Following the chilling success of their first collection, Lady Eckland, Glenn Riley, and new collaborator, Bella Darkwood return to guide you through the shadowy corridors of fear with their second compendium, *Whispers In The Dark 2*. These master...
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The cold had become a familiar comfort. Time had lost its meaning in the watery silence, and the metal carcass of the car was both my coffin and my sanctuary. I had long since ceased struggling against the weight of the water; the gentle swaying of our submerged haven had become a lullaby. My spectral form flickered, an echo of the vibrant young woman I once was.
Beside me, my sister's spirit stirred. Sarah had always been the more fiery one; even now, amidst the wreckage of our lives, an ember of resentment burned in her spectral eyes. It wasn't the way we'd been meant to die – a drunken driver, a missed curve, a desperate plunge into the unyielding depths. Twenty years stolen from us. We were remnants now, vestiges of our former selves tethered to a place of tragedy.
The quiet of our underwater tomb was shattered one evening by a cacophony of shrill laughter and splashes. Above us, a world we'd been exiled from thrummed with a life denied to us.
"Seriously, Jen? Out here? This is some top-notch creep-fest," a raspy voice complained.
"Relax, Melissa. Live a little," another voice, infused with the telltale slur of alcohol, retorted. "Everyone needs a good ghost story."
My spectral hands clenched as the voices multiplied. A group of women, emboldened by drink and youthful carelessness, were turning our place of rest into a playground. The water around us churned with their movements, the intrusion of the living an agonizing assault on our spectral senses.
Sarah's form pulsed with anger. "Like we aren't enough of a ghost story for them," she hissed, her spectral voice a mere whisper against the revelry.
Rage bubbled within me, mirroring her own. These women… they had no idea. No idea of the pain, the loss, the eternity trapped beneath the surface. They laughed over the very waters that had claimed us.
A beer bottle shattered against the roof of our car, and we recoiled. Laughter pierced the darkness like a lance.
"Let's see if there's any spirits down there who enjoy tequila!" a voice jeered, and a splash sent a sickly-sweet wave rippling through the water towards us.
That single act, a petty desecration, was the spark that ignited a fury we hadn't realized we held. The world below the surface warped slightly, the water rippling as the energy between us and the physical realm grew taut.
We exchanged a dark glance. It was time.
Our first act was subtle. Whispers, barely audible, carried on the currents. Names we didn't recognize, snatches of conversations that held no meaning. Sarah delighted in this initial game of confusion, her whispers growing louder, tinged with mockery. I felt a strange exhilaration, a power we had lacked in life.
"Did you…did you hear that?" Melissa's voice came, tinged with a hint of unease.
"Hear what?" Jen laughed, but it was a nervous laugh, the forced laughter of someone trying to convince themselves.
