Novel & Cerita Ghost Motionless In White

​He nodded toward the far end of the marble ballroom, near the balcony that overlooked the darkened city. ​A man stood there, completely still amidst the dancing crowd. He wore a suit of bone-white linen that seemed to absorb the light rather than reflect it. He was unnervingly thin, his skin so pale it was almost translucent, revealing the faint, grey network of veins beneath. But it was his eyes that stopped my breath—they were a flat, milky white, devoid of pupils, as if he were looking at a world we couldn't see.

I pressed it to **Minimize** the world. --- ### The White Room The sensation was like being pulled through a straw. My bones felt like they were being crushed into a single point of light. I heard Rowan’s voice screaming my name, a sound that stretched out into a long, distorted drone before fading into silence. When I opened my eyes, I was standing in a room of glass and chrome.

A woman, dressed in white robes, standing a few feet away. I wanted to scream, but I was stunned into silence. Her eyes were hollow sockets, and her mouth opened like she was screaming, but no sound came out of it. I staggered to my feet, and tried taking several steps backward , to put a lot of distance between us, and she didn't follow. She just stood there, her existence flickering in and out, like a ghost with very bad reception. Then she suddenly disintegrated into tiny specks of white dust. "Oh my gosh! Oh my gosh!" I murmured as I brought trembling hands to my lips.

I am now clothed in a black long dress— black is so not my color. “Can we get this over with?” I peer straight at the woman. She is distracted. ...[“Wow, damn. I am so sexy!”]... I snap my sharp gaze to the woman under the spotlight. There is a spotlight on her even when she lays in the dark. I do not know what the spotlight is, or where it comes from. There is no beginning or end to the light, and it seems the ghost is glowing with the white light, or she could be the light? With this thought in mind, I watch her cautiously. The white light descends upon her, illuminating her body for me to see clearly in the dark.

He unbuttoned his collar and danced. He wanted her to keep her eyes on him. Only on him! As long as it made her happy, he was willing to do anything... When the maid brought in the ginger and brown sugar tea, she was shocked by the sight. Mr. White was wearing only a very thin shirt on his upper body, and the shirt was currently unbuttoned, revealing his strong chest. Miss Quest had two fingers in her mouth. She appeared to be whistling, but the whistling had stopped suddenly due to the door opening.

"Ehm, I'm about to uhm, you know, take a bath and stuff. Being a descent uhh ghost *clears throat*..." His blue eyes were focused on her and nothing else, revealing no emotion or thought whatsoever and his mouth remained mute. Is he still mad at me? In the end, that bath was the shortest one of her life. Geneva came out once again but now with a face deeply highlighted to look like an ebony queen and nails polished nude. She was covered from head to toe in her white lolita wedding gown. A wide hat sat atop her head as a veil covered her face. Her feet were in heels, her fingers in gloves, no skin was left available to the ghost!

HISTOIRE D'UNE VIE. TITRE : LES CHEVEUX BLANCS Auteur : Judi le Romantique plume Réalisatrice : MEAT PRODUCTION Chargée de publication : MEAT PRODUCTION PARTIE 3️⃣ See gusta.__________________ Martial : tu n'as vraiment pas changé toi. Moi: Ah bon pourquoi dis-tu cela ? Martial : tu es toujours ponctuelle ça n'a jamais changé en toi l'heure c'est l'heure.

“Mini-reunion” Alaister POV, "ALAISTER" I saw a guy who's smiling at me I can't figure out who is he. But his smile is very familiar. "Who are you?" when I tried to touch his face my hand suddenly penetrate. I startled. He's a ghost?? "Alaister...I love you so much Alaister" his voice was cold as ice but at the same time, I find it sweet and scary too. "Wait who are you? And why do I feel the same??" I asked him while still trying to feel his warmth oh fuck he's a ghost Alaister!

Angel was no more. Melody stopped singing and the medicine man stopped chanting. The silence of the night was deafening as they waited to make sure it was over. Satisfied that he’d accomplished what he came to do, the old Indian waved his hand over the fire and the flames disappeared. Feeling too old and tired to deal with it all, Malcolm had stayed by the river. Hearing the silence, he found the wherewithal to venture back to the camp. He got there just as Roy was rushing from the house to collect the Indian and make sure he was fine. The old man brushed him away and demanded a drink of whiskey and a smoke. The weathered cook happily obliged him.

The Silent Departure The night at Thorne Manor had never felt this silent. The grandfather clock in the main hall struck twice, its sound echoing through the cold and empty corridors, as if the house itself was mourning something that was about to be lost. Inside the spacious master bedroom, Liora White stood before the large mirror, staring at her own reflection. She was no longer wearing silk gowns or expensive jewelry gifted by Mavric. Instead, she wore her old black hoodie and cargo pants the uniform she used to wear when she was still the free "Ghost".