Ghost Graphic Novels & Stories

Ghost bellowed, "And I'll do anything for power!" The grafted flesh around his body squirmed as he did—a sickening sight. "It seems that I've underestimated you…" Frank dropped to one knee, turning pale and smiling in pain as he looked down at the gaping hole in his stomach. "Frank!" Skyler stumbled backward, suddenly fearing the grafted monster beside Frank. Ghost had truly gone mad, grafting the flesh of others to himself to absorb the power of the spiritron vein!

I jumped back to avoid getting covered in it. The ogre slowed and finally collapsed, first to its knees, then flat on its face. Its last act was to loudly evacuate its bowels, ejecting a mass of green-black sludge that filled the air with a disgusting stink they’ll never be able to recreate at your local IMAX. I walked closer to the dead monster and reached out to touch it, wanting to prove to myself it was some kind of hologram. It couldn’t possibly be real. “Don’t,” said Grayson as he rolled off its back and wiped his sword on the grass. “They sometimes carry diseases.”

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.

But it didn't matter to her anymore. "Do you know what you are?" "A Night... Hallow." she answered meekly. "Indeed. But do you know what kind of a Night Hallow you are?" She shook her head. "What is your name?" "Lana." she answered briefly. "Lana. Lana the Ghoul." the male repeated. "A ghoul?" "A phantom. Perhaps you have been associated with the graves before?" the male asked. Lana nodded. "Maybe... when I was alive, I remember working as a gravedigger."

Snow started falling—hard and fast. I stood there on the curb, freezing, shaking. Three hours in, my phone died. Sonia never came. Before the screen went black, one last thing flashed—Pierre's post. A selfie. Him and Sonia in front of some car, her face turned halfway. Caption: [Under the same snow, our hair turns white. Close enough to growing old together, right?] In the dead glass, my reflection stared back—smiling. Not bitter. Just done. The hundredth promise, traded for a concert and a boy toy.

Her look is comprehensive, a reminder of our earlier conversation and it makes me look away from her. “And from the Kingdom of Nyxara! A vampire ghost known as one of Nyxara deadliest criminals in the past century with more than a hundred bodies to his name. At least, with the amount of criminals from Nyxara in this year’s Dance of the Dead it’s fair to say Nyxara produces quite a lot of criminals,” The announcer jokes and the crowd laughs. “Introducing from the Kingdom of Nyxara, Lotus!”

This feels lighter, automatic—like stepping where the ground has already been mapped. They call me Ghost. It simplifies things. Ghosts don’t leave witnesses. Or questions. Or pieces of themselves behind. Conversation thins as I pass. People shift their feet. I registered the looks without meeting them. Curiosity from the younger ones. Calculation from the handlers. And something closer to superstition from everyone else. I am twenty-two years old. I’ve been killing since I was fourteen. The numbers don’t settle into pride or shame. They sit like inventory. A medic steps aside as I pass. His eyes drop to the insignia stitched inside my collar—black thread on gray. Ghost-class comes without ra

I stammered, my heart jackhammering away. "Getting a better look," he said with an impish grin and I felt my face and ears flush completely. Was he going to kiss me again? "Are you gay?" I asked as I averted my gaze from his captivating grey. "Not telling," he whispered and backed away from me. "I don't mind starting as friends though. I'm Higan." He stretched a hand out to me and I stared at it for a while. He gave his hand a shake to remind me that he was waiting and I took his hand before shaking it briefly.

The man scoffed disdainfully, "It doesn't matter since you're about to die. I'm Ghost Shadow, and she's Madam Bones!" Sebastian nodded slightly. "Alright, if you insist on dying, I'll grant your wish." "Fool!" Ghost Shadow shouted as he drew a sword from his waist. The sword's tip shimmered with a dark glow, transforming into a black streak aimed at Sebastian's chest. Sebastian's expression changed immediately. Ghost Shadow was indeed a disciple of the Corpse Sect, and the sword was soaked in corpse fog. A strike from this sword wouldn't just kill; it would also cause the victim to suffer unbearably from the corpses' energy, eventually leading to a horrific death.

Cassian cut Vera off without waiting for her to finish speaking. "It's still alive?" Stunned, Vera glanced at Brandon. Brandon was starting to feel displeased. "What do you mean by that, Cassian? Are you doubting the experts' verdict? "The obstetrics experts and I had performed a check-up on the patient together. The results showed that there was no existing heartbeat within the baby. If you don't believe me, I can show you the report." "Dr. Forrest, I'm not doubting the report. The reason why this is happening is because of the ghost baby in the patient's womb," Cassian explained. "Ghost babies are different from regular babies. They can still survive without a beating heart."