Ghost Fleet Novelas e Histórias

By the time Richard arrived, the funeral was almost over. Everyone who had come to say goodbye was gone. Only I remained. I wanted a little more time with Chloe. She'd always been clingy. And she was afraid of the dark. "Richard, see? I told you Selena was lying. If this were really a funeral, why is nobody here? This is obviously another stunt to get you to come home." Grace's voice cut through the silence. Richard's face darkened.

It was a Psychological-Horror landscape—the sanctuary had become a gallery of Elara’s maternal trauma. "Elara, stay back," Kazimir warned, drawing his Glitch-Blade. The flickering edge hissed as it moved through the air, sensing the Corrupted-Code of the ghosts. "The garden is dying, Elara," the ghosts whispered in unison, a hundred different voices creating a Polychromatic Chorus that shook the ground. "The General is gone, but the shards remain. We are the 'Infection' you can never delete." One of the ghosts—the one in the lab coat—walked toward Elara. She didn't have feet; she drifted across the grass, the moss turning to gray ash beneath her. She stopped inches from Elara’s face.

Snow started falling—hard and fast. I stood there on the curb, freezing, shaking. Three hours in, my phone died. Sonia never came. Before the screen went black, one last thing flashed—Pierre's post. A selfie. Him and Sonia in front of some car, her face turned halfway. Caption: [Under the same snow, our hair turns white. Close enough to growing old together, right?] In the dead glass, my reflection stared back—smiling. Not bitter. Just done. The hundredth promise, traded for a concert and a boy toy.

It was a lot to take in. I needed a long time to process it all. My ghostly roommate was actually a legendary former employee of my own company. I closed my laptop with mixed emotions. “So… did the accident trap you here?” After a long silence, Nathaniel’s voice echoed softly in my head. It was faint, almost hazy. “It wasn’t an accident.” My heart dropped. Before I could ask for details, the voice vanished. The next few days at the office were quiet.

I suppose this means I'm about to have another not-so-pleasant chat with him, just as I did before, during, and after the Mate Ball. He's the one who had held me up after the liminal order arrived Crestbane, and he turned my body to stone so he could interrogate me about the state of Liminal Kaelith’s room, which he said was not in order. A signature behavior of mine. As we pass through the halls, I sense slight tremors in Velthra and know it's because of all the Ghasts there. Most people don't understand much about these creatures. They are like soul eaters and are readily available to feast on anything they find physically in Velthra.

I was gone, and it wasn't as though they could speak ill of me now, not while my body was being buried in the ground. Even my mother-in-law came. She was already a frail, tiny woman, but seeing her there made her appear decades older. Grayson knelt before my gravestone, convinced he was performing some act of atonement. But to me, his presence was nothing more than repulsive. After the funeral, he returned to the small apartment. Alice, starved for three days, lay there, barely clinging to life. The moment she saw Grayson, fear overtook her—a fear she couldn't hide.

I call ghost, he got more than one skill, and opening closed-door virtual and real ones are one of his many skills. He uses his key locks tools and messes with the door for a bit until it opens. Finally, I walk down with ghost behind me, I find a small girl laying naked on the floor. She's thin, too thin, her blond hair match mine only hers is dirty and matted on her head. Her blue eyes are hardly open, I can see bruises all over her fragile body. Taking off my shirt I cover her quickly and pick her up leaving this hell behind. "You're safe now baby sister" I whisper in her ears she closes her eyes letting darkness take her.

"You'll be fine. You're too mean to die." Lucky shook his head once, grimacing in pain at the movement. "Get…this…son of…a bitch," he ground out. "Kill him." Grey knew exactly who he meant. Fantasma. Ghost. Everyone in the intelligence community knew of him, but identifying him was another thing. Probably the main reason they called him Ghost. He was invisible, leaving no trace and evaporating into the night. But JSOC had gotten a lead on who it might be, information they shared with no one except Grey's SOG team. The more the information was shared, the greater the chance for disaster.

But they all felt so fucking real. Jesus! The thought of having sex with a ghost made me sick all over. My stomach knotted as a full-blown terror took root. A fever ran down my body and my skin gallop with goose pimples. "Do you see her?" his question brought me back to reality. I nodded slowly. "So those times I see you talking to yourself, it is her you are talking to?" I motioned. "Jesus!" he exclaimed. "You need deliverance with serious prayers oh!"