Ghostly Hollow Novels & Stories

Ghost is a dark fae, which means he’s greedy, likes death, and likes pretty women with spunk. His short white hair is spiked. Ghost wears a black sleeveless hoodie and black and white checkered jeans with black boots. His eyebrows, nose, and lips are all pierced with gages in both ears. His pointed ears give him away that he is fae. Ghost has all black eyes, much like one would think a demons would be if they were real. Some things are just stories made up of distorted truths. Demons and angels fall into that category. Ghost's pasty white skin almost glows under the glow of the flashing lights.

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.

Ayla Roth had never believed in ghosts—not until the night her grandmother died and left her a mansion that shouldn't exist. She stood at the rusting gates of Ebon Hollow, rain dripping from the edge of her hood, staring at the towering silhouette carved from stone and shadows. The place had been wiped from city records, tucked behind miles of forgotten forest and fog. And yet, somehow, it bore her name now. The last Roth. The key had come in a black envelope with no stamp, sealed with crimson wax bearing a crest she didn’t recognize: a wolf pierced through the heart by a sword.

Lovers in secret. But as they read on, darker things begin to surface. The couple repeatedly references something they call The Hollow One. Local legend says, If you linger in the valley after dark, do not answer the voice that sounds like your own. The oldest tales warn of a hunger that waits beneath the stones, formless and patient, thin as a shadow but deeper than the graves. No one says its real name twice. The name appears often. Always accompanied by warnings. Fear. Urgency. One entry reads:

The air tasted wrong—metallic and stale, like a room that hadn't been opened in a hundred years. "They're here," I said. I looked toward the entrance at the far end of the rink. Three figures stepped out . They weren't wearing hockey gear. They were wearing ragged black suits. Their skin was the color of a bruise, and their eyes were glowing with a sickly, pulsing purple light. The Hollow Ones. They didn't even howl. The first one leaped onto the ice, its claws extending six inches from its fingertips. It swiped at a defensive player, sending the boy flying into the boards with a sickening thud.

“It’s not physical. It’s in his soul.” I thought as much... But unfortunately, that makes it more difficult to even do anything now. A whisper rides in the wind. I don’t know who speaks it first. Maybe one of the old fae who linger at the edges of the battlefield. Maybe one of the dying spirits. "The Hollow has taken him." My blood goes cold. The Hollow. It’s not death, not exactly. It’s the space between, a veil-thin plane where souls are neither here nor gone. Where time frays and memories decay. Where you forget who you are.

“Well, it’s no wonder he didn’t bother trying to help with that ridiculous undertaking. Of course I don’t know. Why would Larkin even know? He’s not a demon.” “Yeah, but… the Reapers use them, too. There’s one in Reaper’s Hollow, and Thanatos and his horde of monsters have been using it to go back and forth, talking to Azrael and the other demon guys.” She knew she sounded ridiculous, or at the very least, uninformed. All of this was just too much.

He wasted no time weaving through the mass of spirits as he barreled across the charred ground to the mess house. Roy braved a look in Angel’s direction. Jackson was right. She was getting uncomfortably close and the spirits that had proven themselves lethal by tearing Harold into pieces only to become like zombies were acting a bit more animated. “Did ya make that change in the spirits? Is it yer magic that’s keeping them calm?”

He yelled out a spell, while cursing the woman who was right behind him, Jenny. "You traitor! You brought me here to be killed..? You'll forever regret this you bitch! What an ass hole you are, traitor! I'll deal mercilessly with you, I promise you swine!" There was a look of a scared beast on his face. The shadow moved closer, and when the final moment struck, the shadow's mouth opened up in fury. Malison turned again to Jenny as he met her gaze. The shadow became a hungry monster, showing its fist, ready for action. Malison's vampire charged up, and released the first strike, but the shadow dogged and blocked the swing. The impact of the fist was heavy. He gripped his sword and came at Mal

as his hand in addition of the water moves on her clit and she closes her eyes in ecstasy and he smiles and move his finger in to her pussy and she moans out and he puts in a second finger and she throwaway her head back into the bath tub and she tightens her eyes and he puts his hand deeper into her and she moans her and he began to move his hand in and out of her and she held his hand for him not to stop and she began to moan loud and her husband smiles while she moan uncontrollably and she came and he washes her and he Carrie’s her a bridal style into the bedroom. Evelyn ghost returns into the house, she sob so hard. Evelyn mom sits beside her son and he wakes up feeling so much pain and