Ghosts Aesthetic Novels & Stories

She could still feel the weight of a thousand predatory eyes on her skin, the silent calculations of men in silk suits and women with diamond-encrusted hearts. They had looked at her and seen a gold-digger, a fluke, a weak link in the Voss empire. "I’m not a link," she whispered to the empty, shadowed room. "I’m a ghost in a dead man’s house." She moved toward the center of the room, her cheap sneakers feeling like a sacrilege against the hand-woven Persian rugs. The master suite was a monument to Kael Dominic Voss’s brutal aesthetic: dark woods, deep charcoals, and sharp, clean lines that offered no comfort, only control.

At least not anymore… From what I remember in my dreams, he was a real person before and lived in this house. Then, he was the ghost, like the real ghost. They say ghosts are scary. So why this one isn't scary at all? He's just… handsome. Yes, this ghost figure is handsome. I'm not ashamed to admit that I compliment the appearance of a ghost, because that's how it is. When he looked at me I could see his adorable doe eyes, his pointed nose, thin lips, and his thick, neat eyebrows. It seemed this figure had completely taken on the appearance of a handsome human.

None what so ever! They were as figures of my conjecture; No! they were phantoms! without a doubt ... ghosts! I was a notorious muse for one time date ghosts! 'Scoffs unbelievably at her own inner thoughts' I trusted them to be humans who could possibly be my life companions. Some window shoppers they were!Hey? It only ever went as far as a kiss on the forehead. Yeah! Right? It is not as if I desperately wanted to be laid! No! That was easy to do, but Nah! Don't want any stranger's infectious hands all over me .... eeeww! Disgusting!

I began to chant as I felt the blood of Ares mixing with my own until I could feel his power coursing through my veins. I lift my hand and outstretched it until my long black fingernail was technically touching the barrier around the clearing. I watch as the tip of my nails began to bend until it melt. I smirked before retracting my hand. "Ester darling, I see you are not happy that I am visiting you today." I spoke and summoned one of my crows. This one name was Ghost, he had a liking for lost souls that lingered on earth.He could spot them quickly, something I have used him for occasionally when I want to suck some of the souls power. There is nothing more delicious than a wandering soul.

" Wow! It doesn't seem like she can see ghosts hmm. Yes she can see ghosts but she doesn’t want to tell to other people about that. "But you can see ghost duh!” I said with full of sarcasm. "Yep. If it's a real ghost, and are you scared in ghosts? Opps.. you’re a ghoster remember?" And my crazy friend laughed as if she wasn't a ghoster too. "Wow am I the only ghoster here? You too" I muttered to her. "Hmm Aeshe whats the feeling of being ghosted?” she asked me out of nowhere. "Did you see the guys who cry when we are leaving them? And to see a guy crying with just a week of flirting with them it would have been a lot of pain that it caused them to cry like that." I said to her.

He stood at the end of the block, his figure shadowed by the dim streetlights, but the mask caught my eye immediately. It wasn't just any mask—it was hauntingly beautiful. A skull, bleached greyish white against black fabric. It covered his entire face, leaving only his eyes exposed. But those eyes... they were dark, watching everything with a predator's intensity, cutting through the night like he was born in it. It was sexy in a terrifying kind of way—like he knew exactly how much fear could excite someone. Ghost's body was built, all muscle, and the confidence in his walk made something inside me coil tight.

"Elle, you need to see this.” Ghost calls out. I push the knife a little harder into the Collector’s shoulder before jumping to my feet. I give him one last look before turning my back on him. His fingers have stopped twitching; even if I take the knife out, the damage is most likely permanent, and he’s no threat to me anymore. I see Ghost has walked behind the counter; he has a computer in front of him and the glow of the screen is lighting him up, making him look like some kind of otherworldly ghost. I kind of get the name but it seems more like a punishment to me, like his parents judged him on how he looked when he was born and decided to brand him with the name forever.

Hugo said, turning to Dawn and Valerie, his eyes staying on Dawn. However, the latter didn’t think much of it. Are ghosts really that scary? For a person who has died once and was technically a soul that replaced someone else’s, would she still be afraid of ghosts? At the moment, she was bored. As they were walking, they caught up with Jace’s group. “What is it? Did you see something?” Ashlyn asked. “Yeah.. Look up. Don’t you see a shadow? Look! It has red eyes!” Jace pointed at the second floor as he crouched slightly.

"Look where you are. Nobody asked for your opinion. And honestly, you weren't shy at all when you threw yourself at me. "Ms. Sanchez was young and fearless. What would a cheap mistress like you know about that?" Then Philipp switched to a flattering smile and started showering me with compliments. Grace stood there frozen. The looks from the surrounding guests and the whispers spreading through the room made her face burn. She had never been humiliated like this. Watching Philipp—the man she'd worked so hard to please—fawn over me only made the jealousy worse. Before she could react, Philipp ordered his bodyguards to throw her out.

The air tasted of salt, expensive espresso, and the lingering scent of wet acrylic. There, sitting at a long, hand-carved table of reclaimed oak, were the four ghosts who still ruled my world. Dante and Julian looked like they had finally negotiated a permanent ceasefire with time. Dante’s hair was a stark, regal white, but his shoulders remained as broad as a mountain range, his scarred hands steady as he poured a vintage Nero d'Avola for a man who had once been his greatest rival’s heir. Julian sat beside him, lean and predatory as ever, his eyes still flickering with the green digital rain of a thousand simultaneous equations. He was currently debating the "Mathematics of Aesthetic Value"