The Whisperman Novels & Stories

came a whisper in the night, one spoken with hope. This was a whisper with a mind of its own. A creature like a voice, unable to be seen, or felt, but one able to see, feel, and smell. It was the whisper of a being called Rose Steele, and she was currently one of the captives of the house of silence, the very body of the house itself. This was what time had done to Rose and her sisters. This was what a curse had done to them against their will. But a whisper had been sent. A feeling of hope to be restored.

Annika said as she signaled Sophia to sit beside her on the couch. She sighed but was still cautious about the man. “Sophia, he is not dangerous. Stop being agitated.” Annika said as she tried to convince her sister. “I-I’m sorry if you think I’m somewhat suspicious, but I just came here because I’ve cleared things about Annika. My name is Liam Morgan.” Liam said very calmly and tried to shake Sophia’s hands. Sophia looked at his face intensely and she wondered why the man seemed familiar. She then grabbed his hand and shook it and said, “I’m Annika’s older sister, Sophia.”

"Your existence is destructive, you'll bring disasters in the life of your loved ones" I cried my heart out, the fear absorbed me, but the dreadful voice seemed to neglect my suffering and continued "you traitor! Murderer! Wait for your karma to destroy you as you destroyed them," The voice kept on echoing. I covered my ears in horror. I screamed but I couldn't find a single soul that could offer me a helping hand. I could listen to the voice rising wild and nigher the trees and its leaves the drifting air, the ground that I was fallen on with misery the rocks that stood still in its might all that existing around me whirled in a motion and whispered "It's time for your retribution, it's ti

The following day, I ventured out again, determined to reconnect with Brodie. This time, I pushed past the familiar two-mile marker. When I finally made the connection, it came too easily—almost alarmingly so. I refrained from speaking, choosing instead to simply sit in the silence and listen. But the quiet was unnerving. All I could hear was the relentless whisper of the wind, swirling around me like a ghost in a desolate landscape. It felt eerily still wherever Brodie was. I concentrated harder, pushing deeper into our connection, striving to see the world through his eyes.

Maybe— The man reached out, tucking a loose strand of her hair behind her ear before trailing his fingers down her arm. Sienna tilted her head slightly, letting the touch linger, her body language relaxed, almost inviting. Then she whispered something, her voice too low for Ethan to catch, but whatever she said made the man chuckle—a deep, indulgent sound that made Ethan’s skin prickle with unease.

I know where the line is, and I know how to walk it without falling. He finally lifts his gaze. Gray eyes. Cold as the barrel of a gun. He’s in a black button-down, sleeves rolled. There’s a silver watch on his wrist and a blade on the desk in front of him, not decorative. He likes to clean his knives when he’s bored. Or when he’s thinking about someone who needs to disappear. “I’ve been hearing whispers,” he says calmly. “About you.” My blood turns to glass. “Oh?” “You’ve been spending time in the South District.”

Loud laughs and hoots of encouragement rose from the crowd watching, as they found my humiliation very entertaining. She lowered her head close to mine and whispered. “I wish you would cease to exist.”

She hushed a whisper as he gritted struggling to free his hands from the cuff. "Please, don't. You're hurting yourself," she whispered when they heard footsteps and those two men approached them. They faintly glanced at Issac before one of them crouched down near Innessa. He cupped her jaw causing her lips to pucker out as he made her face him. "You've got a pretty little mouth, girl." The guy smirked as his friend laughed. Issac growls viciously rattling the chair. "Let her go!" His voice boomed as that guy tsked but didn't let her go.

The sounds of the city—the distant horns, the sirens, the hum of traffic—seemed to fade into the background. He didn't say a word, just took my hand, his thumb tracing my knuckles. He was covered in soot, his jacket torn from our narrow escape down the fire escape, but his eyes were clear for the first time in months. The man who had been the "broken" cousin, the silent artist in the basement, was gone. In his place was a man who had forged his own path through the furnace. ​"It’s over," he said, his voice raspy and exhausted.

He must decide whether he will continue running from the ghosts of his past. Or stand beside the man who has never stopped believing in him. Because this time, choices won't just cost him his life. It will destroy everything Tom has sworn to protect. Love will be tested, bonds will be broken. Secrets will demand blood. And the whispers... The whispers have just turned into something.......silent! THE MUTE WHISPERER is the gripping second installment of the Whisperer series—a haunting tale of love, guilt, healing, and a darkness that never truly died.