Ghost Graphic 소설 & 이야기

He could see his own breath—a white plume of fear in the sapphire strobe light. "He's not real, Grace," Jinyan said, though the logic felt hollow even as he spoke it. He looked at the specter of his father. "You’re a hallucination. A neural projection triggered by the accelerant Thorne put in the water. You're a ghost in the machine."

She interrupted as she wiggled her hips again, tossing her hair over her shoulder in what she clearly thought was a seductive move. The problem here is that, because she is a ghost, half her body kept flickering in and out of visibility. One second she is grinding on me, the next second, she vanished completely, and then bam, she is back, a little off-center, her knee phasing through my fucking thigh and it's really scary.

“The question is if it really matters.” I joined Brett’s surprise at her words. She smiled. “There’s a lot of debate around what ghosts actually are. Are they what’s left of a person’s energy or are they actual souls? If they’re souls, it makes sense to hurry to help them move on. But I’m inclined to agree with my mentor’s theory, that they’re the remaining of people’s egos, not their soul.” “You lost me,” I said.

“When you do your thing what’s stopping the building from crushing you?” I looked at him past my shaking arms and huffed, “Guess it’s a good time to ask which of you is the fastest runner?” Caius looked at Ghost. “You can turn her incorporeal.” “I can’t do shit,” Ghost scoffed. He had removed his shirt awhile ago and was using it to mop the sweat off his body. “Don’t look at me like that, man. You know I’ve never turned anyone before. If I fail then we both die.”

Veronica stayed quiet and Mike was paying attention to the road along with the driver. In response, Felix just nodded. Now he was familiar with Nick. He was ready for all the tricks Nick had in his sleeves. "So tell me, where we were back then?" Nick questioned. "Huh? Inside the studio of Ghostbusters?" Felix answered back. "Right! What do Ghostbusters do?" "As the name suggests? Ghostbusting?" "Pffttt! Hahahaha! that's the lamest answer I've ever heard."

Marcus cast his eyes down as his shame covered him like a new winter’s coat. “ For now,Noah, please just trust me.” For a while after Noah left his room, Marcus stared up at the ceiling, feeling like the lowest form of life for lying to his best friend. How could he possibly explain to him that his dad and new girlfriend were being haunted by an ancient spirit, the same one who haunted his gran and her sister years before? “ Hello Marcus.” The voice which suddenly interrupted his thoughts, was melodious and familiar. Marcus looked to his side and by the light of the moon beaming through the window, he saw her.

"You don't talk much. You haven't said hundred words since. It isn't healthy to keep to yourself and be a misanthrope. " Before I would say something I would regret, I got up and walked away, clutching my sketchbook like a lifeline. Where did it get worse? I angrily slapped my sketchbook into my bag, along with other books as last period ended. Scenes overwhelmed my mind, leading it down Memory Lane. Crying, talking, begging and lots of tears filled the scene. My mother was bound, gagged and she was kneeling close to my father's body. His gray eyes were widened in shock and the bullet hole was pouring out blood.

Lucas had been gone for hours, leaving me to the not so careful ministrations of Magda. The wart nosed witch who I had clobbered over the head with a candlestick. She was hunched forwards with a permanent hunchback and cloudy milky white eyes signalling that her eyesight was diminished with cataracts. She almost looked like she had taken a step out of a Greek mythology book and was actually one of the fabled grey sisters, who determined all living creatures fate. Perhaps she was, all myths derived from elements of truth. Any second now she was going to pull out a pair of rusty old scissors and cut my life cord into two. I held back a giggle at the thought.

Charlie Vane stood by the floor-to-ceiling glass of his office, the sprawling lights of the city mocking him from below. In his hand, he crushed the printed photo Marcus had captured at the plaza. The graininess of the image didn't hide the truth the boy’s eyes were a defiant, dark mirror of his own. " holy shit" he whispered, his breath hitching. "It’s a ghost. It has to be a goddemned ghost."

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.