Romans & histoires Echoes Of The Spirit

The moment he called her name on phone, her whole body went through different shivers. Dissimilar bit similar feelings were flowing through her nerves. She doesn’t have words for them…she wanted to comprehend such feel…but was failed. Her heart was in turmoil but with sweetness. Her mind was blank and her body was numb…after few seconds of pause, she again heard his voice…calling her name again.

“You have the powers of death and life, you can speak to us. The girl that died yesterday, she was killed before she could find the truth. Allow us to touch you and you will see our death up close, and you will remind us on how we died.” Before I could say or object to the matter the ghost boy’s hand shot out towards mine. My whole hand was on fire, it was like dry ice, so cold it burned. I shuddered and I could feel my eyes roll up. Images began to appear, and I could almost feel what was happening. I wrenched my hand away, some of the images I saw and feelings remained. I felt like I was being dragged along a dark path to a fixed light, I could feel pain from my struggles to not go where t

That’s when I felt it. Something collided with me, not physical but like a memory trying to take root in bone. My breath hitched. An entity wove through my brain, winding beneath skin and down to marrow, cold and slick and wrong. It whispered through the back of my mind, tugging at old pain like it could unravel me from the inside out. I stumbled, hands clamped to my chest, as my vision darkened at the edges. And then it laughed. The sound wasn’t human. It was cracked, reverb, a hundred whispers at the small of my back. The thing that had wormed out of the splintered ritual wasn’t whole. It wasn’t anything alive. Spectral, Nora had said. Minor. Contained.

“He is not alive, Alpha Damon. Not in the way you think. His body is gone, yes, but his soul... his essence has been trapped by a forbidden spell. A dark echo called ‘The Echo.’” My jaw tightened. I had expected chaos, threats, perhaps whispers of rogues or traitors, but magic? Spirit binding? My wolf growled low in my chest. “Trapped? By whom? And why is this echo reaching out now?”

The deep, echoing hum of the Citadel Obsidian’s core systems was unsettling, almost suffocating in its vastness. Eva and Ryder moved through the labyrinthine hallways, their footsteps synchronized with the rhythmic pulse of the facility. The sterile walls of the Citadel seemed to close in on them, amplifying the weight of their mission. The air was cool, filled with the scent of metal and something faintly chemical—something that felt too controlled, too cold.

The final guideline was written in a jarring red font. [On rare occasions, the station will transmit the Predator's Song. When this occurs, remain completely still and hold your breath until the broadcast concludes.] Hold my breath? Were they trying to asphyxiate me? I pouted and clicked on [I Agree and Start Listening.] The so-called 'Echoes from Below' were nothing more than just some white noise, like the wind moving through an empty corridor or a massive creature slowly exhaling beneath the water. Rumble. The sound was low and heavy, with a faint electrical hiss like a bad microphone feed.

And I whispered the incantation that only the two of us knew. “Let me in.” --- The world fell away. Heat, cold, breath, gone. I sank into nothing. Then into everything. Flashes of light spun past me. Threads of magic. Memories not my own. Echoes of laughter, screams, battle cries, a thousand voices dancing on wind and shadow. Until it stilled. And I opened my eyes in the realm of spirit. The sky was pale gold. Endless. And in the center of it stood a tree, tall as a mountain, glowing from root to branch with pulsing veins of white fire.

The house was so quiet that my footsteps echoed through the hallways, a haunting reminder of my solitude. The walls whispered secrets of the past, but it was the silence that screamed the loudest. It was a cacophony of unspoken words, of things left unsaid, of love and betrayal.

And the stillness of her belly. “No...” Her spirit voice was not constrained by lungs or weakness. It echoed, pure and agonized. “No, no, not yet... I’m not done... I’m not done!” But her cries had no anchor in the living world. The warehouse remained unmoved. Yet something else moved.

"Don't ever enter my study again. You're not allowed to touch anything in my room again!" Back then, Liam had spoken to me with a dark expression on his face. Yet, when he turned to hold up the crystal ball, his eyes had been filled with infinite tenderness. He'd shoved me to the floor. When I looked up at him, I unintentionally caught sight of the inscription carved into the base of the crystal ball—"From: Vivi". I thought back to the rather platonic love that Liam and I had shared over the past six years. Liam would say he liked me very much every time, but he would only ever go as far as staring at my lips and holding my hand.