Tennessee Wraith Chasers Novels & Stories

AUTHOR’S POV Deep beneath the bustling streets of the neutral zone, far away from the Lycan King's fortress, a very different kind of meeting was taking place. The basement of the old slaughterhouse smelled heavily of rusted iron and dried blood. Sitting around a rotting wooden table were three grieving fathers. They were the parents of Clara and the other three maids whose necks Alpha Jacob had brutally snapped in the kitchens. Their faces were twisted with unspeakable pain and boiling, absolute hatred. Standing in the shadows just beyond the dim overhead light was a tall, incredibly slender man wearing a dark trench coat. He was a professional. A rogue assassin known only as The Wraith.

"They are born from the anguish of tortured souls, driven by an insatiable thirst for retribution against those who had wronged it. Since souls, for a better lack for words, can't hold memories…wraiths wait around dark alleys and areas shrouded by darkness, to feed upon the souls of those they deem as threats. In this case, the wraiths have decided to target you for some reason." It was hauntingly clear that I had unwillingly become entangled in something far beyond my comprehension. The gravity of Krimson's revelation began to sink in, the implications spiraling into a maelstrom of anxiety. The wraith's relentless pursuit for vengeance was a chilling realization—I was its target, marked by

Kaelen rasped, his mechanical exoskeleton groaning as the red fog began to corrode the titanium plates. ​From the dark waters of the bay, the first of the Blood-Wraiths emerged. They weren't shifters, and they weren't machines. They were spindly, multi-limbed horrors made of a dark, oily substance that seemed to absorb the light around them. They didn't have eyes; they had "Scent-Slits" that pulsed with a red, bioluminescent glow. ​"They're not hunting us for our Resonance," Maya said, her golden-white aura flickering as she raised a shield. "They're hunting us for the 'Zero-Variable.' They’re scavengers of the 'New-Evolution'."

Tia, the base's officer, and a few others quietly snuck off when they saw Walter and the others focused on putting together an inventory checklist from the battlefield while Chase carefully inspected his finger and the lightning spear. "I'll go after them, Chase!" Cyril shouted at him. He was now a fan of Chase and wanted to leave with him. However, he had not completed the mission given to him by his masters. He decided to stay and finish his mission when he spotted Tia sneaking away.

“The Wraith... it's in pieces!” Thorne's golden eyes sparkled. "The pieces..." Everything... It is falling apart because of how strong she is!"" I looked into Draven's dark blue eyes. The Wraith will try one last trick, even though you are bound to the moon. It will attack you physically and test your heart, soul, and everything you hold dear.

Yet, beneath their assurances, I sensed an undercurrent of fear—a testament to The Wraith's growing notoriety. --- Damian's Perspective Our scouts returned with troubling news. The Wraith had been systematically targeting communities loyal to our cause, sowing discord and undermining our authority. Their methods were calculated, leaving minimal evidence and maximizing psychological impact. "We're dealing with a tactician," Niko observed during our briefing. "Someone who understands our operations and exploits our weaknesses." "Agreed," I responded. "We need to anticipate their moves and outmaneuver them." We devised a plan to lure The Wraith into the open, using misinformation to bait them i

𖦹 THEME SONG OF THE CHAPTER𖦹 ★ Butterfly Effect By Travis Scott ★ [[ IRIS'S POV ]] I would be crashed drastically by heaven gods if I admitted that I wasn't feeling hypnotised under his intense gaze. His blue eyes were stuck on my baffled face as if it was looking through every inche of my emotions. He kept our eye contact for a few seconds not bothering to answer my previous question before speaking through his pursued lips, " Can you move now, Miss Young?"

Everything I had tried to bury, everything the Rift had sensed and stored over the centuries, coalescing into one dark, watchful pulse. A sudden shift in the shadows drew my eyes. The Wraiths appeared, not in swarms this time but individually, tall and thin with translucent bodies that bent the light of the silver veins into fractured specters. Their eyes glowed faintly, observing, judging, waiting. “Do not falter,” Cael whispered. “They feel fear. They feed on hesitation.” I took a step forward, feeling Auren’s hand on my lower back, steadying, urging. Cael’s gaze bore into mine, molten silver, burning away the remnants of doubt. Together, we approached the pedestal.

“/Shelley’s the Cup Bearer, right? What about the Necromancer, and the Tiger? What about Tala? And didn’t you say Reese was an enemy now?/” Jade was there, she saw the ghosts. It’s Sarah’s secret, but it’s a secret Jade already knows. “/Sarah is the Necromancer, the one who brought the ghosts. She’s not making zombies or anything like that. The ghosts just…. like her, I guess. I don’t know who the Tiger is. Tala hasn't made up her mind yet if she wants to join, but she’s sworn to secrecy. Reese, uh. Turns out yes, they were brought up a Hunter because that’s what their family is, and Hunters hunt vampires and werewolves, but Reese doesn’t agree with their folks.

Wraith's expressionless face turned gloomy, sunken and weighted down by something Dionysus could not fully grasp. "I was cast out of the hunters, Sire. Because I am a boy who has been of age today." Wraith's lips quivered. He blinked and stared up at the house ahead before adding, "And Artemis can only accept me until I turned sixteen. I am an immortal temptation to my fellow hunters, even if I deem them sisters, I had to go." Dionysus can't find it in himself to speak about his sister's ways. He had never gotten along with anyone except his older brother, Hephaestus.