Katie Ghost Ship Novels & Stories

AS of right now, The Sea Cheta ship that Duchess Kolarova and her 4 confidant were sailing actually looked like a jet propelled ship that gliding through water, so fast that if anyone who saw it can only see a shiloutte of blurs splashing waters across the sea. “GENERAL!!..IT’S PIRATE SHIP!!..”. (Aida Oneal) As they were concentrate rowing their inhumanely fast ship, their path ahead were blocked, Aida Oneal was fast to see the ship flag, it was the famous black flack that were waving on top of the ship sail. Aida who doesn’t stop paddling shouted back to her general to warned her. “DON’T STOP!!…EVERYONE FULL SPEED!!..BRACE!!! BRACE!!!!…HHAARRRRGGGGHHHH!!!!!!!!….”. (Duchess Kolarova)

Her thoughts went to Celie and she wondered where her cousin was. The actor playing the Ember Ghost growled at the crew who ran in every direction before standing against the ship’s railings while looking at the dark specter. Then, the Ember Ghost went to each of the crew, pretending to hypnotize them using his hand and then sucking their blood until they fell limply to the deck. Afterwards, the Ember Ghost stood on a platform and rose his hands to the air while looking at the crowd. “I’m coming to get you!” he shouted, followed by rousing music that crescendoed as red lights flashed on the ship.

Cool! "Okay. I guess you aren't aware that there are four other ghosts around here. There they are." I told her as I pointed to the other entities around the place, and she just shrugged her shoulders in response. "That's why I don't get scared." She said and opened the paper bag that she bought from that Fuller-dude at the convenience store. I noticed she bent down and lit up some candles; then, she placed them on each side of the tombstone before us. And I just noticed the names written on it.

“Four minutes left. Let us go.” Four whole minutes pass and the one lone scout upon the hill of the six-mile mark has been torn to shreds like a wild animal has ripped it apart from limb to limb. Its stomach is opened, seeping out of its origin. Its face is torn up so badly that she is unrecognizable. The trident that was once the foundation upon which she built a soldier’s life upon is broken in two. Catarina stands at the apex of this hill that overlooks most, if not all, the wildlands. Her mouth is covered in blood. The same liquid coats the neck and upper breast of her armor. Norvin is off to the side kneeling down and scoping the area before them. In the distance, far from their positio

Bluedorn scowled, caressing her river-bloated abdomen; Minty with his gashed throat; an unfamiliar woman who sported a red-white-and-blue heart in the middle of her blood-soaked top. One of the Confederate dead lumbered among them. They seethed with fathomless turmoil, regurgitated it, their murderous intent apparent. Richard watched the shades loom where they were, none of them attempting to verge the road, their eyes hollow, mouths baying yet no sound issuing forth. What fresh hell? his writerly mind clucked. “They can’t cross over,” repeated Katie, “no matter what they do. Can’t cross the gulf.” She spoke low into her father’s ear. “They’re trapped.”

Nearby, a torn shirt fluttered in the wind. It was stained with blood. Isabella’s breath hitched behind me. “That’s Kelly’s,” she whispered, stepping closer. “I recognize the stitching — I helped her sew that damn sleeve back on.” She touched the fabric with trembling fingers, but I could see it — she wasn’t going to break. She was already planning the next step. Gods, she was dangerous when she went quiet like that. Mason returned, his face grim. “Found a captain who remembers seeing a cargo ship leave two nights ago. No paperwork. Paid in cash. Headed south.”

Fragments of sparks scattered on the sea and quickly dissipated. The sea breeze howled, and the air was filled with the strong smell of gunpowder, choking the senses. The night turned pitch black as the 66th pier witnessed the destruction of the three cargo ships. The atmosphere immediately tensed up. The members of the Ghost Gang quickly retreated, leaving only Leo, a dozen assassins, and five figures positioned at vantage points. The police sirens blared, and the sea breeze howled, rolling waves of gun smoke filled the air as Mr. Marcus's white overcoat billowed and rustled in the wind, contrasting with Saxon's presence, like two worlds colliding.

“Yeah. Right.” “Status?” Conner asked without looking away from me. Hayden straightened, slipping back into soldier mode. “Flare burned out. Boarders pulled off. We lost… we lost some crates.” He swallowed, glanced at Dom. “Not all.” Dom raked a hand through his hair. “Who the hell hits a moving ship like that? No pattern. No call sign. One minute they’re there, the next...” He shook his head. “Ghosts.” “Got a good look at ‘em?” Conner asked.

“I’m Finn, Beta of the Midnight Crescent Pack.” Midnight Crescent. The name struck like ice in my veins. A whisper of old stories, blood soaked and brutal, tangled in my mind. Ruthless. Unforgiving. The kind of pack that showed no mercy to its enemies. My face must have betrayed the thought because Finn chuckled, low and knowing. “You should see yourself right now. I doubt you knew which pack you crossed. If you had, you would’ve stayed far, far away. Your face says it all.” Heat rushed to my cheeks, but my voice finally clawed its way out. “Aria Vale.”

Subtle, but I notice everything. Klaus de Luca. He didn’t see me as he entered a room alone. I didn’t hesitate. Silently, smoothly, I followed. The door was just starting to close when— CRASH! A vase flew at my head. I ducked instinctively, the ceramic shattering against the wall behind me. I straightened slowly, blade already drawn. Then I heard his voice. Low. Calculated. “So... you’re the Ghost Knife. The woman with no past. No future. Who sent you ? .”