Ghost Of Hollywood Novels & Stories

We exchanged glances for a second, but I was quick to avert my gaze and I didn't even know why. They've got tattoos on their faces and arms down to their shoulders. It was in the middle of the road, the sides surrounded by a lake. The one with a bird tattoo stepped forward, his smirk wider than the rest. “Look who we have here. It's Ghost” he laughed. “The soulless dead man who is here to haunt us today. Oh, I'm getting scared” another said. They laughed, and I let them hold their peace before they ended up in misery.

“This is between you and me. So, let’s settle it, Denis.” Ghost’s eyes narrowed and his face warped into a twisted mask of anger and indignation. “Denis died a long time ago. My name is Ghost.” He walked forward and put his gun right against Will’s forehead. The girls yelped in fear at the sudden movement. Alex and Spencer were rigid as terror gripped them as well. “And I am here to haunt you.” It happened in slow motion. Ghost’s arm moved from Will towards Emma his finger tightening even more around the trigger.

“Who we are does not matter, what matters is that the Wolves will die tonight!” Zephyr huffed, produced out his sword, and quickly sprinted towards him. “Ha! Do you not know where you are? I am Ghost! You will not be spared tonight!” he replied. Seeing Zephyr rush over, Ghost steadied himself. “Wolf’s Howl!” Ghost howled, with that the attack started. Even though he looked barbaric and unruly, he was very careful. Seeing how many of his men had been slaughtered, even if he did not know who Zephyr was, he knew he was formidable.

His words began to slur, spilling out in a messy, confused rush. “There… there was a man. In Halton. Right after we moved to the glass house.” He took another gulp, the whiskey burning a path down his throat. “He was called… the Ghost. He wanted to kill us. Zhedya… he took care of it. He killed him, right in front of me. I didn’t want him to though but he was behind my memory loss then so…” Miller’s fingers tightened almost imperceptibly on his neck. “The Ghost? Do you know his real name?”

Ryder would go insane if he heard this. With no second thought, Giveon morphed into his werewolf form, disappearing into the dark woods. Tomorrow, he will be returning to the pack to drop the big news. * "Get inside," Ghost ordered sternly, holding the door of his apartment open. Still, in tears, Ciara slowly walked in. She recalled waking up here weeks ago. Never had she thought she would be back here again. "Sergio–" Ghost began, with a hoarse voice, "Did he touch you? Did he fuck you?" He added, spelling it all out.

She was riding on the giant’s shoulder, her eyes glowing a dark, oily black. "The red smoke wasn't a bomb, Hazel," the Ghost whispered in my ear. "It was a key. And I’m the one who’s going to turn it in." She twisted the blade, and I felt my heart stop.

The way he had in the basement library, when he was trying to decide if he could trust me. "Ghost doesn't take money," he said. "He doesn't take favors. He takes pieces of people. Memories. Secrets. Things you can't get back." "Then we make sure we don't give him anything we can't afford to lose." --- The number on Miriam's card connected after two rings. A voice answered. Not male. Not female. Something in between. Processed through a modulator, scrambled beyond recognition. "You reached the line," the voice said. "State your business."

I was a bit surprised at that but I knew he had friends left over from his own Sire days before giving it all up. “Have you ever heard of Ghost?” Milo leaned back in his seat and I wanted to hit that grin off his face. “Ghost is a myth because in reality nobody can be that good, move unseen, unheard and strike so silently that his victims are killed with guards just outside their doors.” Ryder’s tone was low but he clearly didn’t believe that Ghost existed. He had been a hunter too and he used to be one of the best. “There have been enquiries about Ghost. Whoever made them wants to know if Ghost worked for the Unit.” Milo sounded as relaxed as only Milo could.

“But the difference is, I’m protecting her from something real. You realise that, don’t you? The club’s gone door to door across half this damn city gathering footage from that night. We’re trying to figure out who it is, for her.” His voice drops, disbelief heavy in the words. “There’s no footage.” “That’s bullshit. We’ve got plenty. It’s just tied up right now, but I guarantee in the next few days, we’ll know who it is.” His eyes widen slightly. “You give me the name.” I stare at him, unimpressed. “That’s not happening. We’ve got someone who’ll handle it. You don’t need a name. Not until it’s dealt with.” Greg laughs, but there’s no humour in it. “Ghost.” My body stiffens immediately.

"El Cajon tried to stop him." "He knew Moretti for the monster he truly is." "But now, he's dead." The crowd recoiled like a single, living organism. Gasps, screams and curses erupting from them. I couldn't move. My ears were ringing, but my heart was louder. "You've been partying,” Ghost sneered, "with a terrorist. A murderer." And that's when it all fell apart. Someone threw a glass. Another person screamed. A woman next to me shouted, "You lied to us!"