Phantom Black Car Novels & Stories

Might have been said in mockery, but the person had a point to John who slowly wipes his red eyes and looks outside the window to see the things, people and scenery flying by… People with freedom, black cars with pretty glints… John suddenly garbs his head. Black cars with glints. The exact make of the one he saw that day just drove by the long bus and he strains in his seat to catch it’s number plates and the name at the back. Audi R8.

Adela was a little confused, unsure of what new scheme Marah was up to. She called Helen and, while waiting, headed to the garage to pick a car for the evening. The Maybach was off-limits—too flashy. If her coworkers saw it, the gossip would be endless. The Phantom had been taken by Layson. Her eyes landed on a low-key black car—the same one from the day of her accident. She wasn’t sure if it was a new one or repaired, but she chose it anyway. Despite the lingering fear, its safety features had left a deep impression.

But it made a harsh stop before it could. “Are you fucking kidding me?” Michael mumbled as we both stared at the car. “Holy shit!” I looked in awe. It wasn’t just any car. “Tell me my eyes are deceiving me, Michael. But is that a freaking Bugatti La Voiture Noire in front of us?” Fuck Michael’s car. This one was a sexy beast. This car was probably the closest thing to a real-life Batmobile. All black, shiny and so sexy. The car door opened and who emerged from the driver’s seat?

Max asked and she smiled “Maybe a year ago” she said looking less concerned “(chuckles) I think it’s a year plus” Max said “Why does it bother you?” she asked “Shouldn’t it?” he asked A black Rolls Royce phantom black bison entered the compound “Are you expecting anyone?” he asked “I don’t remember” she said as they looked at the car “Waw, that’s a nice car” Max said and then Mr. Damien Blood stepped out of the car as the driver opened the door

“I’m hitching a ride with Lyra. My car needed maintenance today.” “Ah.. I see. Then you can just follow..” As Diana said this, a black luxurious car slowly approached them. It was a Rolls Royce Phantom. Lyra and Remi looked at the car in awe. The car just looked so sleek. Diana opened the door in the back seat. Lyra and Remi snapped out of their trance and hurriedly went to Lyra’s car to start it, driving close to the black car. “Where do you think she’ll take us?” Remi asked curiously.

And yet… deep down, I couldn’t help but hope that maybe, just maybe, I was wrong. As I stepped outside, my jaw nearly hit the ground. Parked in front of me was a Rolls Royce Phantom—sleek, black, and shining like a jewel under the faint evening light. I’d seen cars like this in movies, the kind of car a billionaire or a celebrity would drive, not something you’d expect to pick up a random college student like me.

He turned as if the conversation had never happened, and without a single thought of resistance—I obeyed. The car was waiting at the end of the street, idling like a dark beast in the shadows. I noticed it long before he pointed it out. It was a deep, obsidian black—polished to a flawless, mirror-like shine. It was the kind of vehicle that didn't belong in a neighborhood of cracked pavement and faded dreams. It stood out like a diamond in a coal mine. Like him. I slowed my pace, my instincts screaming again, louder this time. Don’t go closer. Don't get in.

The pitch black window made it impossible to see anyone inside but looking at the car, I had a strange hunch. Could this be from— For a few moments, there was no reply, just an eerie silence that made my heart thud faster. Then, another text buzzed through. "You sure he's gone for something he forgot, or is he here to buy his other girl something?" Discomfort gripped me, sinking its claws deep into my chest. My eyes darted around the parking lot again, scanning every shadow, every car, every face. Then I saw it. A Rolls-Royce Phantom parked a few spaces away, sleek and black, the windows tinted so dark it was impossible to see inside.

It was then I noticed it was not a taxi, I'd only assumed. A matte black Range Rover Sport. Not the car that haunted me that day, that one was apparently Rihanna's car. This one had its own kind of menace. My eyes scanned it fast. Big enough for 2–4 men and a victim. Dark-tinted glass for secrecy. Fast enough to escape. Luxurious but intimidating. The passenger window rolled down. A man in an all-black suit sat there, black hair slicked back, dark shades hiding his eyes. He turned toward me. I couldn’t see his stare, but I felt its weight.

I imagined how many people and how long it would take to wipe the windows. Mr. Shaw stopped his car in a very large yard. Two other cars parked next to us. One is a black Porsche with a white stripe in the middle, and the other is a red Bugatti. If the three of them were side by side like this, maybe other people who saw it would think this place was a luxury car showroom.