Romans & histoires Slashfic Ghost

"They aren't frozen soldiers. They’re data-ghosts with physical weight." One of the ghosts stepped out of the light. It moved with a terrifying, unnatural speed, its hand extending into a jagged blade of hard-light. It didn't scream. It just hissed—the sound of a thousand deleted files. Kaelor didn't hesitate. He dived under the ghost’s strike, his knife finding the creature’s throat. There was no blood. Just a spray of blue sparks and the smell of burning plastic. The ghost didn't die; it just flickered, its wound knitting back together instantly.

she mumbles softly cleaning off the tears cascading down her cheeks. "I don't remember doing anything to you. If it's about our night together then I'm sorry. It was never meant to happen. I lost control and even apologized before you suddenly disappeared." The female whirls and stares intently at him. "You told your friends to rape and murder me." "Me? You're a ghost?" He asks at once shivering. "Yes, I'm a ghost. And I'm here to kill you cause you are the only one remaining." "But I didn't do such. Please believe me."

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 ? .”

Marcus, the quiet guy from accounting leaned against the door, arms crossed, with a bitter smirk twisting his lips. “McAllen,” he said. “You’ve been looking real happy lately. I see you enjoy your late night with the boss.” My stomach dropped. “What the hell are you talking about?” He stepped closer, I could see the jealousy in his eyes. “ I saw you leaving the private elevator. Looking like a man whose ass has taken some cock. You’re not the first, you know. The Ghost destroys anyone who tries to get close. You’re just the latest toy.” “The Ghost?” I laughed it off, but my voice sounded shaky even to me. “Sounds like some movie legend bullshit.”

Christopher and Zyter exchanged a fierce glance, their determination unshakeable. Suddenly, the tranquility shattered as the Blood Ghosts emerged from the darkness. They materialized before the hunters, their red eyes glowing with malice. The sight sent shivers down Christopher's spine, but he steadied himself, gripping his sword tightly. The Ghosts were relentless, their numbers seemingly endless.

But they all felt so fucking real. Jesus! The thought of having sex with a ghost made me sick all over. My stomach knotted as a full-blown terror took root. A fever ran down my body and my skin gallop with goose pimples. "Do you see her?" his question brought me back to reality. I nodded slowly. "So those times I see you talking to yourself, it is her you are talking to?" I motioned. "Jesus!" he exclaimed. "You need deliverance with serious prayers oh!"

They were my only hope, and I didn't know how long I had before Gaius ruined everything I had worked for. As I drifted through the thicket, a faint light suddenly caught my attention. It looked like a ray of sunlight at first, but soon, it materialized enough for me to see that it was a glow from the newly departed spirit of an older-looking man. I had seen a few of those already, and all of them were completely snobby, probably because they weren't quite sure whether I was dead or alive. The energy from the ghost seemed positive, so I slowly began to approach him.

Red lights glow, and the air is thick with whiskey and want. Twelve masked bidders lounge like predators, their paddles twitching. I sit front row, legs crossed, blazer buttoned to my throat, diamond choker glinting like a collar I’d never wear. I’m here to watch, to feed the secret itch that’s haunted me for years: What if I let go? Just once? Then he steps out. Silas, Ghost to those who whisper his name, materializes like a fever dream. He is shirtless. Inked skin ripples over muscle.

That beautiful voice, distorted by pain and surprise. Mom. My eyes go wide as it all comes back; the pain, the sorrow, the hurt. The tears begin to flow as the ghost hurries to its destination. I can remember every detail now; the way those creatures had searched him... when his eyes turned a frightening red... He finally reached me, barely more than a breath of air, charging towards my chest. However, the ghost bounced back, my body suddenly surrounded by a strange glow. What is it? It's green and shiny, like the emerald on my ring, almost like one of those auras I've heard about in fantasy books.

Ruby. Zara’s throat tightened. The Hollow Queen’s specter stared at Maxim, a cruel tenderness in the tilt of her head. “Beast,” the shadow whispered. “You carry my fire still.” Maxim stiffened, claws sliding from his fingertips despite his iron will. “You’re dead,” he said, voice low and ragged. “Stay dead.” The apparition smiled. “Death is only a bargain unfulfilled.” The loyalists howled, their frenzy feeding the ghost. The spark-Ruby swelled, smoke thickening into muscle and bone. Zara felt the ground tremble beneath her boots. If the phantom crossed fully into flesh, the Hollow’s chaos would return.