Whispering Vine Novels & Stories

I whisper, tears blurring my vision, and a vine coils around my neck. I feel him all of the sudden, his presence all around me. His finger knit with mine, his scent overwhelming, his warmth shocking my body as the vines squeeze every inch of my skin. A sharp pain erupts on my neck, and the vine trying to strangle me screeches in pain before letting go, but I’m drowning in them, squeezed so tight I haven’t been able to breathe, and the already dark hallway is rapidly descending into shadows. I’m pulled, ripped from the vines. My body slides across the ground, broken and bleeding, as I drag out a breath–my last.

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.

hiding spot. As Leila examined the window, she felt something sharp graze her elbow. A shard of glass protruded from the decaying frame, and a mustard-colored longish thread of wool was flapping in the wind. A chill ran down her spine as she realized this was no accidental discovery; someone had left this thread here while watching her aunt’s garden.

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.

She peered around the tree and focused on the ground behind the black wizard’s foot. “Blitha egras sumuss,” she whispered, picturing one of the small vines she had seen growing near her feet. A tiny vine sprouted from the soil behind Josef’s foot, too small to be noticed by the black waziri. “Blitha egras sumuss,” she intoned over and over again. She watched as the vine increased in length and thickness. Next, she pictured it wrapping itself around Josef’s ankle, like the man-eating vines she had seen once in a science fiction movie.

Willow’s POV The vineyard stretched on for acres, row after row of perfectly manicured vines. The grape season was over, so the vines didn’t bear any grapes, but it was still very beautiful and tranquil. The sun was high in the sky, and past the vineyard the waves of the Mediterranean rose and fell in white caps. A gentle breeze carried the scent of the salty water as Luigi and I walked, hand in hand, through the vineyard.

It had red and black streaks in it and she had a lip ring and a nose piercing. “We can’t be mates! Vampires and werewolves can’t mate!” she whispered. I raised an eyebrow at her, amused. “Why are you whispering?” “Someone might hear us,” she continued. “You’re in a house full of supernatural creatures with enhanced hearing, and you think whispering will help to not let them hear our conversation?” I chuckled. I internally smirked when I noticed the goosebumps on her skin from hearing me laugh. “It was worth a shot,” she shrugged. I was taken by the accent in her voice.

His voice was sharp and the words weighed heavily on me. Before I could answer, he turned toward the forest. “Come with me.” I followed him and we climbed the mountains, higher than we had ever climbed before. Beyond the familiar trails… Beyond the waterfalls… To a narrow cliff overlooking the entire valley. It was such a beautiful sight that I stopped in awe. “Wow! I didn’t know this place existed.” “Only few persons know about this place.” I looked below us, Whispering Haven looked impossibly small, hidden beneath towering silver trees, almost invisible. Darius pointed toward the surrounding mountains.

"Thane, Vestra, and four scouts. The rest stay here and prepare." The Whispering Pass was a narrow gorge that cut through a range of low, forested mountains east of Ironmaw territory. Its name, Thane informed them as they approached, came from the sound the wind made as it moved through the rock formations — a constant, mournful sigh that some said was the voices of ancient seers who had died protecting the enclave.

I said quickly, grabbing her arm. Something moved. The surface rippled. A sleek tendril rose from the water, tasting the air. Then another. And another. Long. Wet. Coiling like a snake with no bones. A low moan echoed from deep below, rattling the ground. Bainer stumbled back. "What the hell is that?" My stomach twisted. "A still lake . . . and twirling vines," I whispered. I recognized this from the journals. “Don’t tell me . . .” The words barely left my mouth.