Novel & Cerita Slashfic Ghost

Warm blood slides down my cheek as the ache swells and throbs. The shadows gather, their forms flickering in and out of focus. Four silhouettes emerge, closing in with unnatural slowness, their movements dragging through the air like figures wading through water. They hover at the edge of my vision, shifting and distorting, a pack of vengeful ghosts drawn together by hunger. “There’s nowhere to run, Tabitha Huxley…” Their mouths stretch into impossible smiles as they advance, teeth gleaming too white in the dark. NO!

But few knew he harbored a secret capable of upending the entire arcane world. A burning candle stood before him. Yet the scent it released was strange—eerily similar to the Ghost Candles found in Willowstead. Spirits were drawn to the scent of Ghost Candles. When unable to feed on living souls, they relied on this incense to remain aware. Without it, they would drift into believing they were dead. It was no longer clear whether Sylas was a man or a ghost. He sniffed the candle's fragrance hungrily, as if his very life depended on it.

The one burdened by centuries of regret. But then he turned sharply, nostrils flaring. “We’re not alone.” My pulse jumped. “What?” He motioned for silence. The air shifted. A faint shimmer appeared in the distance, like light bending wrong. Then I saw it like a shape, pale and trembling, emerging from the fog. A wolf. No… not alive. Its eyes glowed white, its body translucent, trailing mist. A spirit of Meadow Pack “What is that?” I breathed. Varic drew his sword in one swift motion. “A ghost wolf. Bound to this place.”

"Tell me how to stop the bleed. Tell me how we kill a ghost that lives in every puddle and window in this district." "We can't kill them, Sofia. Not in the traditional sense. A phantom in a mirror is just a projection of a consciousness anchored on the other side. You have to break the anchor," Zilo explained, pausing to wipe a smear of violet condensation from his goggles. "You have to destroy the surfaces. Every window, every polished plate, every basin of water. If they don't have a medium to manifest through, they stay trapped in the glass. But Sofia... look at the sky. If the clouds turn to mirrors, there won't be enough hammers in the world to save us."

I reached out and pressed the radio button on the steering wheel. My voice was cold, cutting through the static. "Mason Vale, do you see a ghost in your mirror?" I said coldly into the radio. Those words pierced straight through Mason's last line of composure. His car hesitated for an obvious instant on the straight. Now. I smashed the throttle down. The car tore through the air and pulled alongside him. Ahead was a chain of fast S-curves. Seeing that I was about to pass, a vicious look flashed through Mason's eyes.

Tora and Jax shifted closer, protective but watchful, while Isolde and Thorne loomed in their usual shadows. It was Isolde who broke the silence. “If this is what I think it is, then brute strength won’t matter. Vampires can’t bite smoke. Dragons can’t burn shadows.” Her voice dropped lower, curiosity and unease threading together. “You’ve heard of the old ghost stories, haven’t you? The shadowcraft.” Charlie’s head snapped up, his usual easy grin absent. “They’re not ghost stories. They’re warnings.”

If her uncle trusted the human enough to legally take under his wing then she trusted him enough to not question his judgement. Auxilia wasn’t just a guest house, it was Neutral Ground, meaning that all ghouls who wanted to pass on and eat dead human flesh only when necessary, come here for their stock ups, some come here for shelter, others rented and lived here. The point was, the whole place was a ghoul sanctuary. That was why it was called Auxilia Guesthouse and café; Auxilia was greek for ‘help’ or ‘safety granted’.

asked the forest ghost. Leon slashed his sword once again at the ghost, but his sword pierced the body just like that. Leon forgot; this is the kind that cannot be cut by a weapon because its body is translucent. The sound of giggling began to be heard again echoing throughout the forest, making Leon's head dizzy. Leon couldn't remember what weakness he created for this creature. And if he could remember it, couldn't Boston Hopkins mess it up with a lethal modification? Leon closed his ears in thought, while the ghost got closer and closer. “I want your body, Leon. Let me possess you," she said again.

Alex grumbled and I hummed, "I'll appear before my father when the time is right." "What about Ginevra, how would she know?" He asked. "You don't worry your head about that one. She'll definitely find me." She was, after all, the smartest woman I had ever known. The Ghost will be dead by the break of dawn. The Ghost—Ricardo Sanchez will undergo a rebirth by the break of dawn. But even in my confidence, my heart still shuddered with questions. Would I truly be dead by the break of dawn, or would the universe be kind enough to grant me an opportunity at yet another life?

The man scoffed disdainfully, "It doesn't matter since you're about to die. I'm Ghost Shadow, and she's Madam Bones!" Sebastian nodded slightly. "Alright, if you insist on dying, I'll grant your wish." "Fool!" Ghost Shadow shouted as he drew a sword from his waist. The sword's tip shimmered with a dark glow, transforming into a black streak aimed at Sebastian's chest. Sebastian's expression changed immediately. Ghost Shadow was indeed a disciple of the Corpse Sect, and the sword was soaked in corpse fog. A strike from this sword wouldn't just kill; it would also cause the victim to suffer unbearably from the corpses' energy, eventually leading to a horrific death.