Ghost Goth Novels & Stories

Lila POV And with that, Feargus punches a set of numbers into the security lock. The door clicks open, and he steps back. With a nod from Caleb, I follow him inside, my breath streaming out in front of me. Nyxies I can totally deal with. Ghosts, on the other hand, are another kettle of fish I’d much rather avoid. At least with demons, I can physically see them and drag their asses back to Hell. But dead people left to rot in an underground city?

It wasn’t like he was going to be stepping into any big role right away like me. His old man goes by “Ghost” and I hope he’ll be like him. Ghost is kind of Grouch’s right hand. While I’m the enforcer, the one with the most flies, Ghost is usually the one who gets the guys that come into the basement. You’ll never see him coming until he’s putting zip ties on your wrists and a bag over your head. He’s a huge dude but he’s light footed and sneaky. Professional stalker is the term I use.

But they all felt so fucking real. Jesus! The thought of having sex with a ghost made me sick all over. My stomach knotted as a full-blown terror took root. A fever ran down my body and my skin gallop with goose pimples. "Do you see her?" his question brought me back to reality. I nodded slowly. "So those times I see you talking to yourself, it is her you are talking to?" I motioned. "Jesus!" he exclaimed. "You need deliverance with serious prayers oh!"

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.

he murmurs, “if you ever get tired of the silent brooding type, there are more fun options out there.” “Is that so?” I reply, my voice light. “Absolutely.” Before I can throw a retort back at him, someone slides into the space between us with the kind of smooth, quiet force that only comes from someone used to being obeyed. Ghost doesn’t say anything at first. He just plants himself squarely in front of Hectic, shoulders loose but energy sharp. Hectic blinks. “Well, hello—” “I’d move back a bit if I were you,” Ghost says, his voice low, steady, and far too calm to be casual.

Ghost is a dark fae, which means he’s greedy, likes death, and likes pretty women with spunk. His short white hair is spiked. Ghost wears a black sleeveless hoodie and black and white checkered jeans with black boots. His eyebrows, nose, and lips are all pierced with gages in both ears. His pointed ears give him away that he is fae. Ghost has all black eyes, much like one would think a demons would be if they were real. Some things are just stories made up of distorted truths. Demons and angels fall into that category. Ghost's pasty white skin almost glows under the glow of the flashing lights.

Those eyes lifted and locked on mime and the glass instantly stopped moving. “The dead has no business with the living, Riven Cole,” he said, voice low enough that only I heard the tremor under it. “We don't tend to corpses here.” I crossed the distance, my boots leaving wet prints on sawdust, then I placed my hands on the counter and said in a low voice, “Then pour one for a ghost.” The room seemed to respond to my words like they heard me, a hush spreading round. I heard a chair scraping the ground and seconds later, someone in the back muttered “traitor”.

The "Gold-Grey Static" from the CEO woman hit Silas Blackwood like a wave of conceptual acid. It wasn't the "Biological Remorse" he was used to; it was a "Synthetic Grief"—a simulated version of his own 30-year pride, amplified and distorted by the human’s unstable marrow. Silas fell to his knees on the white-glass floor, his gold-and-sapphire skin "glitching" as the human’s parasitic hunger tried to "Down-sample" his soul.

At this moment, Dolores saw the stunning looking skull without any torso materializing again, she had already begun chanting of her demise in her head to teleport into the white room, consequently, she had simply vanished out of sight from the viewpoint of the ghost. Gwen's ghost stared at the spot where the woman was just present, she manifested her hand and flapped at the area, but still nothing as if the person just evaporated in the air! This kind of dilemma, Gwen had never experienced before, before Gwen was in a satisfactory mood thinking of teasing and likewise killing Dolores today and making her, her pet ghost. Thinking of her failed plan, Gwen couldn't help but scream. Dolores had

Stephen leaped on him, taking him down with him. "Steph". Ace called him but it was late. Callum saw his eyes flashing yellow. A bright yellow. Pupils dilated. Stephen had Adam's neck exposed as his fangs elongated and the last thing Callum saw was those fangs sinking in the crook of Adam's neck and then he lost his consciousness. It was too much for him. "Tsk tsk tsk. You let your wolf overpower you". Zol said unamused. Though they didn’t put any charge on Stephen for killing Adam, because they knew Adam had few things on his hands to be taken care of. But they were kind of disappointed.