Mlp Ghost Novels & Stories

"I am a Night Hallow and yes, I do have quite the interests in machinery." "That's so cool." Noelle mumbled under his breath. "Do you mind if I asked what kind of Night Hallow you are?" "I am a ghoul." she answered him briefly. "A ghoul..?" Noelle gave Asty a puzzled look. Chaol rolled his eyes. "She's an undead monster." "I'm sorry?" "Well, Lana here," Chaol pointed at her. "Is a ghost-like being with a physical body. She looks dead, isn't she?"

I lean over and give him a peck on the cheek, careful not to put any weight onto his mending bones. “Milo, I know the doctors want to convince us otherwise, but I think Yee Naaldlooshii really pulled our spirits out of our bodies. Or… me, at least. Maybe he tried to do it to you too, but I kind of think you just got caught into… whatever he used to pull me in.” “Like… a portal to nowhere… kinda?” “Kinda?” I think about it. “That makes the most sense to me.” Milo is silent for a long moment. “Ghost thinks I got sucked in because you got sucked in. Since our spirits are fated to be together. He doesn’t remember anything after I started to feel like I was falling.”

But they all felt so fucking real. Jesus! The thought of having sex with a ghost made me sick all over. My stomach knotted as a full-blown terror took root. A fever ran down my body and my skin gallop with goose pimples. "Do you see her?" his question brought me back to reality. I nodded slowly. "So those times I see you talking to yourself, it is her you are talking to?" I motioned. "Jesus!" he exclaimed. "You need deliverance with serious prayers oh!"

Impatiently, one of them spoke up, "When are we going to make our move? I'm eager to get rid of Ghost." Noah was intrigued and asked, "Who is Ghost?" With a serious expression, Marcus responded, "He's a man, and I must say, he's responsible for creating a dangerous replica of you. It seems he's from your bloodline, which is quite shameful." Noah nodded, looking more confused than ever. Annoyed, Marcus clarified, "I mean your father."

“What is it?” His eyes never left the monitor. “You might want to see this.” “I am seeing it.” “No.” He shook his head with a quiet laugh. “Keep looking.” I narrowed my eyes and scanned the information in front of me. At first… Nothing. Just usernames, encrypted traffic, anonymous forums, and data moving across the screen. Then one name caught my attention. Ghost. Beside the name were two simple words. Recently online. I froze. Ash immediately went silent. The room seemed quieter all at once. Ghost. Everyone in the underground knew that name. Everyone on the dark web respected it. Some feared it. Ghost never failed. Ghost never left evidence behind. Ghost simply got the job done.

（William’view） After leaving Chicago, I went back to the only life I truly knew. The life of a mercenary. Five years of comfort hadn't dulled my instincts. It was like a blade that had been kept in its sheath—once drawn, it was sharper than ever. I wasn't William Windemere anymore. I was 'Ghost' Noah, the king of mercenaries who called the shots in the black market. I reveled in it. The adrenaline of calculating trajectories in a firefight, the steady rhythm of my own heartbeat on a stealth op. This was the real me. A man who lived on the edge of a knife.

is closest. After the bodies are safely hidden until the morning trash removal when I’ll already be long gone, I stand the empty shells of armor back up as if the stagnant guards remain at their posts, which assists in avoiding detection before I’m finished and out. If I’m able to get inside of the main building of the estate without killing additional guards by using discrete entrances such as picking locked wine cellar doors, picking locked windows on a higher floor level, or using maintenance tunnels, I do. I use my knowledge of the maps I study for each estate infiltration, usually popping a panel from the ceilings and traveling between the ceilings or roofs using the wooden support bea

Ghost doesn't exist and evil spirits obviously doesn't exist either. ******

"The Ghost returns to her haunts. And she brought a King with her." ​Julian’s grip on my waist tightened until it was borderline painful. I felt the low, dangerous rumble start in his chest before he even spoke. ​"Step aside, Malakai," Julian growled. ​Malakai. The name taste like ash. He was a High-Alpha of the London Underground, a man I had done business with during my third year as a "Ghost." He was the only man who had ever come close to figuring out how I masked my scent. And he was the man who had offered me a "new throne" when he found me bleeding in an alleyway three years ago.