Stalker 2 Ghost Enemy Novels & Stories

Unless. My mind raced with the implications. Only one type of enemy could hide their scent so effectively: trained assassins. The kind who knew how to erase their trail, who knew how to hunt werewolves. A chill ran down my spine. I'd faced many foes, but never ones this skilled. "Damn it," I growled, my eyes scanning my surroundings with renewed urgency. Who were these ghosts? And what did they want from me?

Dad's voice cut across the room the second I stepped inside, as if he were an announcer at a red carpet gala, welcoming celebrities. He was by the fireplace, with a drink in hand, and slightly leaning on his stick. He had changed the normal black walker to the golden one, which he only used for special occasions. This must be one for him. And there they were, Jonas Schmidt. He looked older and fatter, but with the same pig eyes I remembered from the trial days. His mistress stood next to him, thin and brittle, clutching a glass like a shield. And him. Stein Schmidt. He was unlike his father, tall and broad-shouldered. Just like me, he was putting on a black suit with no tie, as if he also th

Then I saw a figure watching the carnage with what looked like satisfaction. It wasn’t an anomaly. It was a Human. Someone had led the creatures here on purpose. I moved toward the figure, shadows already forming into weapons. But before I could reach them, something hit me from behind. I went down, my chest wounds screaming in protest. A Stalker. Bigger than the others. It pinned me, its claws digging into my shoulders. I reached for my shadows. Nothing happened. The venom hadn’t cleared completely. In my weakened state, under pressure, my ability was failing.

It resembled heat haze over a frozen pond. Roric raised his lance, but Kael gestured for him to wait. "Don't waste the charge." Out of the gray mist emerged a wolf. But it wasn't an ordinary wolf; it was a Ghost-Packer. It stood nearly seven feet tall, made of a translucent, oily smoke that shifted and swirled. Instead of eyes, it had two hollow cavities filled with flickering violet static-the remnants of a soul deleted by Liora's "Link," yet refusing to leave the physical plane.

The other men in the van rushed to catch their fallen comrade, when a familiar face popped into existence. Ghost melted from thin-air, his eyes black as night. In his hand was the blood-soaked blade that had gone through the throat of the male that had planned on raping me. He smiled at the others, this deadly, flat thing that had the hairs along the back of my neck rising. I’d never say this aloud, but Ghost was even more frightening than my would-be rapist.

Then, from the darkness, a figure emerged. The Ghost. He was older, but his presence was as formidable as ever. His piercing blue eyes locked onto Dino, assessing, calculating. “You’ve grown,” the ghost said. His voice was rough, but there was something else there—a trace of regret. Dino didn’t waste time on pleasantries. “Why now?” The ghost exhaled. “Because you’re not just fighting a war, Dino. You’re fighting a trap.” Dino’s eyes narrowed. “Explain.”

As time went by, my walk became faster, and so did the person behind me. When I was near the second to the last alley, I was ready to do the first move and attack whoever was behind me, but my eyes widened when I saw what it was. Long and sharp claws, and eyes that have the color of a sunflower shine under the light of the moon. Werewolf. And a gamma who looks like he's not in his right mind! F*cking sh*t. Just how lucky I could be tonight to see a werewolf that's not in their right mind?

In an abandoned warehouse, my mother was tied up in the middle of the open floor, her body covered in bloody slash marks. She looked up at the woman before her, her face twisted in pain. "Adeline... I'm your mother-in-law. How could you do this to me?" Adeline Malone paused mid-motion while touching up her makeup. A cold smirk curved her red lips, her beautiful face dripping with contempt. "Then tell your selfish son to crawl out of hiding. Do that, and I'll let the rest of you go."

The path to the Sacred Chamber, where the gemstone lay hidden, had been poisoned. I steadied my breath and pressed on, the handle of my blade tight in my grip. A thick mist began to roll in. From the mist, a low growl erupted. I spun to face it. A creature crawled from the shadows—skeletal, tall as two men, its body made of bone and black mist. Grave Stalker. It screeched and pounced. I barely dodged in time, rolling across cold stones. I swung my spirit-steel blade, catching its side. It retaliated with sharp claws that sliced my shoulder. I screamed and stumbled.

In his right hand, he held a sleek, golden data-pad that was currently chiming wildly, a bright red warning flashing across the screen: ANOMALY LOCATED. So, the ghost finally shows his face," Vance chuckled, his voice echoing over the heavy thrum of the idling transport engines. Dominic stepped out of the smoke, walking directly into the center of the gravel street. He stood tall, the cold wind whipping his dark hair across his forehead. He didn't look like a patient recovering from a fatal wound anymore; he looked like a god of war dropped into the slums. He raised the captured kinetic rifle, aiming it directly at Vance's head.