The Beginning

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TW WARNING:
Slight mentions of death. Nothing to extreme though

Addison Vega had a talent. Every kid had a talent these days.

Addison Vega was an agent. All kids were agents now.

Addison Vega had seen a lot of death. All kids were used to seeing death.

Addison Vega had the touch. Tons of kids had the touch.

Addison Vega was scared. Majority of kids were
scared.

Addison Vega could hear whispers of the dead. So could listeners.

But Addison Vega wasn't a listener. No her listening skills were as good as the elderly's hearing. Yet all her life she had been surrounded by the whispers of the dead, and no one knew why.

Seeing kids become agents nowadays was nothing new nowadays. They were the only ones who could fix this world. The only ones able to see these visitors, fight them off.
The were gifted with three talents: Sight, Touch and Listening. Despite teens possessing all three talents, most only had one strong and valuable talents. Some had toned two of their talents but one was always stronger.

For instance listeners often had mediocre touch. They merged together but listening would always be their strong suit. The touch was just a side affect of their listening. And often their sight was less than average. They could see death glows yes but not nearly as good and clear as those whose strength lies within their sight. And of course this same logic when for the rest of the talents. It was just the way of the new world.

10 was the legal age to start training. 13 was the legal age to become an agent. The law stated so. It was when they could handle what was going to be thrown at them. It was a responsible age, agreed on by all. But then why had Addison began training at 7.

At the age of 7, James Alastor had came knocking on the Vega's door. Young Addison had been sat in her room, headphones on full blast trying to drown out the whispers surrounding her. Alastor had pitched an idea to her parents. He would take her, train her without the law knowing. He would be their saving grace, take the troubled child out of their hands. Of course they agreed.

Her whole life she had been nothing but a waste of space. She had been given the smallest possible room out of all her siblings. It was hardly even a room and the only reason she had been given it was so her parents didn't have to her the full extent of her wails. Her parents treated her siblings to all nice things. Anything they wanted they got. They had given her a broken cassette player after she had begged for something to drown out the whispers but even then they thought it was some kind of crime to give that to her.

So why not give her away. What, no more crying child and a shed load of money for her each month, it's the deal of a lifetime!

Of course when she had heard the news she had cried. Begged her parents not to make her leave, cried, screamed. Anything she could. The man even looked vile so she could hardly imagine what that wicked grin could mean for her if she went with him.

She was slapped, hard may I add.
"Do not cry like that girl, how many times have I told you this!" Her mother had scolded. In her mother's eyes, crying was pointless. In her mother's eyes, she had nothing to cry over. Her mother couldn't hear the whispers so in her mind Addison was crying over nothing. "A little crybaby" in her mind.

"I'll train her to be the greatest agent you've ever seen" Alastor had promised them. "That incessant crying will be stamped out of her that is a guarantee" and well her parents had never been happier.

"Would she stay with you Mr Alastor?" Her father questioned.
"Of course, well only if that's alright. I believe she would benefit from being surrounded in a professional environment"
Her parents had never smiled more.
"What about that music she's so attached to? Pain in the ass to buy her the music" ha her mother said it like they actually bought her tapes in the last year.
"I'd buy them for her Mrs Vega. Only until those whispers don't bother her of course"
Her parents couldn't grin more even is they had been paid to.

WHISPERS || Anthony Lockwood Where stories live. Discover now