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The Whisperer Whispers heard at night .
My great-grandfather was a weird man and I took after him, my father always said he saw him in me, the most obvious of these resemblances was the white patch of hair that I have at the very beginning of my hairline," your father was not happy to see that white hair when you were born, " my mother would always tell me." it reminded him of his grandfather... He always said his grandfather was weird in ways he could not explain, " she added. So when my father passed away, I went through his things and discovered what seemed like an attempt at an autobiography that had belonged to my great-grandfather. It read... Date 1899, month unspecified: I was already fast asleep when the rattles of guns and the whistling of bullets awoke me. My father ran into our hut but we were already awake all ten of us."Are you boys all here," he asked."Yes, Father," Akaze answered.Father wanted to talk when we heard footsteps running towards us, he grabbed his spear ready to strike the assailant down, and
The Whisperer A strange strange world
The first time I heard the voices it was in the middle of the night, I slept late because I was looking into Sarah's window across the street, Sarah...she was the girl next door, and yes I had a crush on her, how could I not, she was the most beautiful girl in school, and our parents used to be friends before life happened. My dad died and her parents got divorced, and then we grew up and I got nerdy and weird while she got hot and popular. But, even then, I couldn't have imagined what life had in store for me. At first, I ignored the voices, thinking that I heard them due to my imagination after reading my great-grandfather's writings, or because of sleep deprivation. I checked the time and it was three in the morning. "yes, it is sleep deprivation," I whispered as I laughed at my stupidity. I woke up the next day and everything seemed alright. The oppressive heat of late summer hung heavy in the air as I made my way through the halls of my high school. The familiar clang of locker
The Whisperer Bambam
The ritual had been completed, and the air seemed to hum with a strange energy. I felt a wave of exhaustion wash over me, the kind that seeps into your bones and settles in for a long stay. I dragged myself to bed, hoping that a good night's sleep would banish the weariness that clung to me like a heavy cloak.As I drifted off to sleep, I couldn't shake the feeling that something had changed. I had performed the ritual with the best of intentions, seeking guidance and clarity, but now a sense of unease crept over me. It was as if I had opened a door that I couldn't close, and I didn't know what awaited me on the other side.That night, I had the most vivid dream of my life. I woke up in my room, but something was off. The air felt different, lighter, and more... alive. I got out of bed and went to the window, and that's when I realized that I was outside. Confusion and fear began to grip me as I looked around, trying to make sense of my surroundings.And then I noticed something even
The Whisperer Sarah
After seeing Bambam in my room, I started to feel his presence in my head most of the time, the other whispers subsided but sometimes the return, a kind of war for dominance was being fought in my mind and it was literally hell. I didn't have a lot of friends, but the few I had, I started to avoid them. Especially Adam he was too clever and curious for his own good, and he would have seen through me and found out that something was wrong... And something was definitely wrong, a storm was building in me and I thought I was becoming what my dad was afraid of when he saw the white patch of hair in front of my head. As I walked through the front door, a week after seeing Bambam, the smell of tomato sauce and garlic filled the air. My mom was humming along to a song on the radio, and as I stepped into the kitchen, I saw Sarah by her side, chopping onions with a focused look on her face. I couldn't help but stare at her for a moment, her long brown hair falling over her shoulders and the
The Whisperer A struggling mind
The crackling of the bonfire filled the air, casting dancing shadows that played upon the faces of those gathered around it. The warmth of the flames enveloped us, as the night sky sparkled with stars, painting a picture-perfect backdrop to the scene. However, amidst the laughter and chatter, I saw fleeting movements in the darkness that others didn't seem to notice—unnatural beings, flickering in and out of sight like phantoms from some long-forgotten tale.I tried to dismiss the surreal sight, attributing it to the effects of the alcohol that swirled within me. I didn't want anything to spoil the evening, especially not in front of Sarah. She sat beside me, her eyes reflecting the dancing flames as she inquired about the source of my distraction. Her presence anchored me, and I quickly brushed off her concerns, offering a smile that didn't quite reach my eyes.As the night wore on, the figures in the shadows seemed to grow bolder. It was then that Bambam, an enigmatic figure who ofte
The Whisperer Guidance of a Dead Man
I arrived back at my small, quaint home, the events of the previous day still lingering in my mind. Bambam appeared in the room, immediately sensed my unease, and approached me with a furrowed brow."We need to talk," he said in a tone that brooked no argument. "There's something about those beings you've been seeing. They are known as the Shadow Walkers."My eyes widened in surprise. "Shadow Walkers? What are they?"Bambam hesitated for a moment as if searching for the right words. "They are ancient, supernatural entities that exist in the space between worlds. They are drawn to those with the gift of seeing beyond the veil, like Whisperers."My heart pounded in my chest as I tried to process this new information. "But why are they targeting me? What do they want?"Bambam's eyes darkened with concern. "They are attracted to Whisperers because they seek to control and manipulate them. If we don't find the Witch and stop her, she could penetrate your mind further, twisting and distorti
The Whisperer To My Wonderful Readers.
In a dance of words, the writer weaves,A tapestry of dreams and hopes, he leaves,For the readers to find and hold dear,In their hearts, where it's always near.They follow the lines with eager eyes,And delve into worlds of truth and lies,With every turn of phrase, they're led,By the writer's hand and the words he's spread.Together they journey, through joy and pain,Bound by the stories that will remain,In their minds and souls, forever intertwined,The writer and his readers, two hearts aligned.Thank you for reading! Your support means the world to me. Please subscribe and share your thoughts in the comments. Your feedback is invaluable and helps me improve. Let's make this journey together and create something beautiful. I appreciate each and every one of you. Much love!