Ghost X Quiet Novels & Stories

While clinging to the last bit of my strength, I stood up, grabbed the divorce agreement from my handbag, and threw it at Jake’s face. “I’m divorcing you, Jake!” Then, right before Jake’s disbelieving gaze, I stumbled toward the door, but soon after I started walking, my vision turned black entirely, and I fell forward again. Right before I lost consciousness, I heard shouting. “Mrs. Green is bleeding!” “Call the ambulance!” “Luna!”

Ghost’s fingers flew across the keyboard, screens reflecting off his glasses in rapid flashes of blue and white. Every camera feed in the city was up. Every traffic cam. Every toll booth. Every intersection. And none of it was enough. “She’s in a black sedan,” Ghost muttered. “Tinted windows. No plates. They knew what they were doing.” I paced behind him, chest tight, hands shaking. I couldn’t sit. Couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think.

Cum , his cum , leaked slowly from her well-used pussy and trickled down her thighs. She stared at the ceiling, breathing hard, a dazed smile on her lips. “I still don’t believe in ghosts,” she whispered to the empty room. A deep, amused chuckle echoed beside her ear, followed by a tender, invisible kiss on her forehead. “Then I’ll just have to convince you again tonight.”

She was exactly where she was supposed to be. “Good morning, Mr. Harrison,” she said warmly, approaching his bed with her usual smile. “How are we feeling today?” The elderly man looked up, and Anne noticed something immediately. His eyes, which had been bright and clear just days before, seemed dimmer somehow. His skin had a grayish tint that hadn’t been there yesterday. His breathing sounded slightly labored, like he was working harder than usual to draw air into his lungs. Anne’s smile faltered slightly, but she kept her voice steady. “Mr. Harrison? How are you feeling?”

I walked past a gauntlet that crackled with electricity. Then, I stopped. In the back of the room, almost hidden behind a display of ceremonial daggers, was a simple, vertical case. Inside was a sword. It wasn't gold. It wasn't diamond. It was made of a pale, translucent metal that looked like frozen smoke. The hilt was wrapped in gray leather, worn smooth by use. It didn't hum. It didn't glow. It just sat there, looking dangerously quiet. "Ah," Kaelen said, coming up beside me. "The Ghostblade. Or, as the Old Poets called it, Silentium."

Ash said, but for a fraction of a second, his grey eyes flickered, a momentary glitch in the mechanical coldness of his soul. "Make it a priority, you heartless bastard," Silas breathed, his head finally sagging forward. "She’s still in there... screaming for you." POV: Rhea Mooncrest (Heir-Possessed) "He is coming, Mother. The ghost is walking toward the sun."

But because some questions never get answers, and I had stopped waiting for them. At last, on a quiet evening, my spirit dissolved completely.

I couldn’t speak until I was eight years old. Everyone in the Sterling family called me dumb. Even my mother would secretly wipe away tears, convinced she had given birth to an autistic daughter. Whenever my father looked at me, his eyes were filled with nothing but disappointment. However, for the sake of the family’s reputation, he could never bring himself to send me away to a special education school. Then came the day someone from a prominent hedge fund company arrived to acquire our family company, Sterling Group. He was so arrogant that he chewed out everyone in the boardroom until all of them hung their heads low. The room full of corporate executives fell silent, too terrified to

I watched my nine year-old daughter grieve a mother who was still breathing, and I drowned in the silence I was forced to keep. My knees buckled. I slid down the stone wall until I sat on the cold floor, the Ghost-Phone pressed to my chest as though I could somehow transmit my heartbeat through the screen. Mia’s quiet weeping filled the dark room like smoke. “Weakness is a luxury we burned at the gates of Blackwood, Valencia.” The voice sliced through the shadows, low, precise, arctic. I didn’t need to look up to know who stood in the doorway. Silas.

Geez, I sound so whipped. I let out a heavy breath, and I felt my seatmate nudged my side and whispered, "Are you okay, Syd?" I nodded my head in response, and I was startled when the ghost cheered, "Really? You nodded your head yes! That means you don't hate me! OMG!" "That nod is not for you," I whispered while making sure that Emma couldn't notice me and hear it.