Tophat Ghost Mga Nobela at Kwento

The spirit had no lower jaw, only a gaping, bloody hole. I turned my head to look at the oil portrait of Lorenzo on the table. The man in the painting had sharp, chiseled features that radiated a cold, oppressive aura. But in my eyes, a translucent figure hovered at the edge of the frame. The spirit sat astride the frame, his long legs swinging idly as he shamelessly sized me up. He wore an unbuttoned black shirt, revealing an expanse of tattoos across his powerful chest. Even as a spirit, he seemed more alive than anyone else in the room.

“You’re late.” My head popped up as I recognized the gravelly voice. Ghost was leaning against the side of the building, looking like a badass GQ model. He wore slim black cotton pants and a greyish-brown button-down shirt that looked tailored and expensive. The shirt was untucked underneath his motorcycle jacket in an attempt to look casual. Most of the girls walking by walked into one another or stumbled on the edge of the sidewalk. The fact that his eyes were steeled on me raised my spirits.

Valentino stood near the whiskey shelf, already pouring a glass. Ghost set the bag down. “Your French minister better send me a fucking Christmas card.” “You got it?” I asked. He opened the bag, pulling out the heavy gold frame. Thick. Old. Wrapped in silk. “Let me see it,” I snapped. Ghost peeled the cloth away. Silence hit the room like thunder. It was a portrait. A woman. Not just any woman. Eyes dark as ink. Fox at her feet. Red string around her wrist. Fox teeth glinting from her grin.

Ghost is a dark fae, which means he’s greedy, likes death, and likes pretty women with spunk. His short white hair is spiked. Ghost wears a black sleeveless hoodie and black and white checkered jeans with black boots. His eyebrows, nose, and lips are all pierced with gages in both ears. His pointed ears give him away that he is fae. Ghost has all black eyes, much like one would think a demons would be if they were real. Some things are just stories made up of distorted truths. Demons and angels fall into that category. Ghost's pasty white skin almost glows under the glow of the flashing lights.

"Custard, I love you, but you are doing to ruin the dress." 'Master! Spirit.' He spoke to me urgently. Custard was looking to his right and I followed his gaze. There, at the corner of the hallway and passed the weapon's room, stood a man with red hair. I couldn't fully see his face because it was a blur. And his body was transparent enough that I understand what Custard was saying. I stood frozen on my spot as I took a step back. "Nate? Nate!" I quickly ran and started rattling the door. "There's a ghost! There's a ghost!" I screamed and looked at the spirit. It was still there and looking at me. I was kicking and punching the door at this point. "NATHANIEL!" I screamed and stopped when som

The possessive way he fucked me like he both hated and needed me. I forced a grin. “You’re crazy, man. You watch too many movies.” He stepped aside but whispered as I passed, “Run while you still can. He’ll ruin you.” Later that day, I overheard two employees gossiping near the cafeteria. “Did you hear about The Ghost? Some billionaire who shows up masked at underground parties. Pays good money, fucks like a demon, then vanishes. Nobody ever sees his face.” I laughed it off again. But deep inside of me, i was worried for myself.

Being a busy couple, non-had time to study their sons adores and aversions, all through only one person could get through him, their gardener, a very hard-working man in the neighborhood who loved a clean environment. Admiring his designer clothes, Amanda stood by the door leaning at the wall, she watched over him with so much esteeming. She sniffed him from behind over his shoulder. ‘’Wow,’’ she strode along the corridor. “This place has people who are encumbered with money, look at him, he walks with such power,” lost in her thoughts. She napped herself out of her fantasy She took off her shoes and snuck quietly into the living room careful not to bang the door,

That was why it was called Auxilia Guesthouse and café; Auxilia was greek for ‘help’ or ‘safety granted’. The Others were the ghouls who eat humans every day, sometimes just because they were bored. They even crossed over to ghoul kind. The more fresh and alive a human is during consumption, the more powerful and strong a ghoul becomes. The Others were the most powerful and unstable ghouls.

Still he continued. “Hello there.” said a voice behind him and he stopped. It was a man’s voice. Quickly he looked behind him and that was when he saw him. He was standing right behind him, all suited up even though he couldn’t see his face. As if reading his mind, the man picked up the torch and flashed it to his own face so Adam could see him. He was a tall white man in a brown suit and he looked nothing like a ghost. “So, now that you can see that I am not a ghost, I need you to answer one question. What year is it and where am I?”

Jasmine POV: Draco turned his head to drunken Tony’s direction but saw nothing, he cannot see ghost like me… he don’t have astral vision… but I was seeing her….. clearly, her dull and completely white eyes were fixed on me… Yes! it was a women Ghost who was slouching on drunken Tony’s shoulder…. she was wearing a red colored ragged dress with some silver bangles, her hairs were dry and messed up behind her back , her face was pale with several wound mark while her lips were tightly stitched with red colored thread… there was a large goiter on her front side of her neck which was cut open sharply also yellow pus and dark colored blood was oozing out of it…. I was even able to see her broken