How Long Is Ghost Rider Novels & Stories

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.

“We already christened a table.” He hurls a knife at my head. I duck, flip him off, and laugh. “You’re too fucking happy,” Ghost says. “Maybe we extend it to two weeks instead of one?” “Fuck off,” I fire back instantly. “We do that and you two start over. Full two weeks.” They both freeze. Yeah, that shut them up fast. For an hour we drink, shoot the shit, and everything feels good, really fucking good. Then my phone buzzes.

*Olivia Jillian Hunters' POV* --- Staring at my unconscious self makes me feel a bit hopeless. Why can't I go back inside? What is the matter? What is the right thing to do to make it work? I sighed and decided just to leave the room. I will get back here after I hear anything from my father about my condition. I want to know his reason for agreeing just to let me die if ever I won't show obvious signs of getting better after fourteen days. I am just wondering why I am a ghost. Maybe I'm really dead. But no, I believe I can go back, that I am still alive. Perhaps a little longer is all I need to get better. But fourteen days is like... Shit. Especially if I really did not show any improvemen

People are screaming their heads off, some praying their riders won’t screw up their bets. Felix leans forward, eyes glued to the track. I let my gaze wander to the blue tracksuit again. Max. He’s holding his own, but I can tell he’s tense, gripping those handlebars like his life depends on it. Then I see it—the bastard riding beside him. The skull logo on his helmet gives it away. He's a Ghost Rider team member. Fucking pricks. I already know what’s coming. The asshole starts closing in on Max, crowding his space and throwing him off balance. I can see Max’s hand shaking from here. Shit. If he doesn’t focus, he’s gonna eat dirt at that sharp turn ahead.

Gwen had already created a 5x5 cut design on Sadie's head feeling satisfied, she remembered that the man should be coming soon. At this moment, Marcel came back and entered the room, he had already felt from the chills outside the door that the ghost had reached Sadie's room! Rapidly mobilising his spiritual energy into his fingers, he shot at the ghost mercilessly. Gwen was still wondering what else she should do to Sadie, listening to the door open, she quickly dodged to the side and disappeared. Even though the ghost has been here for two hundred years, she was barely a mistress before she died, not some warrior trained for combat.

“I know. But you need to take your mind off the research, even if it’s just for a few minutes.” I rubbed my hands over my face... Then something clicked. “Wait,” I said suddenly. “Do you think this has anything to do with the fact that Adrian has been a ghost for so long? How many years has it been again?” She blinked. “I’m not sure… ten years, I guess?” “Exactly. Maybe there’s a time limit. A… ghost expiration date.” She stared at me. “So you think Adrian has passed the time frame?” “What other explanation is there?”

Outside, the wind picked up and sent a loose piece of tarp slapping against the garage wall in irregular intervals. I found myself watching him without intending to. Ghost was maybe mid-thirties, hard to tell precisely. His face was unlined but experienced the kind of face that had been places and made a decision not to carry them visibly. The scar on his neck caught the light at certain angles. I had assumed blade wound at first, the way it ran vertical and deliberate. But watching him work, the way he angled his head to keep his neck away from the heat of welding sparks, I revised that guess. Burn scar.

Every time, just after selecting the representative, all the young recruits fell asleep. “When will these problems be solved?”- Pure wondered. Lowen agreed with her opinion: “And this time is even more horrible. Oliwen, can you be silent?” Oliwen was worried for Olivia, he even cried. Pure told him to leave. He looked at Pure with a painful expression. “Pure, are you crazy? The child that I have raised for eight hundred years is lying here and I don’t know if she's still alive or not!” Eight hundred years is a long time and Oliwen loves Olivia like his daughter.

Cane shouted. I saw the rider launch a high-tensile wire across the width of the pipe, intending to clothesline Cane as he came around the next bank . "Lean low, Cane!" I screamed. I didn't brake. I accelerated, aiming the Ghost directly at the rider’s rear tire. I didn't hit him; I just got close enough to disrupt his air. As I swerved at the last second, I kicked out my heavy riding boot, catching the side of his fairing. It wasn't a hard hit, but at eighty miles an hour in a circular pipe, it was hard enough.