Ghosts Aesthetic Novels & Stories

The dinner plate was overturned and crashed onto the floor with a piercing noise. Patrick’s hands trembled uncontrollably, his phone nearly slipping from his grasp. He roared in fury, "What the hell are you talking about? What rental apartment? Are you messing with me? Do you have a death wish?"

My entire body trembled from within, and as he saw me so rigidly with my lips slightly parted. "Hey, what's wrong? Did I say anything wrong?" He held me as I was gradually slipping to the ground. Nothing I could answer. Nothing anyone I could say. He pulled me up, back to my feet. He didn't make me stand. He just grabbed my arm and put it across his shoulders, and wrapped his arms around my body. He did not let go. I have no idea what was going through my mind. I couldn't form words to answer his question. My eyes were wide open and streaming with tears and he took in every single emotion I had. Illusions are what you create when you have something that cannot be seen with the physical eye b

The fabric slipped slightly, exposing more of my skin to his gaze. “And me?” he let out a humorless laugh, “Most of the time, I’m Alessandro Costello. A tech genius. A mobster. A killer. A hacker. A murderer. But then—” he paused, snapping open another button, “Then there’s Ghost. And Ghost? He’s pissed at the world, Red. So fucking angry. At everything. At women. Especially women. And he doesn’t even know why. He doesn’t understand what made him this way, but he’s past caring.” Alessandro’s hand stopped on the last undone button of the jacket, the fabric now barely holding its place on my shoulders and then with a mere twist of his wrist, the last button popped open.

He stood straight with a serious face as he began his explanation. "Ghosts are the souls of dead humans who... well, aren't ready to rest in peace. They don't have powers. All they can do is move from one place to another without being seen. Well, not by everyone though." "But... if you're a demon, why then are you in this form?" She couldn't help but ask.

Marcus, the quiet guy from accounting leaned against the door, arms crossed, with a bitter smirk twisting his lips. “McAllen,” he said. “You’ve been looking real happy lately. I see you enjoy your late night with the boss.” My stomach dropped. “What the hell are you talking about?” He stepped closer, I could see the jealousy in his eyes. “ I saw you leaving the private elevator. Looking like a man whose ass has taken some cock. You’re not the first, you know. The Ghost destroys anyone who tries to get close. You’re just the latest toy.” “The Ghost?” I laughed it off, but my voice sounded shaky even to me. “Sounds like some movie legend bullshit.”

Something doesn’t add up with her right now. “Her emotions are gone.” Ghost says in awe. “How did she do that?” I let myself focus for a beat to see what he’s talking about. He’s right. It’s all gone. The flood of negativity has suddenly dried up. Everything that remains feels muted and bland, like a faded watercolor painting. There’s something else, though. I guess you could call it control mixed with a pleasant calm. It doesn’t feel genuine. Just a facade. How DID she do that? Why did she do that? What else is she hiding?

Aesthetic's POV: “ I see… “ I murmured while looking at Spade's cold eyes then gulped many times to settle this uncomfortable feeling. “ I’m Aesthetic, but you can all call me Thea. “ I stated while wearing a fake smile on my face. How can I even smile if I know that I was sorrounded by these non-human creatures? They're all gorgeous but the fact that they have some hidden fangs inside their mouths make me wanna run away from here.

“Ghost, control him.” Cursing loudly, Ghost lurched to the side. For a moment it looked like he lost his balance, but that wasn’t the case. He slammed into Damon with a snarl, his face pale from the poison his body was fighting. Damon’s flames flickered but wrapped around them both in tendrils. As the two went careening to the side, Ghost’s ability took hold in small bursts when the two of them vanished, phasing through the wall. Ghost couldn’t turn others incorporeal the same way he could himself. It happened in small bursts and almost always left him recovering for days on end. This time would be worse given the poison.

"You’ve cleared the site. You’ve removed the threats. Why are you still looking for ghosts?" He gripped my waist, his fingers digging into the fabric of my dress. "Because ghosts are the only things that can walk through walls, Eden. And Silas Vane is the best ghost in the business." "I haven't seen him; I doubt I'll see him while I'm indoors," I said, the lie tasting like copper in my mouth. "He’s just a name in a file to me now."

The words kept echoing inside my head, replaying over and over like a dark promise I couldn’t escape. I sat up fast, pulling the oversized silk shirt down over my thighs. Julian was already awake. He stood by the window in nothing but black boxer briefs, his broad back and strong legs fully on display. The Ghost of Wall Street looked untouchable, like he didn’t belong in the same world as anyone else. He turned. His sharp blue eyes moved over me in the bed. For a second, hunger flashed there, then it was gone, locked back behind his usual control.