sickly grey, stretched tight over its bones. It had no eyes. Just black, cavernous sockets. And yet—I felt its gaze. The whisper returned, curling around me like cold fingers. “Come closer.” The voice slithered into my mind, a sickly sweet invitation that sent ice through my veins.

Even as Ghost took a deep breath, his entire body spasmed as if each part had their own thoughts. "Did you know how much pain I'd put myself through for power, just to stop Torrent's pursuit?!" "Are those… Grey eyes?" Skyler paused when she saw those eyes stitched into Ghost's belly. "Indeed!" Ghost laughed maniacally amid Skyler's shock. "Did you think I was hiding in the hospital to acquire a body compatible with the power of the spiritron vein? "Well, you're wrong! I've since slain three scumbags, each wielding the power of the spiritron vein as well, and grafted their remains to my own body!"

Devin whispered. I furrowed my brows. “What notice?” “This.” He showed me a one-fourth white index card and a message was written on it in dark violet ink. I am coming for the Spider’s Eyes during the night of the waning crescent. I would appreciate it if you would come and play with me, but I guarantee you, little detectives, I am not your ordinary thief. – Ghost Hand A ghost winking and with a laughing smile holding out a high-five was drawn right beside the signature of his name. I smirked as I recognized the insignia.

His gaze with the extra slow speed of a snail turned around in the direction of the cold coming from and his eyes upon seeing the ice like sharp eyes of the handsome and powerful man in front of him. He gulped in fear before averting his gaze which then landed on his wife standing beside him who had a sly grin on his face. Beth was trying hard not to laugh upon seeing her husband's frightened gaze. She loved him but sometimes he can just be too silly. "He....he...he....he's here?" Ryan almost whispered, pointing towards Xander as of he just saw a live ghost coming out of a horror movie and scaring him with his cold eyes. It was still early in the morning so how can a ghost be here?

I whispered. Gina was shaking, terror flashing in her eyes. I wish I knew what to tell her but I knew nothing about ghosts. My brothers did but during their time as hunters, they dealt more with the physical. I would have learned about ghouls last in my training and it would have been light reading. "I think this is your unique gift as a vampire," I said since it was the only thing that could explain why she was seeing ghosts in the first place. "Seeing ghosts?" She asked, taking a few careful steps.

ALPHA TAHIRA CHAPTER 99 AIDEN'S POV. It was hard to concentrate as my gaze was fixed on Tahira, she was acting on the blood rage. Luckily for us, this creature hasn't trespassed the gate so we just went out to attack them. These were not invisible Gars or any sort of unseen creatures. These were large and ugly Hydes with big eyes to devour anyone's soul. They were scary as fuck and any mistake to trespass past the gates line, my family is doomed.

[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.

“Already there.” Sparks arced from the west tower as his team cut their own lines; if the enemy wanted to chew on our nerves, they’d get dead cables and a shock for dessert. Ghost’s people used grapnels to haul up the chassis of a heavier drone, ripping its belly open and feeding it grenades until it coughed smoke. “Eyes on ground,” Ghost said. “They’re not just machines.”

"Did he really think blood-binding meant anything to me?” “I wrote the first contracts in spilled divine ichor—mortal bonds are merely... quaint." The other versions of me stagger too, feeling the rupture, and for a moment we're united in shared loss and rage. But then the Ghost-me appears behind me—when did she move?—and whispers in my ear with breath like winter fog: "He's not gone. Look deeper, sister-self. Look into the spaces between the mirrors." And she's right. In the crystalline surfaces that surround us, in the infinite reflections of the Second Door's mercury flesh, I can see him.