Darkness Whispers Novels & Stories

"If you're well equipped with the elements, your subconscious will guide you to what you desire and hope to solve. In your case, I highly think you will get a small idea about your wolf. Whether it's just a feeling you'll feel, or a small vision. It depends." The darkness that surrounded my vision didn't leave me feeling uneasy as it always did it was somehow oddly soothing. I guess it's because of the items that Dimitri bought with him. The soft music that was playing low is all but purely relaxing. It gave me an aura of relaxation and concentration. Or perhaps the bowls that were close by, did a trick as well. Either way, it was working surprisingly well for me since I thought it would be

But it wasn’t emptiness. The darkness breathed. I closed my eyes and listened. The whispers of the spirits slithered through the air, voices from beyond the veil, their words barely comprehensible but laced with malice. They hungered. They yearned for blood, for chaos, for vengeance. And I would give it to them. “This is only the beginning,” I whispered. With a flick of my wrist, the first wave of Shadow-born dispersed into the night. They moved like phantoms, slipping between the cracks of reality itself, vanishing into the darkness that welcomed them like old friends.

The wolves shook the remnants, the dark power falling like shards of darkness from the wolves’ jaws as they disintegrated. Bri smiled sadly as the wolf energy morphed, spinning into a vortex that consumed Lorraine, Draven, and Beckham’s lifeless body, blocking them from sight. The living two shrieked in horror within the darkness. The moon pulsed overhead and the darkness erupted into a churning blinding light. Everyone blocked their eyes, that was except for Bri, Wyatt, and myself. Somehow we could see through it, as the light tore them apart and they fell away into nothing. The light winked out and the dark power pulled back to reveal an empty stage. That is except for Silas.

Dark of Night Copyright 2019 Emily Goodwin Chapter One “What do you see when you look at this one?” The doctor holds up a card, showcasing an ink splotch that’s twisted and creepy, with eyes that follow you no matter where you go. I look at it, heart hammering away inside my chest. The mess of ink on the white paper reminds me of the monster that lurks in Nana and Papa’s basement, the one that tried to get Abby and Scott to go downstairs with it.

The exhaustion from my emotions dragged me away into the darkness easily. I closed my heavy eyes as my subconscious took over. The dark abyss appeared around me. Pure darkness with no escape. I wasn't falling, instead standing on the water but never being wet. I heard the ticking of the clock. Tick, tick, tick. Panic was rising. I had no idea what the ticking was or where it was coming from, but something deep inside me knew it was not good. I felt like it signaled the end. But the end of what was unclear.

Just darkness and shadows and in the shadows, Elara noticed a dark figure walking towards her. Fear crippled her, locking her to the spot she was standing in. The dark figure continued to approach, closer, closer till it was almost right in front of her. Elara sat upright in bed, drenched in sweat, her chest heaving. She was awake! Elara knew she was awake, but the darkness did not seem to leave. The whispers weren’t fading when she woke. Instead of retreating, they sharpened, they became louder, so loud, she could hear every distinct word.

Someone else, Margaret? Then he looked away. That hurt more than the rejection itself. The pain in my chest became unbearable. Everything around me started spinning. The whispers sounded distant. My breathing turned uneven. Then darkness swallowed me whole. ***** When I opened my eyes again, the room was dark except for the lamp glowing beside the bed. For one peaceful second, I forgot everything. Then it all crashed back at once, making my head spin violently. My chest tightened painfully. I blinked slowly and realized Ethan was asleep beside me, one arm wrapped tightly around my waist. Mora was curled up awkwardly on the sofa nearby.

Then every remaining candle erupted out simultaneously. Darkness crashed over the cathedral. Not ordinary darkness. Heavy darkness. Breathing darkness. Cassian stilled. For the first time since I met him, I saw genuine alarm fracture his composure. That terrified me more than anything else. Then the whisper returned. You are opening. The voice slithered through my skull so violently I gasped. Not one voice. Thousands. Layered together beneath each other, ancient and wet and patient. Images detonated behind my eyes. Black oceans stretching forever beneath a dead sky.

“I can’t—I won’t—” I grab his wrist, stopping him. His skin is hot beneath my fingers, his whole body tense like he’s barely holding himself together. I squeeze gently. “I’m still here,” I whisper. “I’m still me.” For now. The words remain unspoken, but I can see in his eyes that he hears them anyway. The Whispering Darkness That night, I don’t sleep. Every time I close my eyes, I hear it. “Daniel…” The voice slithers through my mind like oil, thick and suffocating. It doesn’t scream. It doesn’t demand.

Every step echoed through the silence, weighing me down. We walked deeper into the warehouse, the air thickening with tension. I could feel the Master's presence, his power coursing through the space like an invisible current. My heart pounded in my chest, anticipation building with each step. What lay ahead? As I followed Vikram through the winding corridors of the abandoned warehouse, the air grew thick with an eerie, palpable presence. It was as if the very walls trembled with anticipation, sensing the formidable being that awaited us. We stopped before a grand, ornate door, its surface etched with ancient symbols of dark power. Vikram pushed the door open, revealing a cavernous chamber b