Deadly Whispers True Story Novels & Stories

"Your existence is destructive, you'll bring disasters in the life of your loved ones" I cried my heart out, the fear absorbed me, but the dreadful voice seemed to neglect my suffering and continued "you traitor! Murderer! Wait for your karma to destroy you as you destroyed them," The voice kept on echoing. I covered my ears in horror. I screamed but I couldn't find a single soul that could offer me a helping hand. I could listen to the voice rising wild and nigher the trees and its leaves the drifting air, the ground that I was fallen on with misery the rocks that stood still in its might all that existing around me whirled in a motion and whispered "It's time for your retribution, it's ti

Devastated by the passing of her beloved husband, Veronica eventually took her life away, leaving their daughter all alone. And the name of the wicked woman who caused this disastrous happening was... Evelyn Qian, the founder of DreamMare." "How... How did this leak out?" Her voice quavered, and her pupils narrowed in shock. Danise frowned and shook his head. "No idea. Someone released it this morning, and now the entire media is buzzing about it. Even DreamMare has announced its temporary closure until further notice."

It was a nightmare! I have been coping with all the dangerous and painful whispers of the dark for quite some time already. I dream about the same thing almost every fucking night! I do not get the connection... In my dreams, I retain seeing two people. And I know for a fact that it's not a reverie. It was my memory. A memory from a hundred years ago! When I was still in the 17th century! Centuries have passed and that girl, even when it's tough for me to concede, is probably dead.

"Please don't kill them." I mean, yeah, these people were total cowards, but killing them in cold blood had to be the worst possible thing. That made us like them, didn't it? "I can't promise that, Casey," Derek whispered. "They won't let us just walk out of here. There's more just like them inside the building. All it takes is one yell for help across the warehouse, and we're all dead. These guys are trained. They killed people here, Casey. They were going to kill us." He let out a soft chuckle. "You know what they told us?"

I ask, dumbfounded, low-key having the idea. “You think I'm the only miserable bitch here who fucks any potential cock she can find?” she asks venomously. “No, Keila. I know everything. I know everything about you and Jordan…” My heart is on my throat and my eyes twitch in anxiety. “and also his brother…Sebbastian Steele.” By this time, my other leg follows and they're completely in sync as I retreat slowly. After hearing the words she speaks, terror sucked the very breath and words from mine. I hear a faint gasp: I didn't realize it's my own not until later.

Everyone can hear the silence between them. “The nobles decided to share this little treasure to everyone…” he said, then two guys appeared from the back of the stage while carrying a bag. It took for a moment until they opened the three bags and everyone was shocked from what they saw. “What is this?” “Wait…is this for real?” ‘They’re not joking right?” Everyone gasped as they saw three dead bodies in front of them. “Two of them are from last year’s goods, while the other one is a fresh student from Murray Building and was killed just this morning,” he said, which makes everyone speechless.

“What was I supposed to say? No one wanted the story back then, and the girl asked me not to make it bigger. I still feel sick that I listened.” We kept our voices low and our mouths half-covered, laughing at intervals so anyone watching from a distance would assume we were only trading ordinary premiere stories. The alcohol made the words come easier than they should have. I told her the version I had carried for years, careful even while tipsy not to use names the cameras might catch, and Sofia matched me with details she had heard from someone else in the industry who had been warned to stay quiet. We were deep in the quiet, vicious satisfaction of shared disgust when the very man we were

Please don't let it be them. "There were two known passengers aboard at the time of the crash," the reporter continues. "Two senior government agents. Cade and Dorathy Storm." The room stops. My breath catches and doesn't come back. I stare at the screen and wait for something to correct itself, a retraction, a mistake, anything. But the weight in my stomach doesn't lift. It drops further. "No," I whisper. The word barely makes it out.

“I was part of the approval process, yes. But I didn’t know about the injections. The memory suppression drug. That wasn’t in the files I signed.” “You looked the other way,” she snapped. “When patients started dying. When red flags piled up. You chose silence.” He didn’t deny it. “Because I was scared,” he whispered. “Because I thought if I played along, it would pass. That they’d fix it quietly.” Sophia’s voice was steel. “They didn’t fix it. They buried it. And now thirty-seven people are dead.” The room was thick with silence.

My thumb paused mid-click. The news anchor looked grim. “Just now, someone released a secret video showing Dominic Rossi killing an Italian Mafia boss, Carlo Cotti. This is one of the pieces of evidence linking to the said death that had been wiped clean for almost a decade. Just months prior, a journalist from the Italian popular website had made an article about Dominic belonging to the mafia world. It seems the truth is coming out faster than we hoped.” The glass fell from my hand. It hit the floor and shattered.