Ghost Gate Chapter 1 Novelas e Histórias

“And even if doctors could help in this situation, I would have no knowledge on how. I left all my knowledge behind while I reincarnated.” I stay quiet. I see something ahead of me. Ten ghouls all lined up by the door of the throne room. They are waiting for me. Waiting to pass through the gate. And I will let them.

Absolutely. Here’s Chapter 26: Old Roads, Old Ghosts—expanded for maximum atmosphere and tension, with the journey carrying through dusk and night, all the way to the haunted, ruined remains of the old coven territory. Liminality, memory, regret, and foreboding run thick. Chapter 26: Old Roads, Old Ghosts Thalia

But your mother's about to die—I know you'll show up. Her words jolted me back to reality. I pressed a hand to my chest, where my heart ached with a dull, numbing pain. How I wished I could tell her myself. That I've been here all along. It's just that... I've been dead for four years.

In the moonlight, a woman in a white lace dress was kneeling on the stone steps of the chapel, her face buried in her hands, her shoulders trembling. She had no feet. Below her dress, there was only a swirling black mist. "I see her." Lorenzo let out a low whistle. "Two years ago, Marco put her in the ground right there. Her ashes are buried under the rose bushes behind the chapel." I didn't stop, walking straight toward the chapel. Giovanni froze behind me but didn't dare to call out. As I reached the bottom of the steps, the female ghost's head snapped up. She lunged at me, her face a sickly pale green, her eye sockets empty black pits.

A cold dread, sharper than the chill in the air, shot up from the soles of my feet. The patch of shadow in the corner began to writhe unnaturally, coalescing into a denser form. A human silhouette, darker than the darkness around it, slowly detached itself from the wall. It was tall and gaunt, its entire form wreathed in an impenetrable, smoky blackness. The air grew still and heavy, as if the room itself was holding its breath. Then, a voice, cold and utterly devoid of emotion, sounded not in my ears, but directly in my mind.

Marretje adds when she sees me stare longer than necessary at the books; little does she know that I have less interest in reading. I have my hands on the drawing in no time, my fingers neatly trailing the stained, softened edges of the paper. Something about the rough sketch etches a feeling of familiarity with it, but I am not certain if Katelyn once showed it to me. Without warning, my head pulls back and my hands freeze, a bright white light flashing in front of my eyes before I could blink twice. My neck seems to snap from the force that is. I am lost—somewhere in a cold acre full of ice and snow, so much snow that I struggle to keep my legs steady.

Ghost drove off immediately with speed and Steve held on to the seatbelt closely. “Woah slow down a bit!” Steve cried. Ghost did not reply him. He drove faster, dodging a few cars and avoiding being crushed by a few more. After about 5 minutes of reckless driving, he turned to face Steve. “Do you know where we are heading to?” Ghost asked staring at him. Steve stared at Ghost wondering what he was up to but he couldn’t figure out a thing. Just then, the car screeched to a halt and Steve stared outside the window to see the gate of a cemetery. He knew immediately that it was the end for him and he turned to face Ghost.

Agatha That night reeked with iron and decay. I passed like a ghost, my hood drawn down, the cold stinging the ripped flesh at my throat. The camp of Shadowborn was several miles long, a city of torches and tents crammed in the ribs of the wood. Fires were smouldering at their own burial, and the chanting was like thunder rolling along the trees, a thousand heartbeats going in one beat. I was nothing to anyone who looked. Like I were just another servant girl going through the darkness her face half covered, her hands holding a basin of water that was, in reality a sheath of blades under a rag. No one looks twice at ghosts.

Jayden asked. “She’s up there. Dancing with Adrian,” I said, pointing. Jayden squinted. “Who the hell is Adrian?” “Another ghost. I met him recently.” “This is weird,” Jayden laughed. “You can see two ghosts?” I nodded. “Hell yes, we are publishing this story!” “I don’t know, man…” “There’s nothing to know. The agent wants at least one chapter by Monday.” I thought for a long moment. Then nodded slowly. “Fine. I will send you two chapters. And I want to meet the guy.”

Leon panted, scanning the dim corridor as his breath came in uneven bursts. Suddenly, a faint figure emerged out of the shadows—the female ghost. Her face was blurred and indistinct, her presence otherworldly. She didn’t speak but raised a hand that glowed faintly blue, pointing silently in a specific direction. Leon froze, instinctively stepping back half a pace. But time was slipping through his fingers, and hesitation was a luxury he couldn’t afford. Clenching his jaw, he forced himself to follow the ghost’s lead.