This short story was also based off of a dream I had. I wrote this in December of last year, and recently revised it, so hopefully it flows better with less grammar and spelling errors. Comments and friendly criticism are welcome! Enjoy!
The Whisperers
No one knows their true origin, or even when they first appeared. Theyâd been around so long that to even the elderly, it seemed as if the beasts had roamed their lands since the beginning of time. Some say that they were the mutated forms of humans that had been exposed to radioactive materials which altered their appearance and state of mind, but they were so monstrous that this idea was thrown out. All anyone ever knew about them was that they came with the fog.
Shaking the newspaper free of wrinkles, the middle aged man held the thin, grey, inked paper in front of him, his dull brown eyes scanning over the words rapidly. He sat alone in an empty diner. All the chairs were flipped upside down onto the tables making it look like metal pikes in some kind of barricade. The room was chilled, the heat not working for some time, but the temperature didnât seem to bother the man, his concentration focused on the contents of the business section.
His name was James T. White, and he in fact owned the place. Though, he always pictured himself as a businessman working in a well off city companyâhe wouldnât be caught dead working in a small town diner. He came here in the mornings before he would disappear and âworkâ though the townâs inhabitants hadnât quite figured out what his occupation really was. Being thirty-six and living alone, and being especially shrewd and sometimes even cruel left the civilians making up plenty of stories about his personal life.
The lighting in the small place was poor, a heavy fog already settling in the townâs limits, blocking out anything a few feet away from sight. It was an eerie form of fog, its depths never seeming to end, the kind of blanket that swallowed any kind of sound. Not even the sun tried to break past its cold endless barricade.
Getting slightly annoyed, James moved, aiming the newspaper in the direction the faint light the outdoors was giving. In doing so a slip of the paper fell to the floor, landing conveniently under the table. Not thinking to bother with it at first, the man quickly realized that it was the section with the stock market. Grumbling under his breath, he pushed the steel chair back, and a terrible screeching noise shattered the silence around him, almost echoing a few moments longer than normal. Without noticing, the middle-aged man leaned down, being careful to not bang his head on the edge of the thick diner table. When he snatched the paper, he didnât seem to notice the strange shadows that swarmed around the window just inches away from him. Returning to his original position, he shook the thin pages open once more and let his dark eyes refocus on its contents. It wasnât until he heard faint voices that he realized his mistake. Slowly, his hands lowered the paper to rest on the table, his face now pale, beads of sweat forming on his brow. His black eyes moved shakily towards the glass panel next to him. He didnât even have time to scream before the window shattered from the impact of what had been lurking outside.
She had been driving her jeep down a side street when she noticed it coming. Looking in her rear view mirrors, the ominous dark grey mist swept over the rolling hills like a tidal wave, swallowing anything and everything in its path. Without hesitating, she kicked the car into high gear and sped down the road, trying her best to get to safety before it hit. But she had no such luck; the fog was almost upon her now. Giving up the race in the jeep, she was about to jump out when her eyes were caught on the scene of a young child playing. He hadnât seemed to notice the terror that was about to be unleashed.
Gina grabbed the kid and ran. She knew what lay in wait outside in the eerie fog, and there was no way she was going to be stuck waiting for them with no protection. The child was no more than eight years old, and she didnât really have any idea who it was, but her maternal instinct was telling her that she couldnât let him out there alone to get eaten.
Forcing her way into a random house, she went straight for what she prayed was the kitchen. From the looks of it, the home had been abandoned for some time, a heavy layer of dust having settled on everything inside. The young boy said nothing, his large green eyes watching the older woman without emotion. Opening the drawers, Gina scoured for anything that could hold up as a weapon. She knew that it wouldnât amount to much, but if she could fend off even one of them long enough for the two of them to get away or find somewhere to hide. Seeing the sleek metal edge of a chopping knife, she grabbed it and looked around. Somewhere to hideâ¦please let there be somewhere to hide..!
Noticing a door off on one side of the room, she prayed that it was a pantry or something to take cover in, and as they entered, her prayers were answered. Fortunately the room was considerably larger than a normal pantry; there were various pieces of kitchen furniture stored there probably for extra guests. Breaking away from trying to figure out what it was for, she placed the kid in the far corner while she moved the wood pieces as quietly as she could in front of the door. There was probably only another minute left before they entered the house and Gina wanted to barricade their entry as much as possible. Finishing up, she moved to hold onto the wide eyed young boy, his face betraying the immense fear he felt. He knew what was coming, and the thought that his life might be cut short made her want to scream.
An eerie silence seemed to settle in the room and even outside in the streets covered with the thick fog. Theyâre coming⦠Her arms tightened protectively around the child as the distant cries of the creatures seemed to reverberate off the walls around them. The boy began whimpering, his face buried in her shoulder as she tried her best to keep calm. Gina knew that once they made that cry, there was only seconds before they would surge forward and invade the town once more.
Gina suddenly heard them outside, the loud eerie wheezing noise of their breathing filling her ears. Seconds passed by and the noise seemed to grow distant but that was because she knew theyâd caught her scent. Pulling the child even closer, though she knew it could be painful, her terrified eyes were locked onto the door leading into the kitchen. Another minute passed by and she suddenly heard the scraping of their claws on the hardwood floor. The boy had ceased whimpering, he knew better than to make any noise to draw attention to them.
Knowing that they were in the kitchen now, the faint noise of their breathing sounded like people were standing right outside whispering, her eyes moved to the floor where there was a small space between the door and the wooden planks below. Seeing the movement of shadows outside, she bit her tongue in order not to scream when disfigured fingers stuck themselves inside the room. She was thankful that the child had his eyes looking away, as the grotesque nails began scraping against the bottom of the wooden door leaving jagged marks in the once flawless surface. Gina held her breath for fear of them hearing it, and felt her lungs on the urge of exploding, the pounding of her heart in her ears almost drowned out any other noise when the claws retracted and the whispering fading away.
Exhaling, she felt her heart slow down a little, and went to scoot back a little more for hopes of getting even a few more inches away from them. Suddenly the loud clanging of cans shattered the silence. Gina felt the bile rising in her throat as she quickly looked behind her. She knocked over some cans that had been sitting on the floor. Horrified, her large eyes locked onto the door again.
Seconds went by and the whispers returned. They were back, and they were coming for her.
The Whisperers
No one knows their true origin, or even when they first appeared. Theyâd been around so long that to even the elderly, it seemed as if the beasts had roamed their lands since the beginning of time. Some say that they were the mutated forms of humans that had been exposed to radioactive materials which altered their appearance and state of mind, but they were so monstrous that this idea was thrown out. All anyone ever knew about them was that they came with the fog.
Shaking the newspaper free of wrinkles, the middle aged man held the thin, grey, inked paper in front of him, his dull brown eyes scanning over the words rapidly. He sat alone in an empty diner. All the chairs were flipped upside down onto the tables making it look like metal pikes in some kind of barricade. The room was chilled, the heat not working for some time, but the temperature didnât seem to bother the man, his concentration focused on the contents of the business section.
His name was James T. White, and he in fact owned the place. Though, he always pictured himself as a businessman working in a well off city companyâhe wouldnât be caught dead working in a small town diner. He came here in the mornings before he would disappear and âworkâ though the townâs inhabitants hadnât quite figured out what his occupation really was. Being thirty-six and living alone, and being especially shrewd and sometimes even cruel left the civilians making up plenty of stories about his personal life.
The lighting in the small place was poor, a heavy fog already settling in the townâs limits, blocking out anything a few feet away from sight. It was an eerie form of fog, its depths never seeming to end, the kind of blanket that swallowed any kind of sound. Not even the sun tried to break past its cold endless barricade.
Getting slightly annoyed, James moved, aiming the newspaper in the direction the faint light the outdoors was giving. In doing so a slip of the paper fell to the floor, landing conveniently under the table. Not thinking to bother with it at first, the man quickly realized that it was the section with the stock market. Grumbling under his breath, he pushed the steel chair back, and a terrible screeching noise shattered the silence around him, almost echoing a few moments longer than normal. Without noticing, the middle-aged man leaned down, being careful to not bang his head on the edge of the thick diner table. When he snatched the paper, he didnât seem to notice the strange shadows that swarmed around the window just inches away from him. Returning to his original position, he shook the thin pages open once more and let his dark eyes refocus on its contents. It wasnât until he heard faint voices that he realized his mistake. Slowly, his hands lowered the paper to rest on the table, his face now pale, beads of sweat forming on his brow. His black eyes moved shakily towards the glass panel next to him. He didnât even have time to scream before the window shattered from the impact of what had been lurking outside.
She had been driving her jeep down a side street when she noticed it coming. Looking in her rear view mirrors, the ominous dark grey mist swept over the rolling hills like a tidal wave, swallowing anything and everything in its path. Without hesitating, she kicked the car into high gear and sped down the road, trying her best to get to safety before it hit. But she had no such luck; the fog was almost upon her now. Giving up the race in the jeep, she was about to jump out when her eyes were caught on the scene of a young child playing. He hadnât seemed to notice the terror that was about to be unleashed.
Gina grabbed the kid and ran. She knew what lay in wait outside in the eerie fog, and there was no way she was going to be stuck waiting for them with no protection. The child was no more than eight years old, and she didnât really have any idea who it was, but her maternal instinct was telling her that she couldnât let him out there alone to get eaten.
Forcing her way into a random house, she went straight for what she prayed was the kitchen. From the looks of it, the home had been abandoned for some time, a heavy layer of dust having settled on everything inside. The young boy said nothing, his large green eyes watching the older woman without emotion. Opening the drawers, Gina scoured for anything that could hold up as a weapon. She knew that it wouldnât amount to much, but if she could fend off even one of them long enough for the two of them to get away or find somewhere to hide. Seeing the sleek metal edge of a chopping knife, she grabbed it and looked around. Somewhere to hideâ¦please let there be somewhere to hide..!
Noticing a door off on one side of the room, she prayed that it was a pantry or something to take cover in, and as they entered, her prayers were answered. Fortunately the room was considerably larger than a normal pantry; there were various pieces of kitchen furniture stored there probably for extra guests. Breaking away from trying to figure out what it was for, she placed the kid in the far corner while she moved the wood pieces as quietly as she could in front of the door. There was probably only another minute left before they entered the house and Gina wanted to barricade their entry as much as possible. Finishing up, she moved to hold onto the wide eyed young boy, his face betraying the immense fear he felt. He knew what was coming, and the thought that his life might be cut short made her want to scream.
An eerie silence seemed to settle in the room and even outside in the streets covered with the thick fog. Theyâre coming⦠Her arms tightened protectively around the child as the distant cries of the creatures seemed to reverberate off the walls around them. The boy began whimpering, his face buried in her shoulder as she tried her best to keep calm. Gina knew that once they made that cry, there was only seconds before they would surge forward and invade the town once more.
Gina suddenly heard them outside, the loud eerie wheezing noise of their breathing filling her ears. Seconds passed by and the noise seemed to grow distant but that was because she knew theyâd caught her scent. Pulling the child even closer, though she knew it could be painful, her terrified eyes were locked onto the door leading into the kitchen. Another minute passed by and she suddenly heard the scraping of their claws on the hardwood floor. The boy had ceased whimpering, he knew better than to make any noise to draw attention to them.
Knowing that they were in the kitchen now, the faint noise of their breathing sounded like people were standing right outside whispering, her eyes moved to the floor where there was a small space between the door and the wooden planks below. Seeing the movement of shadows outside, she bit her tongue in order not to scream when disfigured fingers stuck themselves inside the room. She was thankful that the child had his eyes looking away, as the grotesque nails began scraping against the bottom of the wooden door leaving jagged marks in the once flawless surface. Gina held her breath for fear of them hearing it, and felt her lungs on the urge of exploding, the pounding of her heart in her ears almost drowned out any other noise when the claws retracted and the whispering fading away.
Exhaling, she felt her heart slow down a little, and went to scoot back a little more for hopes of getting even a few more inches away from them. Suddenly the loud clanging of cans shattered the silence. Gina felt the bile rising in her throat as she quickly looked behind her. She knocked over some cans that had been sitting on the floor. Horrified, her large eyes locked onto the door again.
Seconds went by and the whispers returned. They were back, and they were coming for her.
