Romans & histoires Tobias Ghost Eyes

Footsteps echoed, slow and deliberate, a rhythmic dread building with each approaching sound. Then he appeared. Toby. Or back then—Tobias. Taller than the other children, always lurking in the shadows where the caretakers’ watchful eyes couldn’t reach. And that smile. The one that never quite reached his eyes, a chilling promise of malice. “There you are,” he whispered, his voice a sibilant hiss as he crouched in front of her. “Hiding again?” She tried to move, to scramble away, but her legs wouldn’t obey, frozen in place by a primal fear that had consumed her.

She turned and saw him emerging from behind a black velvet curtain. Tobi stood at least six feet tall, his frame lean but muscular beneath a tight black t-shirt that stretched across his chest. Sleeves of ink covered both arms, a tapestry of Japanese waves on one side, mythological creatures on the other. His dark hair was tousled as if he’d been running his fingers through it, and a day’s worth of stubble shadowed his strong jawline. But it was his eyes that caught her, piercing blue, the color of glacial ice, framed by surprisingly long lashes. They studied her with an intensity that made her breath catch.

My shock died the moment his eyes met mine, my blood turned to ice instantly. Tobias’s blue eyes narrowed on me but that’s not what made my skin crawl, that’s not why goosebumps pebbled. It was his eyes, the oddest shade of blue and behind them… absolutely nothing. Only one other person I’d seen them on. T. The world seemed to tilt, my grip on Ronald unconsciously tightened. A cold sweat broke, rolling down my spine but Tobias just stared at me, his brows knotting in confusion. “Are you okay, Miss Catherine?”

But the strangest thing happened. As my face turned to him, the contact lens from my left eye fell. The green-brown shimmer vanished. My real eye, its haunting icy blue hue, locked onto his. And his entire world seemed to freeze. His lips parted. His chest stopped moving for a breath too long. He stared at me “…Amiee?” he whispered. I blinked through the blur, confused. “What?” His hand loosened in my hair. His expression changed—not softer, just... haunted.

Then Kenny changed. Not completely. Not the dramatic Hollywood version I would have imagined if anyone had asked me to imagine it, which no one ever had because this wasn't something people imagined. It was subtler and more terrifying than that. His eyes changed first — deepening to something amber and luminous that had nothing to do with the warm brown I knew. His frame expanded slightly, shoulders broadening, presence intensifying until he filled the room in a way that had nothing to do with physical size. The air around him hummed.

’ My eyes were saying, and the man's lips curled up in a smirk as if he understood, and he leaned down until his lips were just inches away from mine, his eyes fixated on mine. “I wanted to watch you come undone.” He whispered, and the effect was instantaneous; my pupil dilated, and a sharp exhale left me, very similar to a moan if you would ask me. Against my will, red stained my cheeks, and I shifted my gaze from his eye to the ceiling above him, the dresser, anywhere but him. I couldn’t bear to look at his eyes, which were stripping me of every rational thought. But Toby wasn’t going to let me go scot-free, and he held my jaw with his thumb and forefinger, keeping my gaze on him, and I fl

Nomo shouted, his finger tightening on the rifle. Toby didn't have time to answer. He didn't have time to scream. Suddenly, Toby’s head didn't just snap back—it erupted. It wasn't a bullet or a blade. It was a massive, involuntary burst of psychic pressure that originated from the center of his skull. The force of the explosion sent Toby’s visor flying across the room, followed by a spray of bone and dark, pressurized blood that painted the violet-blue walls a sickening shade of crimson. Toby’s body stood upright for a single, gruesome second, the execution device falling from his lifeless fingers and clattering to the floor. Then, he crumpled like a marionette with its strings cut, his rema

His claws rested against nothing and still seemed capable of breaking mountains. His eyes were blue. Intense. Deep. The same impossible depth I had seen in Tobias’s eyes, but older. Larger. Less human. Looking into them felt like staring into a sky that had watched kingdoms burn and still remembered the first name of every flame. I should have been afraid. I was. But not because he hated me. Because he was power, and power did not have to be hostile to make the body tremble.

*****ALPHA XANDER’S POV**** "Welcome back," the second ghost said, a hint of excitement in her voice. "You're intelligent, figuring it out without my hint, which you couldn't decipher." She extended her hand towards me, and I reluctantly handed her the eyeball she had requested. She giggled and swallowed it, transforming into a terrifying octopus in the blink of an eye. Its menacing tentacles writhed everywhere, except where I stood. The sheer size of the creature overwhelmed me with fear, and I struggled to maintain eye contact.

Lyra felt it instantly. His body went rigid, shoulders tightening like he’d been struck. “What is it?” she asked. Tobias didn’t answer. He moved forward quickly, limping more now, his breath turning uneven. He reached one of the shelves and lifted an empty space where scrolls should have been stacked. His fingers hovered in disbelief. Then he whispered, almost inaudible, “No…” Lyra stepped closer, her stomach tightening. “What’s missing?” Tobias’s eyes darted across the shelves like he was counting ghosts.