I walked alone down the cobble-stoned pathway, illuminated only by the dim streetlights of the streets in Paris. My grey turtleneck, black overcoat, and brown leather boots seemed to blend seamlessly with the surrounding shadows as I breathed in the cold winter air.
The bakery nearby emitted a warm, inviting aura, while the streetlight flickered above. The gentle breeze blew, caressing my hair and creating an intimate embrace between the night and my presence.
As I continued strolling through the road, a low whisper tugged at the borders of my auditory awareness.
Soft, almost imperceptible.
The whisper seemed to float around me, wrapping itself around my ears like a subtle, spectral embrace.
My eyes narrowed in curiosity and bewilderment.
There was no one around.
No one in sight, at least.
Yet the whispers persisted, growing a little louder with each passing moment.
The whispers sounded like distant murmurings at first—a soft hum that barely reached my hearing. But as I focused more on the sound, the whispers solidified, forming more distinct words that echoed clearly. Words that sounded eerily familiar.
“Elysia…”
“Erythia…”
“Evanah...”
"Elyna…"
Did it just mentioned my name?
My skin prickled with goosebumps.
I stared where the whispers came from, the corner of the street that was covered in shadows.
My grip on my coat pockets tightened.
The whispers persisted, repeating the names softly, yet increasingly distinctly. Their tone was almost melodious, like a soothing lullaby.
As the whispers grew louder, they started enclosing me.
I tensed up and my heart began to race. I had never heard whispers like these before. They were ethereal and haunting, yet strangely comforting.
As I moved closer to the shadowed corner, the whispers suddenly echoed louder and clearer—like a hushed conversation that I was only meant to overhear.
The streetlight in front of me suddenly flickered again, and the whispers suddenly stopped. Then, the night was enveloped by a deafening silence.
I stood, rooted to the spot, staring at the darkened space. A wave of bewilderment washed over me. The whispers were gone, as if they were swallowed by the night itself.
The street was now quiet and still once more.
Weird.
I tried to shake off the uncomfortable feeling that had settled within me, rubbing my arms as if to dispel the chills that had come over me.
Hesitant, I started walking again, but my mind was preoccupied by the strange event that had just happened.
The whispers had seemed to know some names… my name.
But how?
And who or what had whispered it?
I guess it was just my overactive imagination and the shadows playing tricks on my mind.
I continued walking, trying to put the incident out of my mind.
The cold winter air was crisp and sharp, and the cobblestones under my feet felt rough and uneven. As much as I tried to focus on the present, the whispers continued to linger in the back of my mind, like a faint memory resurfacing in sporadic bursts.
