Ghosted Whispers Novels & Stories

The dimensional jump spat us out onto a vast, crumbling platform of obsidian, suspended in a boundless, starless void. Above us, a gargantuan, swirling vortex of iridescent gases crackled with silent, terrifying energy. The air tasted of ozone and ancient dust. “The Whispering Gate,” Misha breathed, her voice a mix of awe and trepidation. She clutched my hand, her other resting protectively on her stomach. The air itself thrummed with a low, insidious murmur—a chorus of voices, barely audible, yet everywhere. They whispered promises of forgotten power, echoes of lost loves, temptations woven from regret. It was a symphony of despair.

Damon chimed in, a grimace slipping into place. Making a sound of agreement, Knight stood and stretched his arms above his head, groaning as his back cracked. “I wonder if they’ve uncovered anything new themselves. Didn’t they say they had Kalix investigating?” “The Whisperer,” Ghost hummed. Kalix, aka the Whisperer, was a wolf with the uncanny ability to project himself to anyone he locked eyes with. It didn’t matter how well protected the person was. One glance and he’d be able to visit them.

Ghost’s voice, weak but alive: “…Still here…”

Then, a whisper. It was faint at first, barely distinguishable from the wind. But as we pressed on, it grew louder—disjointed murmurs echoing all around us. The whispers wove together in an eerie symphony of voices, some pleading, others laughing in a way that sent a chill down my spine. Freya stopped in her tracks. “Tell me someone else hears that.” Bram nodded grimly. “We all do.” Sienna gritted her teeth. “It’s the Phantoms. Keep walking. Do not—”

I whispered, my words slipping through the air like a sharp blade. Her face paled, and her hands trembled as the realization washed over her. Samantha, the ghost from our past, a specter we had long thought banished to the depths of forgotten memories. Yet here she was, resurfacing like a vengeful spirit, intent on wreaking havoc upon our fragile existence. I moved swiftly, my hands still feverishly gathering our belongings, tying up loose ends. It was a race against time, against the shadow that loomed ominously over us. I refused to let Samantha's malicious intent extinguish the fragile flame of hope that burned within our hearts.

They were memories, trying to break through whatever had been done to suppress them. "Mica," I whisper into the darkness, my voice breaking on the name just like his had. "My name is Mica.”

The rune beneath her hand flared, and a whisper brushed the back of her mind. You came back. She jerked back, eyes wide. “What?” Lira asked sharply. Nora looked around, scanning the air. The whisper had been soft, almost kind, a voice she hadn’t heard in years. “Someone just spoke to me.” Grayson unsheathed his blade. “Someone, or something?” “Both, maybe,” Nora whispered. The pendant flared again, burning hot against her chest — and the air around them thickened like fog. Figures began to take shape inside the mist: silhouettes of people, dozens, hundreds and frozen mid-motion, faces half-formed, eyes hollow.

In Abigail’s heart of hearts, she already knows, she has a special admiration for Debbie since the day they met. Abby hasn’t forgotten the days she felt the special connection, though it may not mean anything to Debbie but mere thoughtless words. She can vividly recall; it was their first meet up, as Debbie whispers to her ears and said, “I prayed for you when you’re sick.” Abigail was puzzle when Debbie did know she was sick; in fact, she was not ill during that time. It remains a mystery to Abby why did Debbie whisper those words. It was a sweet melody that touches her soul.

the whispering spirit mumbles and all her body disappears. "What the fuck is that? Shit!" A voice wails at a being that just appeared in his room.

Without her realizing it, her long-buried grievances seemed to be easing away. Her eyes turned watery. The lyrics were a bunch of simple and straightforward words, yet she found herself completely absorbed in them. "Whisper of the Silence." Danise smiled. "Lovely song, isn't it?" "Whisper... of the Silence?" A glimmer appeared in her lifeless gaze. "Such a beautiful name. Is this your latest work?" "How I wish. It's Kyle." Staring into her eyes, he continued, "He composed it with hopes that it could reach the ears of somebody he misses."