Ghostly Fnf Novels & Stories

She put down the picture and ran to the sofa, her eyes sparkling with hope. “Mommy, you’re being lazy again! I’m going back to our old home to get the music box. Then, I can wake you up!” Seeing her determined to leave, I instinctively reached out for an umbrella, wanting to remind her that it was raining outside. Alas, my hand passed right through her body! In that instant, I suddenly remembered—I was dead. I could never protect her like before.

The tombstone glowed faintly in the dark soil. Vincent staggered back, his claws scraping against the stone. His name was etched into the granite—Vincent Fox. A growl tore from his throat. "No..." he gasped for breath. "No!" The ground beneath him rumbled as if something buried deep wanted to break free. From the shadows, the ghost’s whisper slid through the air: “She buried you with her. The grave doesn’t belong to her anymore; It belongs to you.”

"Good. Mom and Dad miss you. We'll all be together again." For a while, I let myself enjoy it—home, family, quiet. Almost forgot Carmoria ever existed. Didn't last. "Hedley, you got a letter." Rainee held out a blank envelope. My stomach dropped. Bad feeling already crawling in. I opened it. Of course—it was Sonia's handwriting. Every curve felt familiar. And disgusting.

"Incubi seduce young women while they sleep. We need the others to know you aren't here for sport." As if tomorrow wasn't already going to be bad enough! Now she had to worry about creatures seducing her in her sleep. Where was a good, sturdy, chastity belt when she needed one? “Others? How many others are there?” she asked. “How many other incubi are here?” William tried to clarify her question. “How many kinds of immortals are there?” Emily asked. Bigfoot, Loch Ness monster; were they all wondering around these halls, just waiting to snap her up for a midnight snack?

“When your dad was listing the things he didn’t want… what did he mean by… ‘no fucking cowbell’?” For the first time since the attack, Jo found herself laughing. She’d let that slip by her, but Zane was right. He had said that. “Well, when Elliott died, apparently, Hannah decided his funeral should be a little different than the norm. Apparently, the funeral started with the song, ‘Don’t Fear the Reaper,’ by Blue Oyster Cult.” She remembered how her mom would always laugh when she told that story. Thinking of Hannah, a Guardian and the second in command of all of the Guardians made her wonder where the hell the woman was. She’d thought all along that Hannah was with Jamie--but she hadn’t bee

They both looked at Adam, questioningly. Adam nodded his head. “Go and tell me what you see, will you?” He looked at his daughter. “Be careful, Melody. Don’t go too near that window. You just don’t know what might happen. From the sound of things, a battle between spirits is about to ensue.” Hearing her father acknowledge the existence of spirits was an odd thing, but she made no mention of it. Ian’s voice was weak, but his words managed to reach her ears. “Melody. My sweet Melody. I’m so sorry, my love.”

Olivia couldn’t see anything because of the light, only the sound of the deity remained in her ears. “Young recruit will have to dedicate to the galaxy. You have the white of the fairy flower, the beauty of the unicorn and you are the pride of the phoenix. Don’t let me down!” The sound made Olivia curious about her identity. Fairy flower? Unicorn? Phoenix? Why did he say that? She doesn’t know. No one tells her about that. Olivia was about to ask the deity when a powerful suction blocked her voice and pulled her into an endless black hole.

And I fucking hated the dark. I still hadn’t figured out who had breached my system. No trail, no breadcrumbs, not even the faintest flicker of an IP to follow. There were only two names that came to mind that might belong to the person. Gambit and Nyx. Those were two people who I’d heard whispers of being talented enough to pull that trick off. The names were all I had. No files. No images. No histories. Nothing. Which was exactly what made them dangerous. Ghosts were harder to fight than enemies with faces, and whoever they were, they were skilled enough to keep me blind.

She called out, her voice echoing eerily in the vast emptiness. "Ghost?" she whispered, her voice barely a sound. A chuckle, low and sardonic, filled the darkness. Then, a single figure emerged from the shadows. Tall and shrouded in darkness, its face hidden beneath a hood, this was Ghost.

Alex grumbled and I hummed, "I'll appear before my father when the time is right." "What about Ginevra, how would she know?" He asked. "You don't worry your head about that one. She'll definitely find me." She was, after all, the smartest woman I had ever known. The Ghost will be dead by the break of dawn. The Ghost—Ricardo Sanchez will undergo a rebirth by the break of dawn. But even in my confidence, my heart still shuddered with questions. Would I truly be dead by the break of dawn, or would the universe be kind enough to grant me an opportunity at yet another life?