The Gentle Voices Lie Novels & Stories

I was lying on something soft. A Sheets? A bed? I questioned myself rhetorically. Then I began to hear voices, not far fetched from the spot I laid. “She’s been out for days. How is this possible?” “We don’t know. It shouldn’t be.” A beat of silence ensued and then a third voice followed, the voice was low and commanding at the same time. “I’ll handle it.” Something in that voice sent a shiver down my spine. Let's say, a warning—or possibly, a threat.

Sounds arrived like whispers from another world — soft, comforting voices murmuring just beyond her comprehension. A low, vibrating murmur brushed against her ear. “Shh, sweet one. It’s all right. We’re here.” The voice was unfamiliar, yet soothing, maternal without being cloying. The hands that held her were warm, careful, and reverent, cradling her as though she were the most delicate object in existence. Each tiny shift, each subtle tension in the air, she felt in her chest.

Peaceful on the surface. But something feels off. I lie down slowly, pulling the covers over myself. My eyes grow heavy. Sleep comes. Softly. But not gently. Because deep into the night A sound breaks the silence. Soft. Careful. From inside my room. And I am no longer alone.

What if this was all just another trap, another way for the universe to laugh at me? I took a step forward anyway and I could hear the whispers from the other students, see their phones out—some recording while some pretended not to. Adrian’s stare burned into my back and Tricia’s nails dug into her palm, the tiniest sound of her sharp intake of breath reaching me. “Take your time,” Gentle said softly, almost under his breath. I glanced up at him. His expression was unreadable but not cold. Maybe he saw how badly my hands trembled as I reached for the box.

"There are voices of people that linger when their lives are unjustly taken from this earth," Crystal said. "Voices of blood, and people who can't get justice for themselves. These voices belong to the souls of the dead, and the innocent. They can haunt you, torment you, and even try to kill you if they are strong enough. They are like air. They can't be seen. They can't be touched. They can be felt, but mostly through one's hearing. They glide in the air. The strong wind can stop them, and so can fire. Nature doesn't necessarily stop them, but anything too loud for you to hear them can temporarily stop them. And that is why they are called whispers.

But I held back my tears because the man behind all this suffering was right next to me. For the first time in years, Francis stayed next to my bed the entire night. That was until his phone rang. Despite being someone who was irritable in the morning, his voice was surprisingly gentle when he answered the call. "Be a good girl now, I have something urgent to deal with. Go back to sleep if you'd like, I'll buy your favorite soufflé on my way back." Whitney seemed to be crying especially loudly today. It took Francis ten minutes of coaxing before she started to calm down.

she asked softly, her voice still weak from her ordeal. Liora considered this. “It’s… full,” she said, her voice calm but carrying a new, resonant weight. “The air is full of stories. The fear that soaked into these walls, the relief of the roots drinking the morning dew. It’s all there, I just have to listen. She flexed her fingers, and for a heartbeat, the silver light under her skin pulsed in time with the sigh of the wind. Ash flinched. A small sound broke the silence. Wood scraping.

I stepped into the noise of human thought and raised my voice. Not loud. Clear. “They bled because they hid,” I said. “They lied. They ruled without care.” The voices wavered. I continued. “Not all gods are tyrants. Some protect. Some watch. Some love.” A pause rippled through them. “They say that now.” “They want us to be calm.” “They want control.” My hands shook, but my voice stayed steady. “Control is built on silence. I am not silent.” Kieran’s voice brushed mine. You’re doing this without power.

the man smiled at the audience. Kurt’s mother flashed an evil smile. Kurt and Annika were both stunned. They didn’t know something like this would come up. Catherine planned to embarrass Annika in front of many people, but what she didn’t know is that Annika was a good singer. Annika looked at Kurt’s mother with a smirk. It’s on, bitch. She stood up and gracefully walked to the stage. Kurt was nervous but he couldn’t do anything. Annika took the mic. “Hello, everyone. My name’s Annika. I am with my boyfriend, Kurt Morgan.” The spotlight went to Kurt. He waved his hand and smiled, but he was still nervous. “Tonight I will sing Girl On Fire and I dedicated this song to the mother of my boyfrie

Lightsticks beamed brightly in the darkness, flooding the space with vibrant hues. "Silence speaks for those who listen." Kyle's magnetic voice came through as he jumped down the swing. The music gradually grew louder. "This song tells the story of a boy who took forever to understand the whispers of his silence, finally losing the girl he loves," he continued. "Hope you'll enjoy it."