Mw2 Ghosts Novels & Stories

I reached out and pressed the radio button on the steering wheel. My voice was cold, cutting through the static. "Mason Vale, do you see a ghost in your mirror?" I said coldly into the radio. Those words pierced straight through Mason's last line of composure. His car hesitated for an obvious instant on the straight. Now. I smashed the throttle down. The car tore through the air and pulled alongside him. Ahead was a chain of fast S-curves. Seeing that I was about to pass, a vicious look flashed through Mason's eyes.

In an abandoned warehouse, my mother was tied up in the middle of the open floor, her body covered in bloody slash marks. She looked up at the woman before her, her face twisted in pain. "Adeline... I'm your mother-in-law. How could you do this to me?" Adeline Malone paused mid-motion while touching up her makeup. A cold smirk curved her red lips, her beautiful face dripping with contempt. "Then tell your selfish son to crawl out of hiding. Do that, and I'll let the rest of you go."

The sympathy that had filled the room disappeared. Now people looked at Richard with suspicion. Disgust. Unease. "No..." Richard's eyes turned red. "No. Selena... you're joking, right?" His voice cracked. "That's impossible. Chloe can't be dead. "Please. Listen to me. It's not what you think." For the first time, there was something in his eyes I had never seen before. Desperation. And regret.

A wave of shock and murmuring rippled through the meeting room. Warren’s face turned deathly pale. “Turn it off! Shut it down now!” he shouted. His voice cracked with panic. But the system was completely out of control. The screen finally paused on a media player interface. An audio file began to play on its own. “It’s done, Mr. Brennan. I’ve already tampered with the brakes. I guarantee it’ll work perfectly...” A calm and lethally cold voice filled the silent room. “You’ll get your money after the job is done.”

"Look what crawled out of the drain." Three men stepped into the light. They wore oversized hoodies and tactical vests scavenged from the raid. In the center stood Ghost. He was thinner than I remembered. A jagged scar ran from his ear to his jaw—a gift from the last turf war I’d led before I disappeared. "Ghost," I said. I didn't lower the pipe. "Don't 'Ghost' me, you golden-eyed prick." He spat a glob of phlegm onto the concrete. He raised a heavy-duty revolver. "Except your eyes aren't gold anymore, are they? You look... ordinary. Like the rest of us rats."

He almost whispered. The werewolf suddenly realized his grave error. “Please forgive me—” “You failure!” Ghost snarled and flicked his hand. A curved, shiny and metal instrument of death flew out of his hand and straight into the werewolf’s neck with a wet chunk. Watery choke sounds filled the room, acting as a gruesome background music to Ghost’s toe-curling voice as he yelled to the guards standing in the shadows. “Spread the word far and wide, Rhea Damon is now at the top of my wanted list. Anyone who brings her back to me, dead or alive will receive my honored reward!”

[The Ghost Army] The heavy oak door of the wine cellar didn't just open; it exploded inward, reduced to a spray of splinters by a synchronized kinetic charge. Through the dust, four Ghost units moved with a terrifying, insectoid grace. Their tactical visors weren't glowing with the standard blue of the Regency; they were pulsing with a deep, oily black—the mark of the Heir. "Dante!" I screamed, diving behind a row of ancient, dust-covered casks.

The wolf people clan didn't want to anger their goddess of the night, their precious Luna whom I am named after. The fog appears thicker and brighter this time. The officer shakes in the air and twitches like a victim being tortured within. His eyes turn yellow, and his veins bulge. As he floats in the air, his skin becomes pale green. The water drips slowly down his shoulders and onto the floor. The Ghost is out for revenge on this officer. His name says Officer Wilds.

the young woman asked. "Ghosts, Love." "Are you telling me that ghosts exist?" whispered Bianca. "I'm a fucking werewolf, Love. Why shouldn't those motherfuckers exist?" snarled Black. _ Those motherfuckers need to die... shit, they're already dead! How do you kill a fucking ghost?" whined Maska, putting his paws over his eyes.

“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.