Page 104 of When Death Whispers

Jenna is mumbling now—shaking her head, eyes locked on Donovan’s ruined chest. “No, no, no… this isn’t real. He’s not—he had just walked in. He was just talking to me—he can’t?—”

Her voice cuts off. She jerks suddenly, her whole body snapping stiff like she’s been yanked upright by invisible wires.

My head whips toward her.

“No,” I whisper.

Something moves in the air. It’s not visible. Not fully. But I see it—feel it. A ripple, a distortion. Darkness curling tight around her throat.

“Jenna?” Hudson steps forward, already reaching out.

Snap.

The sound is small. Final.

Jenna’s body crumples like a marionette with its strings cut and she collapses to the ground. Lifeless. The blood from her nose and mouth spreads too fast, staining the floor, mixing with Donovan’s.

The silence afterward is worse.

Not stillness. Not shock. It’s the kind of silence that waits totake.

And I feel it.

A rush of ice-cold air tears through me like a ripple in the bond—sharp and suffocating. My monster is feeding. Devouring the fear. The death. The chaos.

A tremor rips up my spine.

And I scream.

It tears out of me—wordless, ragged.Too late.

First Donovan.

Now Jenna.

And next?—

Me.

The moment the air splits open, I feel it—like skin tearing from bone. My knees buckle. The floor tilts beneath me. The overhead lights flicker violently, buzzing and pulsing like they’re fighting to stay alive.

Once. Twice. Then they begin to fail.

One by one.

Pop.

Pop.

Pop.

Each one closer than the last.

The shadows crawl across the walls, elongating, twisting. Theyshouldn’tbe able to move like this. There’s still too much light.

But none of that matters anymore.

Because my monster isn’t just shadows.

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