Ghosted Synopsis Novels & Stories

Even if she did, she'd blame it on the wind. "Ghost?" Sharon was becoming concerned, "I thought you don't believe in such things?" "Really? Oh, em." Geneva cleared her throat and spoke confidently, "that's true, I am not scared by flimsy things such as ghooosts!" The last word Sharon heard was the word 'ghosts' being screamed into her eardrums before she heard nothing else. The phone had fallen and disassembled and the call, disconnected.

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.

Everything else is noise. Half an hour passes before Ghost walks back in. He looks winded. “You lost her,” Echo says before I even ask. Ghost glares at him. “Don’t. I had my eyes on her. She turned a corner, and she was gone. I searched every alley, every street. She just fucking vanished.” Of course she did. I bury my face in my hands. “Forget it,” I mutter. “Just forget it. Everyone shut up.” I lean back in the chair and close my eyes. I don’t even realise I’ve drifted off until the door swings open again. Charlotte strides back in like nothing happened and throws something into my lap.

She was a ghost, brilliant, anonymous, Flirty, then gone. And now she’s back? I tap the message. Geo-Tag Attached Please help me. Come find me now. That’s it. My blood runs cold. She ghosted me without warning. No goodbye. No explanation. And now, this? What the hell is going on? What is she caught up in? Is this a new game, a way for her to keep herself entertained? I stand up so fast my chair screeches across the floor. Ash looks up, surprised. Jace frowns.

June demanded, stepping in front of Dante, clutching the living book like a shield. “I’m the part of the contract you couldn’t destroy,” the shadow whispered, drifting closer. Grass shriveled and died beneath it. “Your Gabe is gone. He went into the Dark Void to hide and became a ghost. The one you met in the Pantry was only a memory the Hunger used to lure you here.” “No!” June shouted, a sharp pain slicing through her chest. Gabe had been her teacher. Only he knew the secret recipes. Realizing she’d been talking to a ghost—she felt gutted. “He saved us! He showed me how to save the Earth!”

Matteo stood by the door, one hand resting smoothly on his gun. I stayed seated, eyes fixed keenly on Ghost. Waiting. Watching. Every minute seemed to drag endlessly and slowly. Painful slow. Ghost’s fingers suddenly stopped and his back straightened and then he scratched his unkempt beards. He leaned in near the screen, lowering his glasses and peering at the screen like he was born blind. " What's it?" Matteo asked. Ghost did not answer at first. He squinted at the screen again and leaned back with a low whoosh and pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose .

He tried to trace the IP; the Ghost bounced the signal off a satellite in Antarctica, a toaster in Tokyo, and a library in Brazil. But Altair was Vespera Thorne’s son. He didn't just know code; he knew architecture. He realized the Ghost wasn't trying to steal the money. The Ghost was leaving a tag. Altair stopped fighting. He watched the Ghost reach the center of the vault. It didn't take the billions. It simply planted a flag—a small, ASCII art skull—and vanished. CONNECTION TERMINATED. The room went silent. The red lights faded back to blue. "Damage report," Altair asked.

was still echoing in my goddamn chest, soft and thunderous all at once. And then this. Gio wanted to unravel her. Piece by piece. He wasn’t coming with armies, he was coming with ghosts. With messages carved into flesh. He was reminding us that monsters don’t always knock. They just let themselves in. My phone buzzed. Another message. Another body. This one was worse.

Whatever my father has become, whatever he’s done, I won’t let it touch her. I won’t let it touch them. I pick up my phone again, fingers steady now. If Gustavo Wilder is alive… If he’s moving pieces in the dark… Then I need to know why. And how far it goes. Because the bloodline ghost haunting my past just stepped into my present. And I have a feeling… This is only the beginning.

If she is not here, where the fuck is she? “Thank you,” I say, walking away and entering my car. I grip the steering wheel and then slam my hands against it as my phone rings. Retrieving it from the inside pocket of my jacket, I answered without looking. “I heard you had a tough night,” I hear Ghost say on the other side of the line. The man knows me better than anyone and knows I am ready to punch someone’s brains out. “I’ve got a space to be filled tomorrow night. Are you interested,” he says.