Nameless Ghouls Ghost Novels & Stories

In the moonlight, a woman in a white lace dress was kneeling on the stone steps of the chapel, her face buried in her hands, her shoulders trembling. She had no feet. Below her dress, there was only a swirling black mist. "I see her." Lorenzo let out a low whistle. "Two years ago, Marco put her in the ground right there. Her ashes are buried under the rose bushes behind the chapel." I didn't stop, walking straight toward the chapel. Giovanni froze behind me but didn't dare to call out. As I reached the bottom of the steps, the female ghost's head snapped up. She lunged at me, her face a sickly pale green, her eye sockets empty black pits.

I saw Eric as three of the beings tackled him to the ground and I concentrated on them first. “Brenna,” I said as I locked eyes with one of them and I felt the cold dread in my soul. His eyes were lifeless and black, his skin was pale like a corpse that had been dead for some time. His nails were long and he had fangs instead of teeth. ‘Watch out for their bite, that’s how they fight,’ I said in everyone’s heads. ‘What are they?’ Slade asked. ‘Ghouls,’ I said. We were on the attack and I saw the ghouls go down easily but to my utter shock they stood up again after a few minutes of being killed. The only ones that remained dead were the ones I had burned.

Dangerous. She was still thinking about it when the message arrived at 9:47 PM. Ghost: Private session. One hour. I want to see you in something new. Aria’s stomach flipped. She sat on the edge of her bed, heart already beating faster. Aria: What do you want me to wear? Ghost: Crimson lace teddy. Sheer. The one with the deep V in front and open back. No bra. No panties underneath. Hair down. Lights low. Be ready in fifteen minutes.

There was fresh blood on the floor, but the animal didn't react. I took a shaky step forward, my heart hammering against my ribs. The wolf didn't turn. I walked closer, standing five feet away and holding my bleeding hand out. Nothing. I walked until I was standing right next to the bars, inches from the cold metal. The wolf threw itself at the cage again, trying to get to Declan. Its claws sparked against the iron. It ignored me completely. I was invisible. "You really are a Ghost," Declan said softly. He walked up beside me. He raised the knife again and sliced his own palm.

Ivan hesitated, clearly terrified to speak the name. “She’s made contact with him. The Ghost.” The temperature in the room dropped instantly. I looked between them, confused. “Who is the Ghost?” Nikolai’s face had gone deathly white. He slowly sat down, rubbing his face with both hands. “The Ghost,” he said quietly, “is a legend. A shadow. No one knows his real name. He doesn’t run a family — he destroys them. He’s the one who orchestrates silent coups. The one who makes entire bloodlines disappear overnight. Even my father was afraid of him.”

After a while, Leslie stretched and yawned, feeling the weight of sleep. ​"Hey, I'm tired. Let’s go back, it’s really late," Leslie suggested. ​"You go ahead," Scarlett replied firmly. "I’ll head back later. I just want to stay a bit longer." ​Leslie looked at her with a mix of worry and resignation, but finally nodded and began walking back to camp. Scarlett was left alone by the lake, unaware that she was being watched from the other side of the water. ​Across the lake, Zafira and her sister Zahia—two gorgons, women with serpent tails instead of legs—hid in the shadows. Zafira, her serpentine body coiling around itself, watched Scarlett with a mix of surprise and overflowing rage.

The only memory I had of her was when she encountered an issue with her research data but couldn't locate where the error was. I'd gone to the research lab to pick up some things when I stumbled across the red-eyed Cecily. I asked if she needed help, so she explained the issue. After combing through every step of her research, I finally pointed out the problem. Over the course of five years, much had changed with the young woman who had been crying her eyes out over an issue with her research. I couldn't recognize her right away. Cecily smoothly started leading the way for me, her tone mischievous as she remarked, "Looks like you still remember me, Nathan. I thought you'd forgotten all about

Subtle, but I notice everything. Klaus de Luca. He didn’t see me as he entered a room alone. I didn’t hesitate. Silently, smoothly, I followed. The door was just starting to close when— CRASH! A vase flew at my head. I ducked instinctively, the ceramic shattering against the wall behind me. I straightened slowly, blade already drawn. Then I heard his voice. Low. Calculated. “So... you’re the Ghost Knife. The woman with no past. No future. Who sent you ? .”

Ask her if she's okay at least. Just as the thought ran through her mind, she caught a glimpse of the black mole at the corner of his eye. “ What's your name?” Tamara asked, finally breaking the eerie silence, “ Ghost,” he replied, cold and sharp, “ Eh? Ghost? Like a ghost that's supposed to be an invisible spirit?” She asked with a chuckle but he didn't even crack. His expression remained the same, still and cold, and it made Tamara feel uneasy. ‘ No way, he can't possibly be a ghost, right? I mean do ghost drive cars?’ She eyed him as she subconsciously curled into herself, away from him, but what happened next surprised her.

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.