Maternal Wraith Novels & Stories

“Make sure you go through the back door!” Tiana yelled after him, as she locked her door and crawled back into her bed. “Peasant”. She scoffed. ************* Matilda put her hand over her mouth, she could not hide the shock. The inside of the mansion looked like heaven to her, she had never seen anything like that before. She allowed her eyes to scan through the rest of the room. The walls looked like they were built with gold, the chandeliers shining brightly like she had never seen. Her focus became still, when her eyes landed on a woman's picture on the wall. She didn't need anymore to tell her, she was Jaden's mother.

That means we are in the fifth year and I am the fifth daughter. Calia's gaze lingered on the painting, her silver hair cascading elegantly over her shoulders. Despite her hostility, there was an undeniable allure to her presence—a grace that belied her sharp edges. "I wish I could see into the future," I confessed, my voice barely above a whisper. "To know if it's all worth it, and how my trials will unfold. To have all my questions answered." "There is a way," Calia interjected, her words sending a jolt of anticipation through me. "Deep within the heart of the woods, there lies a creature known as a Wraith. She is ancient and wise, and she can provide answers to your every question."

His spine was torture and he could feel his bones finally breaking bit by bit. “RYAN!” He heard his name coming from the direction of the door. He turned to see two figures rushing towards him but he couldn’t move. He was no longer in control of his body. “Arrrrghhhhh,” he yelled for the last time as he felt his whole broken bones assemble together. He was no longer himself. He was no longer standing on his two feet. “Ryan!” Sofia screamed, watching her son shift fully. The moon shone fully on him and instead of her 5ft9 son with neat dark hair and dark brown eyes , it was a full wolf with coal black eyes and fur covering its whole body that was in front of her.

Master Wraith says, “Both of you, shut up, none of this matters anyway.” His eyes narrow at me but he tells Eda, “Go to your mother.” She looks at me and then at Flicka before doing as she was commanded. Disgust fills my veins; how could she have done this to me? Her mom puts her arm around Eda and rubs her arms in a loving, motherly way. Mater Wraith says, “Now, you, I need elf blood. For real this time.” My eyebrows furrow, what did he mean by this time?

Then, she sighed, a long, drawn-out breath that seemed to carry all the weight of the knowledge she was about to share. “A wraith is the result of a death left unfinished, unresolved,” Alice began, her voice soft but tinged with something dark. “It’s a spirit, yes, but not the kind you might think. It’s not a simple ghost. A wraith is born from agony—pure, uncontrollable anger and resentment. When someone dies in such a way, with so much hatred and pain in their heart, they don’t just fade away. They linger. They transform into something... else.”

Shadows began to form, converging into wraith-like figures, their eyes glowing an eerie blue. Aria drew her weapon, standing protectively in front of Elara. "What are those?" Zephyrus whispered, "Echoes of the past. Fragments of souls lost in the time collision." One of the wraiths moved closer, its form becoming clearer, revealing a face that Elara recognized. "That's... that's my mother!" The wraith reached out, its touch cold and draining. Elara felt memories flood back, both beautiful and painful. "Mother... I'm so sorry."

They looked like giant, skeletal hands made of black glass, reaching through the mist to snatch the flickering ghosts of the failed children. The blue girl screamed, her form beginning to dissolve as a Wraith’s fingers closed around her. "NO!" Leo roared. My son didn't wait for me. He didn't wait for the Sovereign. He lunged forward, his tiny projection igniting with a brilliance that blinded even my eyes. He grabbed the Wraith’s skeletal finger and pulled. A surge of the Prometheus Sequence—the blood of the human brother, the sacrifice of Julian—shot through the ghost-child. The Wraith didn't just break; it shattered. The entropic data couldn't handle the "Sequence." It was like pouring boi

What he didn't know was that someone had already informed Amelia about the situation. As the Wraith Infant, it remained in the womb of the undead for several lifetimes without reincarnation, making it more sensitive to changes in human emotions. "Amelia, something was just not right." The Wraith Infant didn't even suck on cakes anymore. (As is well known, wraiths, which are deceased souls, don't eat things in the traditional sense, but rather absorb them. For example, when a wraith consumes a cake, it loses all its sweetness, and when a person eats it, it feels like chewing on wax.)

is on her knees. Staring at me like she's looking at the wrong prophecy. "You..." she whispers. Her voice hoarse, shaking. "You weren't supposed to have it. Not all of it. Not now -" "You were wrong," I rasp. "About everything." Cyre utilizing Mathilda's moment of confusion and fear, binds her. Talum Tapi.... A rope appears binding both of Mathilda's hands to the ground. When she struggles the rope burns into her skin. Cyre says, her voice low and reverent: "The Death Mother has awakened at last."