Ghostly Wail Danny Phantom Novels & Stories

Her boots echoed in the cavernous space as she stepped onto the cold cement floor. A mechanical hum started. Lights flickered on. Dozens of masked men emerged from the shadows. Silent. Armed. And then— Ghost. He wore a sleek matte-black helmet, no features, voice warped by a modulator. “You came,” Ghost said. “I don’t break promises,” Juliette replied, chin high. He stepped closer. “And yet, you’ve broken everything else. The empire. The legacy. Damon’s illusions.” She didn’t flinch. “Where’s the boy?”

Those eyes lifted and locked on mime and the glass instantly stopped moving. “The dead has no business with the living, Riven Cole,” he said, voice low enough that only I heard the tremor under it. “We don't tend to corpses here.” I crossed the distance, my boots leaving wet prints on sawdust, then I placed my hands on the counter and said in a low voice, “Then pour one for a ghost.” The room seemed to respond to my words like they heard me, a hush spreading round. I heard a chair scraping the ground and seconds later, someone in the back muttered “traitor”.

I stared at her, this woman so different from the one I remembered, and felt utterly lost. Was this really the woman I had loved all those years? "Carrie!" A sharp, anguished cry cut through the air from inside the car—it was my father. He had just watched the love of his life, his wife of decades, lying in a pool of blood. Grief overtook him, and he struggled to break free from the car, but his captors held him in place. Adeline's face twisted into a sinister smile. Through the car window, she said in a low, cold voice, "Tell Samuel to come out right now and perform the surgery—or his mother won't make it."

“What is it?” His eyes never left the monitor. “You might want to see this.” “I am seeing it.” “No.” He shook his head with a quiet laugh. “Keep looking.” I narrowed my eyes and scanned the information in front of me. At first… Nothing. Just usernames, encrypted traffic, anonymous forums, and data moving across the screen. Then one name caught my attention. Ghost. Beside the name were two simple words. Recently online. I froze. Ash immediately went silent. The room seemed quieter all at once. Ghost. Everyone in the underground knew that name. Everyone on the dark web respected it. Some feared it. Ghost never failed. Ghost never left evidence behind. Ghost simply got the job done.

I suddenly hear a man's voice ripping me from my thoughts I turn around quickly trying to find the source of the voice but find no one. "Yeah, um over here," I hear again from by the counter. I turn back around to look at the mirror and my eyes widen when Death is staring right back at me, with his golden eyes boring right into mine. "Uh, hey," I say awkwardly and wave at him from the mirror He chuckles and my cheeks burn before he reaches through the mirror, grabbing the collar of my shirt as I am lifted off the ground, and through the mirror.

Danny smiled at her as he said, "Baby, let's get married. We have been together for a year now. Plus, since we've seen each other's bodies, it is right for us to hurry with this marriage otherwise we won't be accepted into heaven after we die." Oh well, it was, even more, scarier that Danny kept preaching about life and death, as well as the sins that they have been doing together. He was someone who had never bothered about life after death because he would laugh at the matter whenever Mira spoke about his wildlife. But now, he had turned into a man with a pure soul, so pure to the point it had frustrated Mira because she seemed couldn't taint his heart black again. "Danny, let go of me!" M

I bit my lip hard enough to taste blood. The door creaked, and Phantom strolled in with his trademark calm, though tonight he wasn’t wearing his pristine white suit. Instead, black clung to his frame, sharp as a blade. His smile was venomous. “Well, well,” Phantom drawled, circling Damon like a predator. “How the mighty have fallen. You’re not looking so sharp, Damon.” Damon lifted his head, spitting blood onto the floor. “Go to hell.” Phantom chuckled. “Oh, we’re already there.” His voice dropped, sharp with menace. “Where’s the flash drive?”

He almost whispered. The werewolf suddenly realized his grave error. “Please forgive me—” “You failure!” Ghost snarled and flicked his hand. A curved, shiny and metal instrument of death flew out of his hand and straight into the werewolf’s neck with a wet chunk. Watery choke sounds filled the room, acting as a gruesome background music to Ghost’s toe-curling voice as he yelled to the guards standing in the shadows. “Spread the word far and wide, Rhea Damon is now at the top of my wanted list. Anyone who brings her back to me, dead or alive will receive my honored reward!”