Ghostface Characters Novels & Stories

You know those guys in your school? Not the normal ones, but the fuckboys? Yeah, those ones. If you don't know those guys, then you may just not know the meaning of the term fuckboy . Generally, a fuckboy is actually an attractive, funny guy. Usually you wouldn't want to admit it, but everyone knows it, even himself. A fuckboy has an unhealthy amount of confidence in himself which helps him to lead girls on just for hookups. He'll say that he's really into you but doesn't want to deal with an actual relationship. He thinks about himself and only himself all the time but is nice to most people.

Kael walked through, his face cold and stiff like the raging winter. As he opened the first dungeon, a familiar face stared through the iron bars. She wasn’t herself. In a few months, her hair had grown white, her body had frayed out, and her bones could be seen through her pale skin. This was what was left of the great Gama Alios. Frank stared at her swollen, pale eyes. She was now a ghost of herself.

The Origin Interceptors The Real Rhys wasn't waiting for the clock. He deployed the Ghost-Hounds. These weren't biological wolves or digital constructs; they were "Remote-Operated" combat drones, piloted by the Origin Corporation’s elite "Black-Ice" hackers. They looked like sleek, chrome spiders, armed with high-frequency "Deletion-Lasers." "They're cutting the nodes!" Jax and Cole screamed, their voices echoing through the city’s smart-audio systems. "The perimeter is shrinking! They're pushing us toward the Origin Tower!"

But none of her friends or colleagues was so childish they'd send a masked delivery guy dressed like a hitman just to scare her—unless… The thought was too unsettling, so she firmly pushed it to the back of her mind, licking her suddenly dry lips as she forced the words out of her parched throat, "who are you?" "My friend sent me," Ghostface replied, offering no other details. Camille didn't know what was more disturbing—the dead look in his glassy eyes or the fact that she couldn't see his lips move beneath the freaky mask whenever he spoke.

“Hurry, Father. You must help Ian!” Adam steeled his nerves, took a deep breath, and forced his legs to take him across the hot, charred ground as fast as he could. He had to weave around a few spirits who were so opaque and dense that they could have easily passed as real people. He debated whether they were even aware of him as they moved aimlessly about in a zombie like manner.

It hummed with the sound of massive computing power. Sitting in the center of the room on a simple ergonomic chair was a man. He was young, perhaps in his late twenties, with messy dark hair and thick framed glasses. He was wearing a hoodie and sweatpants, typing furiously on a keyboard. This was the Ghost. Not an old veteran, but a kid. Adrian stopped at the edge of the server farm. "Silas Vane. Meet the Ghost." The kid stopped typing. He spun his chair around. He looked at Silas, then at Leo. He pushed his glasses up his nose.

He was tense earlier because of the stares, but I'm sure he was enjoying their adoration of him. Ghosts don't favor crowded spaces. Their real name is Myles McCormick, aka Ghost. He's only a few years younger than me before he joined the team. He has been given the name Ghost because of his code name. He is good at not being spotted. He's a great master of disguise, and you wouldn't think twice to know who or where he is. He's like a wandering ghost who came to fuck you.

Phantom crossed his legs and leaned against the couch casually. He narrowed his eyes and appraised Lucille, who was dressed in allblack, only revealing her eyes. "Did you say you're Inkbrush?" Lucille also appraised him. Phantom was Ghosthorn's top dog and called the shots there. There was one thing that surprised her, though—he was younger than she'd expected and quite handsome. He'd deep-set eyes and a tall nose. His had tanned skin and a small scar on his forehead. It didn't detract from his good looks, though. On the contrary, it left one with a deep impression. It was as if it was his trademark.

ZEPHYR’S POV “Yes, there are two of our ghosts who are not with us now.” “Do they have names?” I asked him. “N….” He paused, rethinking his reply again. Then he said. “We go by one name, Ghost. Any other name aside this, I am unaware of it. I know it seems undutiful for me to not have this simple information but sometimes our ghosts tend to break out of character and hence get themselves into scenarios that end up leaving them with souvenirs like names, tattoos, tags.”

I begin conjuring my magic in preparation for the fight. I look over at our new arrivals and assess them. One of the ghouls has a medium frame with a buzz cut . The other one is probably close to six feet, short brown hair, and has a thick red scar running from his cheek to his chin. They scan the crowd and their eyes land on Kieran. “Just the man we’ve been looking for!” Scarface says as they begin strolling towards us. The patrons standing in their path quickly move before they get trampled.