Mythic Ghost Novels & Stories

LOCATION: DUAL-REALITY (THE SANCTUM OF THE SERAPHIM). STATUS: THE SYSTEM CRASH. In the Ghost Server, the towering entity of white light suddenly froze. "The physical core is gone!" Jax screamed, watching the digital architecture of the Throne Room begin to violently glitch and tear apart. "Finish it!" Marcus roared. Brog, the Awakened Blacksmith, leaped into the air, bringing his massive hammer down directly onto the frozen crown of the Creator. The digital boss didn't explode into loot. It simply unraveled. The massive entity of light dissolved into a cascading waterfall of green binary code, washing over the Ghost Army before fading into nothingness.

I turned the heels of my foot to walk out from there but- He said that he need to treat his wounds by me without any police's interference, it might be a severe injury if police is coming into picture at any case. I sighed frustratedly and went into the dark building, hoping I would find him somewhere. I passed through doorless opening of the building, it felt like I crossed an invisible shield and entered in a cold aura. With the help of my flashlight I witnessed some smoothie thick spider webs, lizards, bats, grey wool furred grubby rat and what not expected in a typical rumoured haunted place.

One is a wolf or a flesh eating crazy beast in a human and wolf skin, the other is a vampire that his cold bloodlust can over run the bloodiest army, the last one is a perverse abomination. The staring contest between the three to discern any glimpse of identification from eash other after digesting a few information that was put in their mind like a sword that was stabbed in your heard forgetting unconsciously the behemoth that was there like the verry existence of day and night. This unbelievable scene is of course the work of IT, a childish way to gives them fright and terror and at the same time awe , but not like a regular naïve kid who hide behind the wall than suddenly jump forward t

"Okay... I'll tell. My mother used to be a traveler, she spent her whole youth traveling this 1/3 of Ybirth and collecting many magical artifacts, you see. The stones attached to this book are entities separated from the elements, she created this book herself and recorded the strange things in this continent of Ybirth, all... everything, including the fact that the moon and sun shield each other forming a terrifying formation... that purple light shines down on this land and the Ghosts become significantly stronger." Andy listened attentively, eating gingerbread and following the storyline Celica told him, but when he heard the "Ghost" part, he froze as if he remembered something, something

Ver quietly watched from the sides. 'If this still doesn't work. It means something else is going on,' thought Paul who disregarded the unnerving cries and wails he began hearing. In his mind, he thought it must be something system-related, or a pinnacle illusion from a level 7 ghost half-host. It was regretful but beings like ghosts only knew how to do harm and not to dispel. No outside aid would be able to help her. She must battle it on her. In the end, Misty did not rouse from her sleep. And Ver became very hostile to Agatha.

Feeling that familiar iciness in the air surrounding them, the hairs on her body stood instantly. "Let's start with the basics, what is your name?" "Nicholas." What an ordinary name. So ghosts do have one. "You said something about being half dead and second chances, what does that mean?" "Recovering my memories gives me access to my body and its location." Oh, so he doesn't know where his body is. Poor ghost. "But, why me?" "I told you. Soulmate." All strength left her. Conversations with this ghost led nowhere.

Marcus, the quiet guy from accounting leaned against the door, arms crossed, with a bitter smirk twisting his lips. “McAllen,” he said. “You’ve been looking real happy lately. I see you enjoy your late night with the boss.” My stomach dropped. “What the hell are you talking about?” He stepped closer, I could see the jealousy in his eyes. “ I saw you leaving the private elevator. Looking like a man whose ass has taken some cock. You’re not the first, you know. The Ghost destroys anyone who tries to get close. You’re just the latest toy.” “The Ghost?” I laughed it off, but my voice sounded shaky even to me. “Sounds like some movie legend bullshit.”

The sound reverberates through the Throat of Echoes like thunder, like prophecy, like the final word of a god: “The war has already been won.” Every version of me—Tyrant, Martyr, Warrior, Sage, even the flickering Ghost—falls to their knees. The compulsion is absolute, inevitable, written into the very structure of reality. We are moths before a sun that wears our own face. Only Ghost-me remains standing, and she's smiling. "Finally," she whispers, her form growing more solid even as the others fade. "I was wondering when you'd show up."

Her heart rate dropped but not by much, this whole 'Mythical Beings existing amongst humans' thing still had that bit of a screeching turn-table effect on her. But then again, her uncle did inform her that the Mythics populous, mostly the Dark Mythics, still roam the world. Werewolves, Serpentine, Minotaurs, Mermaids, Goblins, and even Ghosts. However a few existed in an other-worldly dimension - created by Merlin but ruled by the Vampire King himself, or so he illiterated. She didn't ask about that.