Psychics Supernatural Novels & Stories

He read the paragraph he’d seen before about their supposed supernatural powers and wondered what these rumors referred to—ghosts or flesh-and-blood people brought back to life like something out of Frankenstein? But the book was too vague, and since the whole thing went up in smoke almost one-hundred-fifty years ago, it was hardly something he could check. Anyway, as far as he knew, every Victorian medium, psychic, producer of ectoplasm, or seer of fairies, had been proved a fake.

"He's supposed to be dead, Marie. But Harver never told us that he was a psychic " "A psychic. That's how he was able to do a lot of things. Like tracking". "If we want to stand a chance against Harver, we'd have to find a way to sever his connection to the Universal Mind". "That's why we have to find Joe Wolford". "Who's he? " "A psychic. The first psychic Demon in over a century. If Harver absorbs Joe's powers, it's all over". "What do we do? " "There's no way he'd let me get to Joe".

"Same as you. Didn't know if everyone saw things differently or not." "No, thankfully." "Would it be bad if someone did see something that wasn't there or unusual?" I open the door to the building, wanting to get this class and this day over with. She pauses, frowning. "Yeah, I suppose it's possible but it's not a good sign." A sick sensation punches me in the stomach. "What do you mean?" "That the person could be susceptible to spirits. Like a hijinks- spiritual possession." Is that what nearly happened to me? Or the dream last night? We enter the building, making our way down the hallway to a room stuffed with desks and students pulling out their textbooks.

One could not have helped feeling as if it were maybe real, maybe this was it; supernatural existence had come, something that had often been called forth. I was just getting to the good part of the article when a knock sounded at my door: Aunt Melissa. I let out a sigh and placed my phone back on the table, trying to collect myself—of course, my mind was still reeling from the headline, and this creepy sense that something strange lurked just out of sight. As I went on with the article, a pulse started to race in my chest. The description of the powers was like nothing I had ever been told about. It could manipulate darkness and shadows, creating illusive shadows that almost exactly looked

She took a long sip from the bottle. “Yes, they do. Your sister found out about me because she saw what I do at her workplace, and Vic, well, you'll understand. Now, time to rip the bandage off. The reason I couldn't tell you anything about what I do is because it relates to what you'd call the supernatural world. Both of my works are considered classified for that reason.” "For real? What do mean by the supernatural world? How?" "Yes, for real. Witches, werewolves, vampires, they're all real. As for the how, well, the answer to that one is well above my paygrade, you need to ask the gods and goddesses about it."

She declared with a smile positively. “The thing is supernaturals are real”. He paused a bit to see her reaction, probably to see her go crazy or hysterical or probably laugh to his face and call him crazy but surprisingly, none of that came. “The powerful races supernatural world consists of Werewolves, vampires, witches and demons. But the weaker races consists of Sirens, banshees, faes, fairys, mermaids and even elves.” She nods.

Cassius Nightbane growled, his lips curling around his smoking cigarette as his single gloved hand tapped the obsidian armrest. "You will bleed for this disrespect!" Garrick snarled, his claws scraping against the shattered stone of the keep entrance. I gripped the back of Cassius's wheelchair, my slim, four-foot-five frame shaking as my Psi wolf stirred violently inside my chest. "We are leaving this wretched territory, Cassius, before I lose control of my magic." Freya lunged forward to snap at my heels, but Prince Draven held her back by her waist, his dark eyes locked intensely on my small face.

My eyes closed as I just enjoyed the peace of the moment. "So, Morgana said something about psychometry. What's that?" He asked in a calm tone, his fingers traced patterns on my back. I stiffened slightly, but let out a breath. "Psychometry is like… I touch something and I see an event connected to it. Like a memory or a painful event. The energy lingered on the object provides me with those visions." "Apparently you didn't know you could do that." He concluded and I nodded. "Psychometry is one of five powers that only supreme witches can have. Then there's telepathy, teleportation, psychometry, and clairvoyance. These powers usually belong to supreme witches."

“I can read how you write it on your face: why is my husband suddenly treating me so well? Did I read that accurately, Vester?" Vivian flinched after hearing Samantha's question. Is Samantha a psychic or something? Before today, Vivian didn't even believe that psychics existed, but she started to recognize their existence after meeting the blue-haired girl. It was probably clear in Samantha's eyes that Vivian was terrified after hearing what she said, and that was why she gave an annoyed groan before saying, “I'm not a psychic or whatever you think, Vester! That's just my hunch, okay! But I really don't have that kind of ability even if my hunch is occasionally accurate!”

She worked alongside human historians, blending her supernatural insights with their scholarly expertise, to piece together the mysteries of the past. During one of her expeditions to a remote island, Seraphina stumbled upon an ancient prophecy engraved on a weathered stone tablet. The prophecy spoke of a hidden realm, accessible only to those with a bloodline as intertwined as hers. It foretold of a powerful artifact that, when combined with the unity of supernaturals and humans, would unleash unimaginable magic upon the world.