The Whisper Man Novels & Stories

“He is cursed? Oh my God! If the Jamaerah knew that, they would kill him. I think he deserves it… He is a cruel and merciless person. Full of rubbish. Full of stupidity. Arrogance. It’s better if we get out of here. Do you want to get out of here? This is such a stupid question. I will crack these doors open, tell me your story in the meantime. Start the show! The world is full of untold stories.” The man I talked to for a whole day, the man I laughed with and told stories, the man who used his hands to unlock both our cells and lead me outside, the man who knew the hidden passages of the Duke’s mansion, that man… had a mask hiding his face in the shape of a moth. Like the rumour I heard wee

"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.

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.

Following another sneer, Whitney scoffed, “I’m not believing a single word of what you say! Also, stop hoping for a chance to escape! I’ve made sure to feed you drugs that will mask your scent! That way, if any military dogs come by, they won’t be able to sniff you out! Then again, I wouldn’t count on their arrival since this is one of the many network-less villages in the country! The kind where nobody leaves, and nobody bothers to enter!” “With all that said, just shut up already and enjoy your years of retribution to come!” concluded Whitney. Her voice had been quite loud, and this caused the old man living there to wake up. His clothes were all dirty and blotched with black stains, and a

He reached down and in one quick motion grabbed Easy Street by his hair and yanked his entire body off the deck so they could look into each other’s eyes. Except, of course, Easy Street didn’t have any eyes. “This means punishment. Even if it is foretold, you still failed me. Failed her. We demand . . . entertainment.” “God, no . . . ” pleaded Easy Street. “Your feeble God does not sail with us this evening, jazzman.” The ghost screamed. Even the dead had things to fear. J Lulu White’s Saloon, Basin Street, New Orleans 1946 It was hot, damn hot. But the music was hotter.

I opened my mouth in warning but was too late. “Surprise.” He whispered in her ear. She froze making to burn him when he hit her over the head. I watched in horror as she crumbled to the floor. I stuffled in a scream my heart dropping. The man stepped around her as though a piece of furniture. “I have been searching for people like you.” He said softly tilting his head my way. If I hadn't seen him murder people a few minutes ago. I would actually think he was decent. Now I knew they were all honey-coated words. “Shame that you suck at first impressions then.” I spat a curse after pointing out the obvious.

But if I needed to ask Madam Ann about such a person then I was supposed to get his name. "Mr, before you leave, can I know your name? I don't know when I'll meet you again." "Call me, the Whisperer." He said That was indeed a weird name. This time I watched him leave. I pondered over our conversation. He said I wasn't ready to discover why I should have stayed back in Minx. Then when was the time going to be perfect for me to know the truth? **** "You look great today in this red dress Miss Kierra" the

But there’s something there now, something tall, something shaped rather like a person. “Jake!” I hiss, not taking my eyes off the thing. When he doesn’t stir, I turn toward him and repeat his name a little louder. “Jake!” He sits up, blinking slowly in the dark. “What?” he slurs. “There’s somebody out in the swamp,” I whisper. Jake shakes his head dismissively. “It’s only Amos,” he sighs before falling back into bed, snoring once again. “Seriously, Jake!” I press, but it’s no use. He’s fast asleep.

I fumbled for a tissue in my pocket, wiping away the tears that streamed down my cheeks. "I know you can, Tyra." His voice, though faint, held a quiet confidence. Then, through the swirling mist of my tears, I saw him. A silhouette against the dying light, his figure barely discernible, yet somehow radiating a warmth that pierced the chill of the forest.

The days stretched on, and he lost count of how much money he had wasted on these deceitful calls. Tristan and Eleanor watched quietly and felt heartbroken for him, but neither of them dared to stop him. If spending a little money would help ease his suffering, then so be it. They never imagined that Samuel’s mental state would be this bad, teetering on the edge of despair. Soon, even the scammers grew tired of taking his money and stopped calling. All that was left were strange women, bold and direct in their intentions. "Mr. Grant," they would purr through the phone, "Your wife may have turned her back on you, but if you're lonely, we have women of all kinds. We can even find someone who l