Spirit Fanfic Novelas e Histórias

One spirit pinned my shoulder, its weight crushing, while another slashed my chest, fabric ripping as skin split open. Blood soaked my shirt, warm and sticky, and the curse amplified every wound, turning pain into fire that consumed my thoughts. Visions looped in my mind—Isabella's kiss with Caleb, her swollen belly, my lonely death. Doubt rooted deeper, sapping my strength, making my strikes slower and weaker. "Get out of my head," I gasped, rolling to avoid a descending claw and kicking upward to disperse a spirit into fog. But they reformed instantly, pressing in tighter, their whispers turning to shouts. "She belongs to another. You’ll die forgotten."

When I was six years old, I came down with a terrible fever. Doris carried me through a blizzard and begged a clinic doctor to treat me. She spent her entire life pinching pennies, setting aside every dollar for my future wedding. "Mark, ghosts are easier to deal with than people. A ghost just wants your life, but people will strip you to the bone." She used to say it while sipping her tea. ‘Doris, you were wrong. ‘In this world, people are far more poisonous than ghosts.’

He could feel the thinning of the barrier and he walked impatiently towards it, waiting for a chance to enter the human world. A thick fog covered the forest as the barrier gave way to the spirits awaiting entry. Flint made his way home. The spirit had come to see her every Samhain since his death. He found peace in knowing she was okay, and he loved watching her. To him she was beyond lovely. Her long flame-colored hair felt like silk and her face was a delicate oval with the slightest dusting of freckles. Her body was soft and curvy. He missed having her in his arms and watching her gave him such pleasure.

“I’ll come back. Promise.” Matt didn’t let it hang for long. “Alright, enough with the emotional crap. Go die or whatever.” I smiled, despite the tension. “I’ll keep it dramatic, don’t worry.” Rain gave a final shout. “If you explode into a mystical energy cloud, I’ll be sure to throw a party in your honor!” “Nice,” I said, chuckling. “You know how to send a guy off.” And then I took another step forward, my feet suddenly feeling like leading. The Spiritborn presence was overwhelming—ancient, calm, and not at all concerned with my nerves or jokes. Every step felt like I was crossing into another world, one where my usual banter would mean nothing.

Spirit thought, her irritation flaring. Even Charles, the brooding, over-serious tyrant, was sitting there, participating in the prank. Spirit stood at the entrance, her eyes darting from face to face. She desperately wanted to find Charles’s face. She was still furious with him, and she had every intention of making his life miserable today. But at this exact moment, she couldn’t guess who was who. All three of them had the same brooding look plastered on their faces. Not a single one of them was moving. They were completely mimicking Charles’s hostile aura, and it was maddening.

“They tampered with forces beyond their understanding. Why should we intervene?” Evelyn raised her chin, her voice unwavering. “Because they are innocent. They are children, drawn into darkness by this cursed book. Punish me if you must, but help them.” The spirits exchanged glances, their forms shifting in the ethereal light. Finally, the seventh spirit, shrouded in a dark mist, stepped forward. Its voice was deep and resonant. “We will assist them, but know this: the path they walk is not ours to alter. They must prove their worth to survive.”

I ask softly. “I get it. I- I think I understand your dad. I don’t want to live that long either. Can you imagine? Hundreds of years with this…pain?” “It won’t always hurt,” I reassure her. “I swear it to you.” She sighs and without any warning, she breaks our connection. Something she has never been able to do before. Her talents will develop quickly now that her spirit has manifested. She’ll inherit every wolf talent, and then some. She’s an Alpha spirit. One of the strongest I’ve ever met. Ever since I’ve seen the strength of her spirit, I’ve been convinced that her destiny is here, with me and Breaking Dawn.

This turns her on? And she practically begs me. 'Keya pleeease let me try something, okay?' I don't want her to go near him. But I'm literally lost as to what to do at the moment. I let out an unsure shaky sigh. Urging her. 'Ok just please be careful!' I feel myself quickly being placed in the Spirit Realm as she takes control. And I observe what she attempts. Jaspier P.O.V

“You’re what’s left of the man I loved after the spirits reshaped him into their symbol.” He moved closer. His left hand reached for mine. “Look at me. I chose to come back. For you. For our child.” I wanted to believe him. But my body—my soul—didn’t react the way it used to. No warmth. No sense of home. Just a scream building in my chest that said: That’s not him. That’s not Ethan. The spirits began to sing. A song without melody. They circled the altar. Chanting without language.

As the figure materialized, the surrounding lights converged around it, encasing it like stars surrounding the moon. The phosphorescent humanoid figure exuded a fiery temperament as it loomed over Adrian from a higher vantage point. This entity was a level-eight pinnacle belonging to the Fire Spirit category. Fire Spirits, formed through the fusion of phosphorescent lights and spirits, were typically weak. However, this particular Fire Spirit had achieved an unprecedented level of power, capable of assuming a human form. “It’s rare to come across such an arrogant fellow. Are you hoarding all the spoils for yourself? No intention of sharing with us?" another voice suddenly said.