Look Into My Eyes Ghost Rider Novels & Stories

My eyes whip towards it and I go still as my gaze lands on two angry blood-red eyes looking around the room before landing on me. Tyrone.

the Don boomed in anger, I only laughed which seemed to fuel his anger, his minion tied me to the chair and I didn't even struggle, I was doing a staring contest with the beast who was throwing me daggers with his eyes, I think I found a new hobby, and it's digging my grave further, I already established the fact since a long time that my grave was already dug, I gave the beast a wink, digging my grave further, at least if they're going to tie my mouth, so I can't speak, I could at least use my eyes, maybe until he decides to pull them out.

My weaknesses. A chill runs down my spine that has nothing to do with blood loss. "Ryder," I whisper. "What?" "It's watching us. The one that got away." Ryder follows my gaze. For a moment, we both stare at those glowing red eyes in the darkness. Then they blink out. Gone. But I can still feel them. Can still feel that hungry, hateful stare boring into me even after they disappear. "Come on," Ryder says, his voice tight. "We need to get you to the medical wing. Now."

“You can do it.” “No one must see my eyes,” She whispered, her voice thick with fear even more than the agony. I immediately understood. Her eyes usually ignited with a purple glow, and some people, especially Mr. Grim Reaper was looking for the one with the purple eyes. I pulled her close, using my body as a shield.

She opened it with her key from her silver necklace and rushed inside. The room was empty and there was no sign that someone had entered the room. All things were untouched, and there were no footmarks on the floor. What’s happening to me? Why am I seeing her? Who is she? Is she Esmeralda’s ghost? She investigated the lobby area and the rooms closer to the pink room, but still, no one was there. Not even a shadow of a rat. She sighed and knocked on Leonardo’s room before opening in.

There was nowhere left to run. But he didn't stop. He kept coming closer, his towering, unclad frame cutting through the white vapor like an unholy apparition. As he stepped into my immediate space, the sheer panic in my chest gave way to a sudden, jarring realization. Something was fundamentally wrong. His piercing blue eyes weren't actually focused on me. His gaze was clouded, swimming with a dark, detached haze as if he were looking straight through my flesh and blood to confront a ghost from his past.

I entered his room in my second invisible form that even though he sees ghosts he won't be able to see me. He was shirtless! Wow! Such a big chest with six bony stuff on his belly. I don't know what those are but I anyway kept watching. He was about to pull off his shorts but suddenly stopped. "Get out of my room this minute or our deal is off!" He shouted "How did you know I was here?" I asked, bewildered. "That's none of your business, leave before I change my mind and call off our deal!" He stared hostilely in my direction and that was when I noticed his eyes colors were dark green.

"Wait. I need to know. Why did, uhm, whatever, carelessly pick me?" "Go back." The woman wasn't paying her any attention. She kept on plucking cowries and attaching them to her head. "What is he? Oh, don't answer that one. He's a ghost. I know that. Why is he in that state? No, no, why can I see him? Why can l feel his touch, ghosts can't do that, can they? What does he need me for?" The old woman stopped her scaly hands from further movements and stared directly at Geneva through her foggy eyes that obviously saw clearly.

For a moment, he sighed and then raised the frames of his drooping glasses to the bridge of his droopy nose. “Please come in, Madam. See! It's a miracle. Your husband is awake and able to speak normally." The doctor stepped out after tapping my shoulder a few times. We look. The doctor's height made me have to look up a little to freely see his face. The wind whistled in my ear. I flinched and turned my gaze to the corner of the room. "Jack!" I cried to myself when I found a man with bare chest and piercing eyes standing like a silhouette in the corner of Kevin's treatment room.

He simply stood there, his breathing settling into a jagged, rhythmic pattern, his eyes locked onto her face. The gray in his eyes, once the color of a stormy sea, was now something darker, something vacant. He was looking at her, but she couldn't tell if he was seeing Lily Mendoza, or if he was looking at the ghost of the woman who had ruined him all those years ago.