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The Whispering Void
An unreleased short story from the book:
End of Days: Earth Under Alien Siege
It started with a sound—a whisper, soft and eerie, like a sigh carried on the wind. At first, the people of the city dismissed it as nothing more than an illusion, a trick of the mind. But it didn’t take long for the whispers to grow louder, seeping into the very fabric of their thoughts, twisting and corrupting their minds.
At first, the aliens’ presence was imperceptible—just the distant hum of their ships descending from the sky. The world had been plunged into chaos, as news outlets went silent, and electricity flickered in and out. But the whispers remained. They snaked their way into every corner of the city, inside every home, every street, until no one was untouched.
The whispers did not speak in words; they were something much darker, much more insidious. They made people feel as though their very thoughts were no longer their own. They murmured promises of survival, whispered lies about the world’s destruction, and painted haunting images of a desolate earth devoid of any hope. “You are the last,†they said. “Only you remain.â€
The survivors, those few who had managed to avoid the alien ships that had ravaged the city, began to question the reality of what they saw. Were they truly the last of humanity? How could the world be gone, when all they had were memories of a time before the sky turned dark and the shadows whispered?
And then the confusion set in.
Sarah had been one of the first to hear the whispers. It was late in the night when she first noticed the eerie sounds—almost imperceptible at first, like a rustle in the wind. But as the hours passed, they grew louder, clearer. They filled her mind with thoughts of loneliness, of isolation, and of the certainty that she was the only one left.
She wandered the streets, lost in the haze of her own fractured thoughts. Her neighbors had disappeared. The familiar faces she once knew had faded into the background of the city, replaced by those who walked with an air of confusion and dread. She saw people huddled together, crying, staring blankly at the ruins of their homes. She heard the whispers again, urging her to take action—to protect what was left, to find the last of her kind.
The voices swirled in her head like a storm. “They are all gone,” they said. “Only you remain. You must survive. They are coming for you.”
But who were “they”? And why was Sarah still here, wandering the desolate streets, unsure of who or what was real? What happened to the others?
As the days went on, Sarah’s sanity began to slip. The whispers seemed to shape her thoughts, twist her memories. In moments of clarity, she would try to reach out, to find others, but every face she saw was a stranger’s—empty, blank, as if they too had been robbed of their humanity. And still, the whispers whispered. “Only you remain.”
It wasn’t long before Sarah encountered others who shared the same paranoia, the same sense of isolation. But these people were different. The whispers had already worked their way into their minds, turning them into something unrecognizable. There was no trust, only suspicion. They all believed they were the last, and in their minds, that meant anyone who wasn’t them was a threat.
As the voices in her head grew louder, Sarah’s fears turned to anger. Why hadn’t anyone else survived? Why was she chosen to endure this nightmare? And what if there were others out there, waiting, hiding? The whispers pushed her further, urging her to protect herself, to take action.
“You are the last of us,†they said. “You must strike first. They will come for you.â€
The city became a battleground, with groups of survivors turning on each other, driven by the endless whispers. They fought with desperation, tearing at one another in frenzied panic, convinced that they were fighting for their survival. No one knew who was truly human anymore, and as the bodies piled up, the whispers only grew louder, more insistent.
Sarah found herself in the center of it all—lost, broken, and trembling. She had watched as people she once knew turned into violent, mindless versions of themselves. Friends became enemies. Neighbors became monsters.
The alien invaders remained hidden, but they were always watching. The whispers were their weapon. They manipulated the survivors, playing on their fears, feeding off their desperation. The invaders did not need to be seen. The chaos they created was more than enough to ensure their dominance.
Sarah had once believed in the power of human connection, in the strength that came from unity. But now, she stood alone in the middle of the shattered city, surrounded by the remnants of the people she had known. They were gone, not physically, but mentally. They were pawns in a game they never even realized they were playing.
The whispers had succeeded in their task. They had broken humanity, leaving only hollow shells behind. No one was left who was untouched by the madness, by the alien forces that had used them as instruments of their destruction.
And Sarah, the last survivor, had no idea if she would ever escape this endless spiral of horror.
But in the distance, she heard a new sound, a distant hum. The ships were coming again. The voices in her head whispered with glee.
“The end is near,” they said. “The last will be taken.”
If you enjoyed this short story you will probably like our latest release available now:
End of Days: Earth Under Alien Siege
$3.99
Prepare yourself for a gripping journey into the darkest corners of the unknown with End of Days: Earth Under Alien Siege. In this chilling collection of short stories, humanity faces the terrifying and relentless advance of extraterrestrial forces.
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