POV: You Heard the Whispers, Now They Won’t Stop 💀 (Horror Story)
The Bastion was dying. The air was thick with damp, the flickering bulbs barely keeping the dark at bay. Rations had been cut again, and the people were afraid — not just of hunger, but of something worse. Something they couldn’t name.
Theo Marsh was the first to hear them.
It started as a faint murmur in the dead of night, a whisper curling through the tunnels like smoke. At first, he thought it was exhaustion, the hunger playing tricks on his mind. But the whispers didn’t stop. They grew louder. Clearer.
Come closer, Theo.
They knew his name.
Mira Calder found him one night, standing at the far end of the tunnels, his fingers tracing the old carvings on the stone walls. “Theo,” she whispered, pulling him back. “Don’t listen. Whatever’s whispering to you — it’s not human.”
But the carvings pulsed beneath his touch, ancient symbols shifting in the dim light, almost breathing. A memory surfaced — something he had read in an old journal, buried deep in the Bastion’s archives.
The Abyss is not empty.
And yet, when Theo closed his eyes, the whispers felt familiar, like a voice he had always known but couldn’t place.
Silas Kane, the Bastion’s leader, had no patience for ghosts. “Stay out of the lower tunnels,” he barked when Mira told him about Theo. “We have real problems to deal with.”
But he wasn’t there the night Theo followed the whispers.
He moved through the tunnels alone, past the flickering bulbs and the damp stone walls, drawn forward by a voice that slipped beneath his skin. The air grew colder. The light from the Bastion faded behind him, swallowed by a creeping void.
He reached the edge of the Abyssal Chasm.
The ground trembled beneath his feet. The darkness stretched wide, too vast, too deep. His breath misted in the frigid air as the whisper curled around him.
Jump.
Theo swayed forward, his heart hammering. He could see something now — something moving in the depths, its form shifting, unfolding. It wasn’t just in the Abyss.
It was the Abyss.
A hand grabbed his shoulder.
Theo gasped, his body jerking back as Silas’s grip tightened. His face was hard, eyes dark with something close to fear. “You don’t listen to the dark, Theo.” His voice was low, rough. “It doesn’t care about you.”
The Chasm moved.
A ripple of shadow twisted at the edge, tendrils stretching toward them, something vast reaching. The whisper turned into a low, gurgling laugh.
Silas didn’t hesitate. He yanked Theo back, dragging him away from the abyss, his breath ragged.
The whispers screamed.
The tunnel lights flickered violently as they ran, shadows stretching unnaturally long. The stone groaned beneath them. The Bastion was shaking.
They barely made it back before the ceiling behind them collapsed.
For a long moment, no one spoke. The others had gathered, their faces pale with confusion and fear. The dust settled in the silence.
Then Theo whispered, barely more than breath: “It let us go.”
Silas turned to him sharply. “What?”
Theo looked back at the sealed tunnel, where the whispers had fallen silent. But the weight of the dark still pressed against his mind.
“It wasn’t calling me,” he murmured, dread coiling tight in his chest.
“It was waiting for me.”
This short story was taken from Horror Books — immerse yourself in terrifying tales that will keep you up at night. Download the app now: https://horrorstories.app/
