WHISPERER

“Why stop now?”

Jade’s voice cut through the dark as she peered at Luke, her breath hot and impatient against his skin. Disappointment carved lines across her face. Her thighs locked around him, urging him to continue, but he had gone still above her, chest heaving.

Luke’s breath came in ragged bursts, sweat dripping from his temples and trailing down the ridges of his neck to his chest. His eyes darted across the dim room, searching. “I heard something,” he managed, voice tight, almost strangled. “I’m not sure we’re alone.”

“I heard nothing,” Jade interjected sharply. She wrapped her arms around his waist and pulled him closer, her nails biting into his skin. The rose-scented candle flickered faintly at the edge of the bed, throwing trembling shadows across the walls. The air was heavy with wax, sweat, and the musk of their bodies.

She ground her hips upward, desperate. “Don’t stop, Luke. Not now. Not when you’re hitting me right there.”

He hesitated, caught between her demand and the prickling fear crawling across his scalp. His heart thundered. He could still feel that sound—or was it a voice?—lurking in the room’s stillness.

But Jade tightened her hold, her legs locked around him like chains. “Come on, Luke. Quit acting like a child.”

Her words stung him back into the moment. He dropped his gaze, and his eyes narrowed on her breasts rising with each impatient breath. A smile tugged at the corner of his lips. “Your beauty is beyond rejection,” he murmured, fingers trailing along her thighs. He caressed her skin slowly, savoring the warmth beneath his palms.

Jade answered with a sly, flirtatious smile. She pressed his hips, urging him back inside her.

They had no time to waste. The school’s rules were merciless: no male students in the female dorms. But they had arrived a day early for the new semester, and for one night the building was nearly empty. By morning, Jade’s roommate would return and privacy would vanish. This was their stolen chance.

Her mind flashed back to high school, to prom night—the night she gave him her virginity, the night she made him hers. Since then, she couldn’t let him go. The way he moved inside her, the way he made her body surrender, was something no other girl would ever taste in her boyfriend.

She spread herself wide, eyes glittering as Luke slid his hardness back into her. A gasp escaped her lips, trembling between a moan and a cry. Her mouth parted, her head tilting back against the pillow as her body welcomed him.

“Harder,” she whispered, then louder, desperate. “Hit me hard.”

The bed creaked under their rhythm, each thrust rattling its old wooden frame. Her fists clenched against the sheets, knuckles white. His hands wandered—rough, eager, squeezing her breasts like ripe fruit, coaxing from her another cascade of moans. She clawed at his back, her pleasure rising like a storm.

“I love you, Luke,” she groaned, her voice breaking with the force of it.

“I love—”

Luke froze. The words strangled in his throat.

A whisper hissed against his ear, so close it chilled his blood: You will die.

He jerked upright, breath caught, eyes wide. The hair on his arms bristled, his skin clammy with fear. His gaze tore around the room, but the candlelight only flickered against empty corners.

“What’s the matter?” Jade frowned, confusion hardening into irritation. “Don’t tell me I risked expulsion for unsatisfied sex.”

Her voice quivered, but Luke barely heard her. “Did you not hear that?” His tone was fractured, full of doubt and dread. “I feel… strange.”

“Strange?” She sat up slightly, eyes narrowing. “Are you saying something’s wrong with me—or with having fun with my boyfriend?”

“No!” His reply was sharp, desperate. “Something’s not right. Not with you, not with—”

The whisper came again, harsher this time, venom curling through the syllables: You will die.

Luke’s blood iced. He spun, eyes cutting through the room, seeking the source. Nothing. Just Jade, the bed, the candle. And yet…

Invisible fingers traced his spine. He shuddered violently. “Who are you?” His voice cracked. “Show yourself!”

Jade’s irritation deepened into disbelief. She folded her arms, shaking her head. “Are you sick in the head? Luke, there’s no one here but us.”

But he could feel it—someone, something, was with them.

Then it touched him. A warmth, alien and invasive, enveloped his manhood. His eyes dropped in horror. Jade wasn’t touching him—she was too far away—yet his body swelled with unwanted arousal, harder than before.

Jade’s anger melted into relief. “You’re still growing,” she said, almost laughing. “We can continue.”

“No!” he cried, stumbling back from the bed, trembling. “I’m losing my mind!”

The unseen hand gripped harder, caressing, stroking. His scrotum tingled under phantom fingers. Luke doubled over, whimpering.

Jade scrambled off the bed, fear creeping into her voice. “Babe, come back. You’re scaring me.” She reached for him, but before she could touch him—

“He’s no longer your babe!”

The voice was female this time—loud, vicious. Wind roared through the open window, extinguishing the candle. The room plunged into choking blackness.

Jade’s heart lurched into her throat. She screamed as unseen hands seized her, smashing her head against the wall with sickening force.

“Jade!” Luke cried, panic seizing him. “Are you alright?”

“She can’t answer you,” the whisper came again, crawling across his ear.

Darkness pressed in. Luke stumbled, blind, pleading. “Please, don’t harm us! Whoever you are—please!” His voice cracked, raw with terror.

The silence that followed was worse than any sound.

Then—footsteps. Slow, deliberate, echoing from the hallway outside. Relief surged through Luke’s chest. “Help!” he shouted, pounding the air. “Help me! Somebody!”

A faint light bobbed beyond the door. His heart leapt. The shadow of a figure stretched long across the floor.

The doorknob rattled, metal clinking in the stillness. Luke dashed for it, naked, desperate.

The door creaked open. His relief shattered.

No one stood there. Only an old lantern, its flame steady, sat alone on the threshold.

“No!” he howled. “Come back!”

He lurched forward, but before he could reach it, the door slammed shut.

Laughter erupted around him—shrill, devilish giggles swelling into wild, manic chuckles. The windows banged, the wind howled, and the room itself seemed to tilt and spin.

The whisper came again, wrapping around his soul like chains: I told you—you will die.

The laughter grew, and the walls themselves seemed to breathe with it. Luke staggered, choking on terror as the world rotated beneath his feet. His scream tore into the darkness, swallowed whole.