Hmong Ghost Novels & Stories

With a click, the clasp came undone, and the pendant fell to the floor. In a flash, Zoe’s eyes widened. She grabbed my collar like a madwoman. “Y-You… You didn’t switch fates? You lied to me?!” I looked at her in surprise. “What are you talking about?” Miles suddenly exclaimed, “Ow, Maisie. My neck feels itchy.” He pulled down his collar, exposing his collarbone, and clearly revealed who was actually wearing the demonic fate-swapping lock.

Then the rider lifted both hands. Not in surrender. With caution. Like someone approaching a wounded animal. Their voice came out distorted through a modulator. “Ghost,” they said softly. Everything inside me stilled. Only three people ever called me that. One was dead—Saint. One should’ve been dead—Shade. And the third… The third was an ally long buried in the dark. A ghost from my old life. The rider reached up and slowly—very slowly—removed their helmet. My breath caught.

There was fresh blood on the floor, but the animal didn't react. I took a shaky step forward, my heart hammering against my ribs. The wolf didn't turn. I walked closer, standing five feet away and holding my bleeding hand out. Nothing. I walked until I was standing right next to the bars, inches from the cold metal. The wolf threw itself at the cage again, trying to get to Declan. Its claws sparked against the iron. It ignored me completely. I was invisible. "You really are a Ghost," Declan said softly. He walked up beside me. He raised the knife again and sliced his own palm.

Dangerous. She was still thinking about it when the message arrived at 9:47 PM. Ghost: Private session. One hour. I want to see you in something new. Aria’s stomach flipped. She sat on the edge of her bed, heart already beating faster. Aria: What do you want me to wear? Ghost: Crimson lace teddy. Sheer. The one with the deep V in front and open back. No bra. No panties underneath. Hair down. Lights low. Be ready in fifteen minutes.

"Who is he?" "A butcher," Hugo said, leaning over the table. "He doesn't use street punks. He uses professional ghost squads out of Osaka. They fly in on commercial flights, blend into the tourist blocks, do the hit, and vanish before the blood even dries." "The Feds are monitoring international arrivals," Ella countered, her voice shaking.

She said, but the case was crystal clear. "No, am serious about this Henry needs your help." "Thats a lie." "No its true." "I believe her, she's telling the truth. That ghost still hasn't crossed over to the other side in almost three hundred years." Charles second said. "I agree. We must leave for Greenville." Another says. Melanie also agreed to know more. "The Star Gazers has tracked down a couple of ghosts and found them heading to the west. Normally I wouldn't suspect them, but none has crossed over to the other side and to top it all, Zonal Coordinators has gone missing."

Achilles nodded to Helga encouraging her to explain. “Well, with the help of our Queen and Prince Achilles, we learnt that, Dhampirs that happen to have familiars often have differing abilities, for example, the ability to partially shift and they are able to access abilities that are normally exclusive to their familiars,” Helga explained. Seraphina nodded slowly in understanding.

Amanda tried to copy her decency, she craned her neck, as she skimmed her carefully. Mercy tittered and gushed. “don’t worry I will teach you.” She crooned Angela could barely hear them, her eyes looked at the stairs, she barely paid attention at them. She waited for them eagerly. they walked in; Melina marched on her hounds making a sharp click-clack as they walked down the stairs. Mercy looked mortified as she spoke to them. ‘‘it’s my mom, she loves wearing hounds, you will get used to the sound.’’ Her face said it all; she was pissed with that atmosphere; it must be really eating her up.

Everything about that bus screamed 'money'. 'What a sumptuous bus this is. I wonder how its interior is?' He couldn't help but admire the fine grand bus which was colored in red. After all, this was his old habit. To appreciate the beauty no matter if it belonged to a person or even a thing. Suddenly, the glass of one of the windows of the other bus slid open, and someone emerged out of it. "Aye! Yooo!! If it isn't the poor and miserable Ghost Busters team!? Eh!?" A guy with black hair tied in a ponytail with a patchy beard came into everyone's view as they heard his mocking voice.