Ghost Stand By Him Novels & Stories

He walked onto the stage and reached out, trying to shake my hand, pretending to be a magnanimous veteran. "Congratulations. Lucky race, kid." He spoke through clenched teeth in a low voice. I looked at his hand suspended in the air and didn't move. I walked straight past him to the host and took the microphone from his hand. Then I turned and aimed the microphone at the live broadcast cameras. "Today, I'm standing here not only because of luck." My voice passed through the massive speakers, spreading across the entire circuit and into the livestream. The whole place went quiet. Everyone sensed that something was wrong.

“Dexter’s ordering some cameras and stuff for the outside yard. Not sure how soon we can get it, but he knows someone who might be able to help with that.” “That’s it?” Surely, he wanted to say more? I knew it was a hope rather than a question. Because as we stood across from each other we both knew he would say nothing else. Kevin Stone was a cold man, and cold men didn’t consider problems as someone else would. The ghost only acted when it had to. He stares at me like I’m the dead one walking. The foreign being in this scene. And it creates unease in me. Is this hurt? Rejection? Or is it something so uncharted it had no name to describe the strength of its hold blooming inside of me?

"What—why?" "I need to stop him from getting himself killed," Ghost said firmly. "Understood?" "Yes, yes," the voice replied quickly. "Consider it done."

"With everything that happened. Starting with me trying to go back to Boston, then realising I'm a ghost. I went back there and jumped into that empty grave, Trying to kill myself" "Wait wait wait." Austin interrupted her, smiling. "You knew you were a Ghost, and you tried to kill yourself " he raised his hands in apology, as he couldn't control his laughter. He saw she wasn't having any of it, and stopped laughing, but the smile on his face couldn't fade away.

The sound reverberates through the Throat of Echoes like thunder, like prophecy, like the final word of a god: “The war has already been won.” Every version of me—Tyrant, Martyr, Warrior, Sage, even the flickering Ghost—falls to their knees. The compulsion is absolute, inevitable, written into the very structure of reality. We are moths before a sun that wears our own face. Only Ghost-me remains standing, and she's smiling. "Finally," she whispers, her form growing more solid even as the others fade. "I was wondering when you'd show up."

“Someone fed us a location they knew we’d take.” Her gaze darted to Niko, who was barely staying upright. “Get him to the med unit. Now.” Two soldiers moved to help him, but he waved them off. “I’m fine.” “You’re bleeding through a shirt,” Gia shot back. He grinned weakly. “Adds character.” I almost smiled. Almost. Gia turned back to me, voice dropping. “Was it the Ghost?” “Yeah.” She swore under her breath. “You got eyes on him?”

I gulped, refusing to say anything, but my silence already gave her the answer she was looking for. She let out an audible exhale. Looking like she could not believe what she was hearing. "There has to be another way." Faye started pacing around with her fingers massaging her forehead like she was having a migraine while biting on one side of her bottom lip. "We just have to think." "There is no other way Faye." I stated "once I'm dead, she would not be able to use my body for anything anymore. I'll be useless and demons can't walk the earth without a host."

You may ask, because the last time he ghosted her was on a similar night like yesterday and Anjali did not want the history to repeat so she made up her mind to visit him and collect the bag from the mall which she forgot yesterday and head back home. She drove her car to his current house, parked the car out and marched straight in as if she owned the place. His house was quiet, clean and calm She looked around and found him on the sofa, fast asleep, his hands folded across his chest, eyes shut close. He had worn a white shirt, his reading glasses were still on and the book he was reading last lay in between his folded arms, hugging tightly. Sadly! Anjali won’t know that it was not the book

"You’ve cleared the site. You’ve removed the threats. Why are you still looking for ghosts?" He gripped my waist, his fingers digging into the fabric of my dress. "Because ghosts are the only things that can walk through walls, Eden. And Silas Vane is the best ghost in the business." "I haven't seen him; I doubt I'll see him while I'm indoors," I said, the lie tasting like copper in my mouth. "He’s just a name in a file to me now."

“I can show you.” “Show me, how?” I say. I’m more serious now. “I can prove to you that I’m a ghost.” He stands up. “By walking through a wall or something?” I chuckle loudly. “No. Just trust me, okay?” He gestures for me to stand up and I do too. I nod tentatively. This better not be a prank. Or I will make him an actual ghost by killing him. Sterling walks towards the wall. His strides are purposeful. He then stands next to the light switches.