Ghost Nightlight Novels & Stories

It was also where the hard-wired emergency terminal sat—the only machine in the house that wasn't connected to the external fiber-optic trunk. "I need you to bring the lights back," Enzo said, shoving me toward the terminal. "But not all of them. I want the foyer and the halls to stay dark. I want the security floods in the garden to strobe. Disorient them." "I can do better than that," I said, my fear finally being overtaken by the cold, analytical focus of the Ghost. I sat at the terminal, my fingers finding the keys in the dark. "If I can jump the relay to the fire suppression system, I can trigger the halon gas in the South Wing. It won't kill them, but it’ll suck the oxygen out of the r

Taking the bottle from Roy’s possessive grip, he silently refilled her glass with a generous amount. The sound of a human’s anguished howling outside caught everyone’s attention. They raced to the window, but could see nothing out of the ordinary in the darkness as the weathered and painted old Indian continued to sit -statue like- by the roaring fire. At one point, he raised his hands to the sky, but, otherwise, he showed no signs of life. As the group left the window, Adam was about to follow them when he spotted something bright in the distance near the edge of the camp. “What’s that light?”

Her body would simply fail, and she would fall. But not today. Today wasn't the right day. The light was wrong. The angle was wrong. The wind was unpredictable. Ghost had learned patience the hard way by staying alive when he should have been dead. He watched her disappear into the building. Then he waited. Ghost ate protein bars and drank water from a bottle he'd prepared the night before. The apartment was empty except for him and his equipment. He'd rented it under a false name, paid in cash, told the landlord he was a photographer working on a project about the Manhattan skyline.

Milo’s POV It’s after one a.m., but I can’t sleep. Ghost is antsy too. It’s a good thing for once, though. Maybe a walk around the ward will help him calm down. I put on my slides and shuffle out into the hallway. It’s really quiet this late at night. Ghost feels like he’s on alert and it’s making me anxious. “Bro, remember what Doctor Stanton said.” I remind him. “It’s okay to be at sixty percent. Hundred percent is only when we’re working in the field.”

Don’t get him wrong, the graveyard was still used so there was no worry about it disappearing from erosion. Alfred walked through. There’s been enough people through here that he could follow the trail even in the dark of night. Oh, he wasn’t a fool. He brought a light with him. A secret most humans didn’t know is that supernatural creatures long ago learned green or coloured light was better at night than white light because it affected nightlight less and there were too many supernatural friends and foes to write that extra one to twenty seconds for your eyes to adjust.

It is only then when the darkness becomes too much for me. Due to these nightmares , I have bought myself these beautiful twinkle lights which I keep on the entire night. They are not bright enough to bother me when sleeping , but they just enough to let me look around my room when I hear him. The sad news about this is that all my twinkle lights are back home. This means that tonight I will have to survive – something I have always done.

His gaze swept the room, then locked on the other two who emerged from the darkness. Timmy and Aaron. Both armed. They wore only sweatpants, barefoot, and yet they looked far too dangerous to be just boys waking up in the middle of the night. Timmy had a furrowed brow, messy hair, and the pistol steady in his grip. Aaron, beside him, had an alert glint in his eyes, as if adrenaline had burned away any trace of sleep. And then, at the top of the stairs, Ghost appeared. Unlike the others, he wore a black shirt that seemed tailored to hug every one of his muscles. He held his gun with the same ease as holding a glass of water. His eyes were hard, metallic, scanning every detail of the scene.

We even let Athena out during training and let her practice sparring with Marcus, both in his human form and wolf form. And, at night, Ghost comes to see me. He never comes as Kade, he always shows up as himself. He claws at my door until I let him in. Then, he lays down and we cuddle for most of the night. And when I wake up, he’s gone again. If the Alpha knows he is doing it, he hasn’t made any indication. After the first two times, I stopped arguing with both of our wolves. And if I’m honest, I like it. I like him being here with me at night. It keeps most of the nightmares away. And as soon as they start to come and I whimper in my sleep, Ghost nudges me awake.

“Speak it only once at night, To light the ghost and call the fight.” She whispered: “Light the ghost…” Her voice caught. “Ghostlight,” she said. “It’s a trigger word.” Dorian stepped forward. “Say it again. Full phrase.” Isolde placed her hand on the case. Closed her eyes. And spoke clearly, evenly: “Speak it only once at night, To light the ghost and call the fight.” “Ghostlight.” A click. Then another. With a soft mechanical hiss, the case unlocked not with a dramatic flare, but a tired groan. A lid lifted. Inside, lined in black velvet…

Just poured himself a coffee, black and bitter, and leaned against the counter like the weight of the building could hold him steady. Ghost appeared like he always did, silent and sudden, leaning in the doorway with a cigarette burning low. His pale eyes cut across the room, landing on Rhett, steady and unblinking. “You didn’t sleep,” Ghost said. Not a question. A fact. Rhett took a swallow of coffee that burned all the way down. “Didn’t need to.”