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THE WHISPERERS

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Synopsis
Somewhere between silence and madness, there are voices not everyone can hear... But if you do, you’ll never be the same. A series of psychological and metaphysical tales capturing the precise moment of fracture-when the whisper slips inside, and everything familiar begins to unravel. Are they just hallucinations? Or is someone truly speaking? And why did they choose you to listen?
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Chapter 1 - A Voice That Isn’t Yours

I'm not insane.

Or at least, I wasn't.

The voice started a week ago.

Warm.

Familiar.

It knew my name.

Not in my head - no.

In my ear.

Like someone was standing just behind me, whispering directly into my skin.

It began simply, almost politely.

Counting.

That's it.

Just counting down from random numbers.

"Ninety-nine… ninety-eight… ninety-seven…"

When it hit zero, it paused.

Silence.

A breath.

Then it started again - but from a lower number.

I ignored it at first.

We all hear things sometimes, right?

The brain plays tricks.

Stress. Sleep. Who knows.

But it got… serious.

 

Day Four.

It whispered "Two" while I was driving over the bridge.

Suddenly, I had the most rational urge to jump.

Not out of sadness.

Not despair.

It was logical, like needing water when you're thirsty.

I slammed the brakes instead.

Stopped the car.

And the voice whispered, calm as ever:

"Congratulations. You passed the first test."

 

Day Five.

The instructions started.

"Turn left at the alley."

"The man behind you on the train is lying. Stare until he breaks."

"Don't open that door."

"Switch off your phone. Now."

And me?

I obeyed.

Because I was scared of what would happen if I didn't.

 

Day Seven.

The voice said:

"What you're about to see… isn't meant for normal people."

Two minutes later, the power went out.

The city froze.

No dogs barking.

No car horns.

No footsteps.

Time itself… halted.

Everyone but me - paralyzed.

And then I saw them.

Yes, them.

They weren't human.

Not exactly.

But not monsters either.

They wore our faces.

Walked like us.

Laughed like us.

But something in their eyes was watching - not living.

They live among us.

And they observe.

Waiting to see who can hear the voice.

Because not everyone hears it.

Those who do…

change.

 

I'm writing this in a notebook that isn't mine.

The hand moving isn't fully mine either.

But you need to know.

Because when you start hearing the countdown,

don't think you're crazy.

You're not.

You're just…

unmasked.

And for the first time,

your inner voice…

won't be yours.