Miramounts Ghost Novels & Stories

Unreal. Because it wasn’t real. And waiting on the central platform stood the Phantom Mira. She wore the same face. Same build. But her eyes were cold fire. Her voice echoed with layered distortion. “You came.” Mira stepped forward. “This ends now.” The phantom tilted her head. “I agree.” With a snap of her fingers, the sky shattered. And Mira fell. She landed in the corrupted archive—the twisted remains of the old system’s memory core. Data fragments floated around like ash. Mira rose slowly, heart pounding.

The host chuckled, masking a hint of envy in her voice. "Welcome to 81.9 GistFM, I'm Aaaa-manda, and we're ready to delve into something spooky today. Though Halloween isn't here yet, we'll be discussing the supernatural, including Vampires, Werewolves, Ghosts, and even Witches. If young ones are tuned in, you might want to switch off the radio. But first, let's get down to business - do you believe in these supernatural entities? Miranda halted.

The air was so thick with tension that Serena squinted her eyes, opening her mouth to respond, but then another voice pierced the atmosphere. “It is true, you know, Serena,” Mira said with a venemous voice. Mira crept out from the shadows with a playful smile. She wasn't a stranger here — one of the people Serena had always trusted in the pack, and with good reason. Mira was now no longer a ghost — she was a deadlier ghost. “What are you doing here?” she had looked at Lucian and Elias, who had both gone stiff, when she had said it — Serena’s voice had been so sharp there had been no mistaking it.

They weren't just fighting an army; they were fighting a "Format." "The Liquid Gold is the Architects' lifeblood!" Maya shouted through the bond, her voice a fragile vibration. She was riding on the back of the liquid metal creature, her fingers still clutching a tablet that was now nothing more than a shard of violet crystal. "If the Eye fires its final beam, the gold will be 'Re-distributed' into the audience. They will forget the North, and we will become 'Ghost Data' in a dead system!"

The gambler's spirit shrieked and dissolved into black smoke that seeped into the carpet. "You'll really do it?" Frank stared. "I will." I picked up the pen. "But I have one condition." "You dare to bargain?" "The moment I walk out that door, I have nothing to do with this family. You pay your own debts, you handle your own troubles, and you never come looking for me again." I signed my name, the letters of 'Aurora' digging into the paper with force. The ghost in the portrait raised an eyebrow, then floated down and leaned close to my ear. An icy breeze brushed against my neck.

Her mood turned gloomy because she knew, Mira was one of the fans who adored Luca Tybelg and it would only spell trouble if she blabs about the happening during lunch break. Mira was well-known in the company because of her exquisite beauty. She had long wavy black hair, big chests, sexy lips, a high nose, mesmerizing black eyes and beautifully angled cheeks. Her curvy body made her even gorgeous. She could be a supermodel because she was as beautiful as one, but, she chose to work in the travel agency. Maybe because of her beauty, a lot of people trusted her but no one knows that she was a two-faced coin. Jennet was probably the only person who could see through her mask because Mira always

With a final shove, he slammed Grayson against the cold metal of the morgue drawer. "This is her. Look at her! Look at the woman you abandoned—my sister!" Liam's voice was an icy blade, sharp and cutting. He forced Grayson to stare at my frozen body, lying there, still and lifeless. Grayson shut his eyes tight, his lips trembling as he muttered incoherently, "No, no, this isn't Belle. This can't be her! She's selfish, cruel, and vindictive. Someone like that doesn't just die—she wouldn't—she couldn't."

It had control over all of them, while she could only tap into three at any given time. Her Mirror Ghosts were optimized as much as she could, but even then they took up the majority of her allocated space. She watched as ComInt opened up more nodes and activated a third MemVault for itself.

I watch my mouth move, feel my vocal cords vibrate, but there's a disconnect—as if I'm watching someone else speak with my voice. Ghost-me materializes beside me, her translucent form flickering like a dying flame. Her lips don't move, but her whisper cuts through the cacophony with crystalline clarity: "You're not talking, sister. The Mirror Realm is speaking through you... channeling your will into sound so your other selves could hear it. It won't last." Horror creeps up my spine like ice. The realm has been using me as a conduit, translating my desperate thoughts into audible words. But if Ghost-me is right, if this borrowed voice is temporary...