Whispers Of Death Novels & Stories

Branches scratched against my arms as I moved deeper into the woods, but the footsteps behind me only became louder. Then another voice echoed behind me. “Well… what do we have here?” My heart dropped instantly. Just like that, I was alone in the hands of death.

“You’re killing me in that dress,” he murmured, voice low enough that only I could hear over the string quartet and the polite laughter of Manhattan’s elite. “I can see your nipples through the silk. Hard little peaks begging for my mouth.” Heat flooded my core, and I pressed my thighs together, feeling the slickness already gathering. “Then stop staring and do something about it,” I whispered back, my voice husky. His hand brushed my lower back, fingers dipping just below the fabric to graze the dimples above my ass. “Patience, baby. The night’s young.”

*** Command. *** Authority. *** A mirror. *** Her power stirred in response. *** Morrígan’s presence surged beneath her skin. *** *Answer.* *** The whisper was clearer now. Stronger. *** Raven’s hand twitched. *** She could feel the dead beneath this ground. Old bones. Old war. Waiting. *** *End it.* *** The pull sharpened. *** Faster. Cleaner. Absolute. *** Raise them. Crush them. Win. *** Her breath slowed.

It was he who said one thing and did another. It was he who stopped cherishing her. Since that was the case, she decided to take back everything—her heart, her trust, her love… And her body. She had given a piece of her clothing to Fauxlife Solutions, the agency that was faking her death. She had torn it up, then bit her finger and smeared the blood on it. A week later, he would receive that bloody shirt. And she? She would be gone from his life forever. "Bella, why aren't you saying anything?"

The silence is colder than the grave. --- **The Crow’s Whisper** That night, the scar burns like a brand. I follow the crow’s shadow through the skeletal forest, my breath fogging in the air. It leads me to the Tomb of Whispers, its entrance cracked open like a wound. *“You feel it, don’t you?”* the Shadow’s voice slithers through my mind. *“The prison weakens.”* The crow perches on the tomb’s threshold, its eye glowing brighter. “What do you want?” I demand.

I just never imagined the first time I got to see it, it would be with me. "Take off your shirt," Hope whispered, as she removed hers.

One by one, the Alphas spoke. Some hadn’t seen anything firsthand but mentioned strange weather patterns, unexplained deaths, or warriors gone missing. Others had seen more—shadows in the trees, heat without fire, howls that didn’t belong to any known species. One Alpha from the east said a pup had screamed through three nights of nightmares—red skies and claws like spears. Another shared that two of his warriors came back from patrol broken, whispering about “eyes in the dark.” It wasn’t just Foraker. It was everywhere.

It was beautiful, terrifying, and utterly alien. "The Whispering Gate," Misha breathed, her voice filled with awe and trepidation. She still held my hand, her grip now a little shaky. Her other hand rested protectively on her stomach. The air thrummed with a low, insidious murmur. A chorus of voices, barely audible, yet everywhere. Promises of forgotten power. Echoes of lost loved ones. Whispers of regrets, of roads not taken. It was a symphony of despair, intricately woven with tantalizing temptations.

Death nodded slightly. The goddess looked confused. “Hear what?” I focused. The whisper trembled through the silence. Not fear. Not demand. Not worship. A call. Soft. Fragile. Not to a god. To me. “Come back.” My breath caught. It was not asking for salvation. Not for protection. Not for power. Just return. Tears slid down my face. “One voice,” I whispered. Death’s gaze sharpened. “Yes.” “Why only one?” “Because the others shifted.”

The sky was red with toxic mist, and the ground pulsed like living flesh. "The second is The Whispering Void. A psychological world. It attacks your mind directly, bypassing physical defenses entirely. It shows you your fears, your failures, your worst possible futures, and it makes them feel absolutely real. You'll experience every trauma you've ever suppressed, every nightmare you've tried to forget, every anxiety amplified to unbearable levels. Deadies have been known to go completely, irreversibly insane within minutes of entering. You'll need to cross it in four hours while maintaining your sanity and sense of direction in absolute darkness."