Whispers Of Death Novels & Stories

I stepped back as the door turned red. Moving slowly through the hall, step, step, step, step. The ticking started once more. I needed to find my escape. I ran through a door to the right to find myself falling into a field of grass. Whispers of voices being carried with the wind. So many voices all at once, none were discernible. Shadows began appearing along the horizon, and the whispers increased.

She didn’t need to. She breathed. And three more witches died on the spot—hearts frozen solid, their eyes exploding into shards of prophecy. The snow outside began to fall upward. Beasts in the woods howled and dropped dead mid-run. The rogues outside the gate went silent, then began to scream in unison. The frost spread like spilled ink. And then— She looked at me. Truly looked. A voice—ancient, echoing, and made of whispers you can only hear when you’re about to die—pierced my soul.

I grabbed a red marker and slashed a thick, furious X through his face. That made four. Four dead. Four silences. Still no answers. Two left. My eyes narrowed at the remaining photos—Mr. Rogers and the last unknown figure whose name I was still chasing. I snatched up my phone and dialed. “Find Mr. Rogers’ address for me,” I said coldly. “Yes, sir,” came the immediate reply. I ended the call and tossed the phone onto the bed, heading into the bathroom. The blood on my hands might wash away…

he whispered to himself. For a brief moment, silence reigned. Then the voice whispered again, “Vincent…” The darkness shook as chains lashed out from thin air, striking the ground around him and cracking stone beneath with their force. The ghost’s whisper curled around him like a predator stalking its prey. “You don’t hear her voice; you hear mine.” “No,” Vincent responded as he clenched his claws tight and crouched low to the ground. “That was hers…I would recognize it even in death.”

“Yes.” But her hands didn’t move. Instead, she leaned her head on his shoulder, letting silence settle between them. After a long while, she whispered, “Why me?” He didn’t have an answer. But deep down, he knew: Because you survived. And they couldn’t let that go. --- The snow began to fall again. But this time, it felt different. Not a cage. A cover. And beneath it, two souls waited. For morning. For justice. For the truth to finally rise.

Esther's voice chirps in. "The world of illusions reapers, the great world of fantasy, and the canyon of death. El mundo de la ilusión de los recuentos, el gran mundo del espejo y el cañón de la muerte. Surge y sostuvo mis llamadas. " I heard the familiar voice chanting in an unknown language. "You are doomed, Rey Reed Smith." General Zod's voice concluded, followed by a great earthquake which shook the whole building to its hinges. Gradually, the room started shifting into another place.

I whispered. c.m. louden

"He’s right, you know." Click. The line went dead. And for the first time in a long time—Elara Thornfield felt the first whispers of fear.

Everyone has their own inside demons, but his is just shrouded. "Why the light-heading thoughts my love!" Came the whispering sound of erosion that slumbered into his ears. He knew who it was but paid no attention to it requests "You know I can help you William, you just have to abide to my will." The whispering resonated again and this time, William closed his eyes in frustration. "What did you want, Death?" He asked mildly. The room was empty but a shadowy figure roamed the area, unseen to normal eyes, not even to William but he could hear her vividly. The figure looks like the movement of dust, wind, light, practically indescribable.

It was the kind of smile that should never exist on a human face. She leaned in—too close—and whispered something I didn’t even realise I understood until the chill ran straight through my spine. “Death,” she breathed, her voice dry and ragged. “It’s already watching you.”