Hot Wraith の小説・ストーリー

I stared at my reflection and I saw a little hope in my face that Zyko's changes was real. I merely shook my head. "Don't fall for his game, Sydney. Remember he is Zyko Maurice and he hates you." I heaved a sigh before washing my face. A cold water runs through my palm unto my face, Its feels relaxing and make my mind calm. The cold water wakes me up from believing in Zyko's changes. Of course! It's for his own sake. When I'm done washing my face, I wiped it using a towel and get out from the bathroom. I went to my dressing room to get dressed. I can't go out with my sleeping outfit though. I can't roamed around in the whole house wearing a black lingerie.

The air was still cold, the temperature having dropped significantly due to the Echo Wraith. The Echo Wraith is a haunting presence within the Cavern of Eternal Echoes, a place known for its labyrinthine complexity and the disturbing resonance of every sound. It glides silently through the caverns, leaving behind a trail of maddening echoes. These echoes are warped, amplified distortions that play on the deepest insecurities and fears of those who hear them. They take on the voices of the damned, whispering hidden regrets and unconfessed sins, often blending them with a cacophony of falsehoods to disorient and unsettle their victims.

I watch Ace writing notes into a folder. “Ask about Wraith.” He stops me before he moves back. “Who’s Wraith?” I don’t know a wolf with that name. “He was the first of us. His spirit’s journey was over, but he was there. We were warriors.” He sounds wistful thinking about his old friend. “The Saint sent us out to fight. They ambushed us. Wraith didn’t make it, but he saved Ghost, Crusher, and me. After that, the Moon Goddess said no more wars for Wraith or for me. She let me rest and said it was time for me to be strong and brave in different ways. Then she united me with your human spirit.”

"And it led me to you." Her pulse kicked. "You're a hunter?" "Something like that." The wind shifted, carrying a metallic scent. Blood. Kael's expression changed. "We're not alone." Before Seraphina could speak, shadows broke through the mist-five shapes, crawling low, their eyes glowing white. Wraiths. Demon wraiths. The kind that tore souls from the living. She swung her blade as one lunged at her. Blue fire burst from the runes, cutting it clean in half. Another came from behind, but Kael moved faster-his hand flared red, and a wave of heat exploded from his palm, burning the creature to ash.

They crashed into the wraiths like a black wave, tearing and rending. But wraiths weren't like normal enemies. They reformed almost instantly, their torn pieces pulling back together like liquid. Axel's flames had more effect. The wraiths recoiled from the fire, screeching in voices that hurt to hear. Willow and Walter fought back-to-back, their weapons moving in perfect coordination. Brady and Marcus supported them, covering their flanks. But there were too many wraiths, and more were appearing from the fog. Drawn by the commotion, by the scent of living souls in their domain.

"The Plague wasn't a death sentence, Aradaa. It was a harvest. The North is the storehouse for all that stolen femininity. All that creative power, frozen and used to run the world’s logic." "That’s sick," Kaelor spat, a snarl ripping from his throat. The station began to vibrate. A low-frequency hum turned into a bone-shaking roar. "Thaw Protocol initiated," the Wraith’s voice echoed through the chambers. Above them, the sound of glass shattering rang out. Thousands of glass coffins. The Cryo-Legion was waking up. "I have to stop it!" Aradaa lunged for the core terminal. "I can vent the heat, but..."

What he didn't know was that someone had already informed Amelia about the situation. As the Wraith Infant, it remained in the womb of the undead for several lifetimes without reincarnation, making it more sensitive to changes in human emotions. "Amelia, something was just not right." The Wraith Infant didn't even suck on cakes anymore. (As is well known, wraiths, which are deceased souls, don't eat things in the traditional sense, but rather absorb them. For example, when a wraith consumes a cake, it loses all its sweetness, and when a person eats it, it feels like chewing on wax.)

I curled up in a corner, praying for some warmth. This place used to store frozen seafood. Now, it was just empty shelves and icy air. I stacked the shelves around me, a futile attempt to block the cold. It was useless. When I realized I was dead, a wave of despair washed over me. Seeing my frost-covered body, eyes wide with terror, and bloody nails, I felt a bone-chilling shock. Just as I was about to take a closer look, a force pulled me away, and I found myself standing next to Ean.

“Then we stop it. We’ve done the impossible before.” Alma gave a small, tired smile. “This time, we won’t be alone.” She turned to a console and tapped into an encrypted network. SableNet. An old contact popped up. A woman with violet eyes and a scar running down her temple. “Hello, Wraith,” Alma said. The woman’s lips curled. “Sterling. I knew it wouldn’t be long before you needed me again.” “I need eyes in the Arctic. Dominion’s dead, but Hekate’s waking up.”