Audible Wheezing Novels & Stories

He seemed like he was about to answer, but then another sneeze came, this one bringing with it a wave of dry coughs that left him wheezing after. I cocked my head and studied him as he blew his nose, then sneezed again, then started coughing even more. “Good Goddess above,” I said, setting aside the arrangements. “You’re not sick, are you?” “No.” His voice was all nasally now, and he looked like he was struggling to hold back more coughs. “I… ACHOO! I’m um… Allergic to black eyed Susans.” “Allergic.” He nodded and coughed some more. This fit was so bad that he turned away, pressing his hand into the wall of the truck, and the force of the coughs shook his entire body—and even the van itself.

My body curled into a defensive ball as I fought a losing battle just to take a single breath. "M-medicine..." I wheezed, my vocal cords strained to a faint whisper. My trembling hand dragged through the damp carpet, trying to find anything where the dissolved pills had already been ruined by the alcohol. For several agonizing seconds, the small room was filled only with the agonizing sound of my suffocating gasps. Then, the sofa leather shifted behind me.

"Goodnight, Kieran." He walked on. Elion hurried to catch up. "Did you really read his medical file?" Elion whispered. "No," Cale said. "Then how did you know?" "He wheezes," Cale said. "On the exhale. Lower left lung." "You heard a wheeze from across the hall?" "I have good ears." "You keep saying that." "It keeps being true." They reached the door to Suite 1. It was massive. Ornate. Ridiculous.

Once again he felt the presence move, but he still could not see it. "Show your f*cking self!" He shouted once more into the room at what seemed like no one at all. This time, he got an answer, but it was not the answer that he expected. Instead, he suddenly began to hear the sound of a wheezing and decrepit old woman breathing her death rattle right into his ear…from somewhere and out of nowhere at all at the same time.

I felt the rim thin to the breaking point—yet it didn’t tear. It stretched. Accommodated. My left forearm joined the right. Two arms. Inside me. Up to the elbows. Then higher. My chest heaved. Breaths came in short, panicked gasps. The bulges in my abdomen were grotesque—two thick ridges moving under the skin, pressing against my stomach, my diaphragm, forcing the air out in wheezes. He curled the fingers inside—both hands—making fists. Then he pumped. Alternating.

I scream at the top of my lungs… silence is all I get in reply. My heart is now in my ears, slamming against my ribcage wildly as I begin to really panic, my entire being trembling. And then it hits my nose, the smell of gas–heavy and definitely toxic. No–no– I'm sent into a coughing fit, clutching at my chest wildly, all the oxygen feeling like it was being sucked out my lungs. My wheezing doesn't let me scream out, my voice lost in my struggle, eyes bloodshot from the effect the now cloudy room was having on me.

My hands flew to my throat, clawing at my neck as if I could somehow tear it open and let the air in. "Lucas!" I tried to scream, but only a horr ible wheezing sound came out. "Help me!"

He twirled around in his bed, having trouble falling asleep. He is huffing, almost as if his lungs had closed down from terrible flu. Suddenly, he is pulled from his slumber. His chest appears to be more receptive to receiving air, but his breathing remains irregular. A loud squeaking sound caused by a door that slides across the oak floor compels him to stand up.

Running around, I tried to find anywhere I could go out of that I wouldn't land into a burning space again. Suddenly, I heard coughing. The person was coughing and wheezing at the same time. I tried to pick up where it was coming from. I traced the sound of the continuous coughing and wheezing, I went up the stairs and I was surprised that the halls were still clear, only a little smoke had gotten up, whereas outside was burning rapidly.

a wheeze from my chest makes my eyes water. That sensation slams into me again with full force, tightening my throat so much that each breath I take becomes shorter and sharper. Like sucking in air through a thin straw. My chest feels caged, caving in on itself and crushing me from within. “Liliana?” Damian perhaps? I can't tell because his voice is warped and distant. Clawing up my throat is a wave of nausea that twists my stomach and next, a deep searing itch that spreads across my skin.