Phantom Wraith Novels & Stories

A Wraith is a predator that has already lost everything, which means it has no fear of the dark. I stood in the center of the melting Vault, my heart hammering a frantic, uneven rhythm against my ribs. The scent of Elena’s "Anti-Matter" blade was a sharp, metallic sting in the air, but the smell coming from Dante—the raw, ozone-heavy scent of the Void-Titan—was overwhelming. The "Shadow-Heir" in his arms let out another cry, a sound that vibrated through the floorboards and made the obsidian walls bleed liquid shadow. Dante didn't pull away from the dagger Elena had buried in his chest. Instead, he leaned into it. He stepped forward, forcing the hilt against his own ribs, his eyes locked on

Sashi said while continuing from writing. "Wraith? Ah, you called me once like that before. What is that anyway?" Clark ask while giving all of his attention to Sashi. "A wraith, an evil ghost. Those who died with wrong doings in life. Like that." Sashi explained. "Ahhh." They stayed like that for a while because Sashi need to finish taking some notes. Clark just observing her the whole time. "Stop staring, I can't concentrate here." Sashi said without looking at Clark.

Gwen hopped off his back and was expecting me to answer his question too while the two of the warriors watched us in a distance. "Amelia, the current Alpha of the Phantom is creating an army of two species combined using the power of ancient witchcraft. I bet those missing people must have turned already into those wretched fiends. But don't worry about Ethan Haynes, he's alive and currently under our care. He's lucky we ran into him and we had managed to save him from that abomination." Cayde and Gwen looked pleased with the news I uttered to them but I knew that questions were already piling up in their mind so I beat them into it as I spoke again, "Is it a coincidence that you're both clo

“The legions, the thing that bit Zeph was one of them. I called it wraith because I wanted it to sound so ugly, but someone is controlling them, and that’s what we’ve been meaning to find out.” “A wraith as in like a ghost?” “Yes,” she replied. “But it’s more than that. They are legions of demons, demonic elements, a fear-inducing evil, but they can possess bodies. My guess is they prefer werewolves because they’re fast and in wolf form, they’re stronger.” “She’s right,” Ren said. “Wolves with void eyes and dark faces.” “Wraiths are like black smoke and move in the dark. My problem is, I’m not that strong at night.”

He looked like a Spirit wolf. The Gamma launched at him, but Damien successfully dodged. The Gamma attacked again, and Damien dodged. They were at it for a while with Damien dodging every attack. It was clear Alex didn't want to hurt him. Getting frustrated he turned to mist to attack, but Damien did something no spirit wolf had ever done before. He stood on his hind legs, grabbed the head of the mist and pinned it down. A golden light began to emit from him. The rest of the pack backed away, afraid of being touched by the light. The Gamma became whole again under Damien's paws, and Alex spoke in what seemed like a roar.

“The Syndicate’s cruel—they’d kill her. But his relic… it’s tied to the anchor. Voren’s close.” The altar pulses, a low, guttural hum, and the air splits. A shadow-realm wraith erupts from the stone, its form a writhing mass of black tendrils and hollow eyes, its scream a blade through my mind. My crescent mark blazes, and I shift, claws extending, wings unfurling, lunar light and primal fury merging into my Convergence form. The wraith lunges, its tendrils slashing, and Cassia dives in, her flames meeting it head-on.

A shadow looms over me and Gwen lets out a muffled shriek. I spun, my magic zapping along my palms. I expect to see the vampires that Zane has recruited. Instead, it's an inky blackness that undulates in front of me. Taking a step back, I stumble as the thing drifts closer to me. "What is that?" my voice cracks. "It's a wraith." I'd vaguely heard of those, but why was Gwen so terrified of it? She had faced down half a dozen vampire ghosts, but trembles and backs away from this thing.

Its eyes were two glowing green lenses, flickering with a desperate, dying light. "The... surface... is... ours," the Wraith rasped, its voice a mechanical grind. "The debt... must... be... paid." The Last Stand of the Root The Wraith raised a Thermal Siphon—a device designed to suck the heat out of the Aeron Stone and into the drill’s massive capacitors. "Kael, get out of there!" Jace-Prime roared. "The pressure is critical!" But Kael didn't run. He stepped between the Wraith and the Stone. He didn't have a sword, but he had the Resonance Tuner—and he had the support of a man who had been dead for five hundred years.

They were feared; people dared not even utter their group's title, let alone their names. Crimson mask wearer - Wraith. Silent. Muscular. Athletic. He embodies Wrath, blood, vengeance, and swift judgment. His dual blades do all the talking he needs. Once a soldier who defied orders to protect civilians during a silent purge in the northern isles. Branded a traitor and left for dead, Wraith was found by Diana’s agents on the battlefield, surrounded by the bodies of those he killed in defence of the innocent. His oath was shattered that day, and so he forged a new one: to serve not law, but judgment.

I winced and pulled away. "What?" I looked back at his frustrated face and pulled the blankets up to cover my nakedness. If he was going to throw his life away for me and Nick, he had a right to know. It was time I took a leap of faith. "Do you know what this is?" His eyes flashed to the band on my finger then back to my face. "It's a warding ring." "Do you know what they're used for?" "Keeping spirits away. Shades too, it's thought. Those one's in particular," he said, nodding towards my battered silver band, "are hard to come by."