Stalker 2 Ghost Enemy Novels & Stories

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.

“Not in the brief.” It studied them with that furnace gaze, like it could smell the angles of their fear and their unwillingness to run. The Ghosts didn’t flinch. Weapons held. Foot positions anchored. Breathing measured. Machine precision, human resolve—a posture predators distrust. The thing growled—a vibration more than a sound—and the hair on Jack’s arms lifted. Then it dissolved into shadow, gone between the beats of a heart. Only its breath lingered, a cold curse in the air. “Team Two—rendezvous now,” Michelle snapped into comms, voice ironed flat.

Then the lights snapped on. Floodlights blinded us for half a heartbeat, long enough for the first burst of enemy fire to chew the wall behind my head. I dropped, rolled, came up firing, three-round bursts that painted the far wall red. Reaper roared somewhere to my left, his massive frame absorbing hits that would’ve folded lesser men, returning fire with a growl that rattled my teeth. “Clear left!” Ghost shouted, voice sharp over the comms, already moving, lean body twisting between crates, rifle never still.

He sniffed the air and noticed that it was not the distinctive scent of the members of Shadow Pack. Zack snarled, halting in his conquest to go through the small trail through the darkened woods, and went off to find the intruder of their community. He followed the noise that bounced off through the night until he came upon the abandoned street near the darkened woods that was close to the small town. When he arrived there, trotting slowly in the shadows, Zack saw a foreigner being carried off by two males through the small trail along those woods. He narrowed his blue eyes on them as Zane purred in their mind link.

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.

This time, they were not just the heavy stone‑skin shapes we knew new forms joined them: slimmer, taller, grey‑shade skin like smoke‑mixed rock, moving faster, gliding close to walls, silent as drifting dust. “Smoke‑Stalkers,” Kael named them grimly. “More clever, harder to hit and they love narrow spaces.” Alexus instantly formed us into tight wedge formation: he led one side, Kael the other, protecting Maya and Marco and me in centre. “Fire works but steady, coordinated light works better,” he reminded. As first Stalker slid out like fluid darkness, we advanced together torches extended outward, glowing triangle between us burning stronger. Every time they tried to slip between or flank, o

Together, we pushed the attackers back, clearing room after room until the mansion fell silent once more. When it was finally over, we captured three of The Ghost’s men alive. One of them — a tall, scarred man with dead eyes — was dragged into the basement interrogation room. Nikolai stood over him, gun pressed to his forehead. “Talk,” he growled. “Who sent you? What does The Ghost want?” The man laughed through bloodied lips, looking straight at me. “You still don’t know, do you?” he sneered. “The Ghost isn’t some shadow. He’s blood. Your blood, Volkov.”

Everyone moves away, while Soren jumps on Klaus and pushes him against the wall, without even needing to transform. This move is to push Klaus away from the stairs, while I see Ghost's rune that was on the stairs start to be consumed by the Shadows and the Light. Ghost's fur is white and translucent at the ends, while his eyes are very red, and he stands up quickly, at the same time as he grabs Soren's wrist, the smell of blood spreading. Soren uses his other hand to punch Ghost, who dodges and Soren hits the wall, Ghost takes advantage and uses his other claw to hit Soren in the stomach, but a black barrier forms and I see sparks coming out.

Years of working together made them lethal – Ghost's enchanted weapons complementing Tank's raw strength as they engaged the first wave. "You're getting sloppy," Tank taunted as he took down two attackers. "Academy security spotted you ten minutes ago." "We don't need stealth," the rogue leader snarled. "Just numbers." He swung at Tank. These rogues were to cocky. More dark figures emerged from the shadows, all carrying spelled weapons. Ghost recognized the magical signatures – the same trafficking ring that had tried before, but better equipped this time. "Still after the wolf-druid heir?" Ghost's voice was deadly calm as he fired, his bullets charged with Maya's protective magic. "You'd th

Sector 6 in the real world was dark, but its digital counterpart, the Labyrinth of Illusions, was a blinding, chaotic nightmare of neon and mirrors. Marcus (DragonSlayer99) swung his massive silver broadsword, shattering a digital mirror that immediately reformed into three hostile, jagged wireframe constructs. "Keep moving!" Marcus roared to the Ghost Army, raising his shield to block a barrage of pixelated laser fire. "The General is out of time!" The Ghost Army was fighting a desperate, uphill battle. The Admin didn't use brute-force bosses here. The enemies were "Illusionists"—programs that duplicated themselves, altered the gravity of the zone, and created fake corridors that dropped pl