Nameless Ghouls Ghost Novels & Stories

Then the rider lifted both hands. Not in surrender. With caution. Like someone approaching a wounded animal. Their voice came out distorted through a modulator. “Ghost,” they said softly. Everything inside me stilled. Only three people ever called me that. One was dead—Saint. One should’ve been dead—Shade. And the third… The third was an ally long buried in the dark. A ghost from my old life. The rider reached up and slowly—very slowly—removed their helmet. My breath caught.

I say to both men, and Remnick shrugged. “It seems she isn’t even at all scared, good, because the ghouls prey on fear,” he called, and now I feel a cold chill down my spine as I look up towards Draven. Ghouls were real? Of course they were! “Ugh, I thought you meant that only literally,” I say with a sigh, just as I hear Remnick snicker towards me as we reach for the door. “Oh, she will make this a fun journey, Drav…” He called with a smile I didn’t trust. I knew I had to be ready for anything as we crossed towards the backyard of his estate to a black gate.

Ghost has already put a price on his head, and he knows that the underworld won’t sleep until he is caught. His boss also said that Ghost has already marked his location, so will he even be able to leave this place alive? What was he supposed to do? Die together with Damian? “Marcus, what are you thinking about? Can you say something?” “Mark, have you ever heard of someone called Ghost?” “Ghost?” Mark frowned after hearing the name. He searched through his mind before he nodded, “Yes, isn’t he the legendary underworld boss who turned the whole underworld upside down? I also heard that no one has really seen him, and he always wears a scary mask whenever he is going to meet people.”

A gaping wound tore across his neck, a gruesome wound where a chunk of flesh and artery had been bitten right off. She'd heard of ghouls before, she'd seen some too. Grave stealers, flesh eaters, undead entities, Zombies. So many names, and yet, none of them had struck fear into her until now. Oh Jesus! Her legs had gone weak.

I looked through the window of his eyes, wondering what was wrong. “Ghouls!” Came the sturdy voice of Kir. “They are here and in large numbers. I can smell them!” He explained, and every atom of peace left me. Ghouls were bad news, and Ithra lay asleep on Kir’s back, totally undisturbed. They were dead spirits that escaped the underworld, roaming through the dark forest and sniffling souls from every living thing they sensed. Thankfully, as a werewolf, we learned to mask our scent using the earth, and Kir was ready to do that. Except that Ithra was still asleep and in harm's way.

"Elle, you need to see this.” Ghost calls out. I push the knife a little harder into the Collector’s shoulder before jumping to my feet. I give him one last look before turning my back on him. His fingers have stopped twitching; even if I take the knife out, the damage is most likely permanent, and he’s no threat to me anymore. I see Ghost has walked behind the counter; he has a computer in front of him and the glow of the screen is lighting him up, making him look like some kind of otherworldly ghost. I kind of get the name but it seems more like a punishment to me, like his parents judged him on how he looked when he was born and decided to brand him with the name forever.

"What are these things? They're like something out of a nightmare." Caleb's eyes glinted with determination as he stepped forward. "They're nothing we can't handle. Stay together and fight as one. We'll make it through this." And they did. The group worked together, their movements fluid and efficient as they battled the undead horde. Eventually, the last zombie had fallen, and they were able to continue on their journey. Their final obstacle came in the form of ghosts. As they approached their destination, they were suddenly surrounded by a group of ethereal beings, their faces twisted in anger and pain. The ghosts seemed to materialize out of thin air, their moans echoing through the night