He Knew My Voice Day One Novels & Stories

I said. "I knew it," he said and I could hear the smile in his voice. "I told you. Didn't I tell you?" "Yes, you did," I admitted. There was a brief pause and then he said, "You sound like you just closed a regular deal. Lin… this is huge." "I know…" I said. "You sound a little off. Did something happen?" I blinked. "What do you mean?" "You don’t sound okay." I frowned slightly. I hated how well he knew me.

And I had been walking around with the replacement for twenty years without knowing it was a replacement. He said: the first time I heard your voice say my name in the conference room, something in me recognized it. Not your face, not immediately, but your voice. I had been hearing your voice in dreams for years and I had not known what it was I was hearing. I know now. And then he wept.

"It is me." I froze. I knew that voice. I knew that voice better than I knew my own name. I knew that voice from bedtime stories. I knew that voice from lullabies. I knew that voice from the nights she sang me to sleep. I knew that voice from the mornings she made me breakfast. I knew that voice from the day she disappeared. I knew that voice from the day they told me she was dead. I knew that voice. It was my mother. --- I did not move.

I’d been speaking in my real voice from the first word. “Okay…” I swallowed. “So how was your day? Anything you’d like me to do for you? Or maybe a name I can call you?” The line crackled faintly, like he was exhaling smoke. “Daddy.” My cock jerked violently against the zipper of my jeans.

I was sure he heard it. ​Neither of us spoke for a long moment. ​Then he started walking toward me. His steps were slow and steady, loud against the floor, until he stopped right behind my chair. He was so close I could feel the heat coming off him without him even touching me. ​I held my breath. ​“You’re tense,” he said. ​His voice was low, and it made a shiver run down my back. It wasn't a question; he just knew. ​I swallowed hard. "First day."

Is someone there? He was still met with silence . He was about to end the call but paused by what the person said next. " Son" That voice. He knew that voice damn so well. ***

I persisted in attempting to contact him, giving it my best. And then it worked, like magic. I could sense the link that bound us together. I said, "Noah," to myself as my voice trembled with emotion. "Are you there? Are you alright?" I heard Noah's voice for the first time, his warmth and presence filling my senses like a warm hug. I was so shocked that I could hardly believe it was real. His quiet, far-off voice sounded like it was coming from the depths of a dream that had been forgotten.

And after six long mundane years, I’ve finally heard his cold baritone voice again. “Good evening, ladies and gentlemen. Thank you for coming here tonight, to welcome my comeback after I woke up from a very deep long sleep.” His voice that I really missed and longed to hear… they sounded thicker, even icier than the last time my ears memorized it. “Now, I want y’all to know that this isn’t just about me. Tonight, it’s not just the firms that I claimed. Let me introduce you someone who consistently stayed on my side since day one onwards…”

What was the point? But then, I heard her. A quiet hum. At first, I thought I was imagining it—another hallucination to pass the hours. But the voice came again. Sweet, soft, humming a melody I didn’t know but suddenly needed. “You’re new,” she said the next day, her voice muffled through the wall. I didn’t answer. “It’s okay. I was new once too.” I sat up, facing the source of her voice. “I’m Kasimira,” she said. “But you can call me Kas.”

I sit up, my spine tensed, and my cuffs rattle as I move. That voice. It was there on the first day, too. It greeted me in the dark. It struck something in me then, but I was too dazed, too disoriented to follow the thought. And I knew it. I felt it then. But I know it now. He’s someone I’ve heard before. He’s someone I’ve seen. And yesterday… the way he said “Toast.” How his voice cracked on it. Sharp. Cutting. I know that voice. It’s a memory just out of reach. Teasing me. Mocking me.