Ghost Stand By Him Novels & Stories

Two minutes into the man's cigarette a black, luxury sedan which was very well looked after, pulls up and parks next to the sidewalk, right in front of the glass hotel doors. The man in the blue suit along with his entourage of five start moving forward towards the sedan. The man in the blue suit flicks his cigarette over the trunk of the sedan and watches it as it flies into the middle of the street, getting snuffed out by the tires of traffic. Even before the back door to the sedan is opened, the man in the blue suit abruptly comes to a halt. His head, unnaturally flings backwards as a little red dot appears in the middle of his forehead, sending a spray of red onto three of the men in his

Then the rider lifted both hands. Not in surrender. With caution. Like someone approaching a wounded animal. Their voice came out distorted through a modulator. “Ghost,” they said softly. Everything inside me stilled. Only three people ever called me that. One was dead—Saint. One should’ve been dead—Shade. And the third… The third was an ally long buried in the dark. A ghost from my old life. The rider reached up and slowly—very slowly—removed their helmet. My breath caught.

" Two guards in black immediately moved in, ignoring Nellie's struggle as they dragged her toward the exit. Around them, guests lifted their phones, snapping pictures and laughing under their breath. Voices overlapped, mocking how pathetic the Scott siblings were, laughing that people like them might as well be dead. What they didn't know was that I was already dead. And Nellie was suffering from the same illness I had. She didn't have much time left either.

Half of his head was blown off, brains and dark red blood clinging to his eye socket. He must have been one of Marco's hired guns in life. There was no way he was among the living now. "Careful, little kitty. Nosing around can get you killed," the spirit said with a ghastly smile, black blood oozing from the corner of his mouth. A ghost. "Another one of Marco's guard dogs?" I asked coldly. "I'm the master of this pier," the spirit said, closing in. "But I took the boss's offering, so I have to clean up any bugs that crawl in."

But they all felt so fucking real. Jesus! The thought of having sex with a ghost made me sick all over. My stomach knotted as a full-blown terror took root. A fever ran down my body and my skin gallop with goose pimples. "Do you see her?" his question brought me back to reality. I nodded slowly. "So those times I see you talking to yourself, it is her you are talking to?" I motioned. "Jesus!" he exclaimed. "You need deliverance with serious prayers oh!"

I whispered into the receiver when the man on the other end answered. The voice was calm, almost mocking. “You want Ghost.” “Yes.” “You know the price. Ghost has been locked up for the first time in twenty years. To free him, shut it !!! You have done the lecture before.”. “You’ll get your money.” “Then wait.” The line went dead. For two long hours, I paced my office, my steps echoing in the silence. Finally, headlights cut through the front gates. A black van rolled into the courtyard. Two men in dark suits stepped out, and behind them, another figure emerged.

I lied about my age and ended up in a secret online relationship with one of the biggest names in esports. He was nothing like his public persona. In public, he was cold and aloof. Online, though, he flirted with me nonstop. When he got worked up, he even said he'd be my good boy. Then my nineteenth birthday came and went, and my wolf still hadn't awakened. Most werewolves shifted for the first time at sixteen. Even late bloomers awakened by eighteen. I couldn’t let Adrian find out I was defective, with no wolf at all. So I broke up with him and blocked him everywhere. Months later, while staying with my best friend Chloe, I heard her older brother speak outside the bedroom. I had heard that

When it comes back I’m on my knees again, gasping, but I still crawl forward, still rise. “Three minutes,” Ghost calls. They hit me harder. Faster. No mercy. I don’t ask for any. I drop again, face-first into the mud, body refusing to move. Everything is pain. Everything is perfect. I push up one last time, legs trembling, blood pouring from too many places, and I stand. I stand. I look each of them in the eye, Knox, Titan, Blaze, Wrath, and I smile like the devil himself. “Time,” Ghost says quietly.

Nobody trusts anyone until you shove proof into their face. I sighed and lifted the hem of my shirt, revealing the black dragon tattoo inked deep into my skin—the symbol of The Ghost. The mark that made nations tremble. The emblem that ensured every enemy took their final breath in fear. The man’s eyes widened in shock. The room gasped collectively. “I—I’m s-sorry,” he stuttered. I smiled sweetly, stepped closer, and before he could blink— CRACK. His neck snapped between my fingers like it was made of thin wood.

Men got out, secured the area with military precision. I didn't wait for permission. Just opened my door and ran. Ghost met me at the front entrance. Six-foot-four of solid muscle and calm competence. He had been special forces before going private, and it showed in the way he moved he was always aware, always ready. "He's in the living room," Ghost said quietly. "Playing that dinosaur game you got him. I told him we might be taking a trip, but he doesn't know anything else." "Thank you." I gripped his arm. "For everything."