They all thought the voices in my head meant I was broken—until the whispers started predicting deaths.
I had learned to ignore them at first. A faint murmur when the room was silent, like someone breathing behind my thoughts. Most of the time, it was nonsense: a name, a word, a direction I never followed. People told me I imagined it, that it was stress, that I should see a doctor. I wanted to believe them. I tried to. But last night proved I couldn't.
I woke to a whisper I had never heard before. Clear, sharp, urgent.
"Derek Halloran. Midnight. He won't see tomorrow."
I froze. The words echoed in my skull, repeating over and over. Derek Halloran wasn't just a name; he was the richest kid in school, untouchable, the kind of person who laughed at danger like it was a joke. Yet the whisper sounded… absolute.
I wanted to shrug it off. Tell myself it was imagination. But curiosity won. By the time the clock struck eleven-fifty-nine, I found myself outside Derek's apartment window, hiding in the shadows.
And then it happened.
A sudden scream, followed by the sickening sound of a body hitting the floor. I didn't move, didn't breathe, just watched. Seconds later, the building lights went out. When emergency responders arrived, Derek was gone, the security cameras mysteriously offline.
I ran. My chest burned, my mind raced. I couldn't explain what I had just witnessed. Not to anyone. Not even myself. And yet, the whisper returned.
"You're next."
I screamed. My head ached, my vision blurred. I stumbled back to my apartment, slammed the door, and pressed my hands to my ears. But the whispers didn't stop. They filled the room, surrounding me. They spoke of names, of places, of events that hadn't happened yet. Every time I tried to block them out, a new voice broke through, more insistent, more demanding.
By morning, I realized something terrifying: the whispers weren't random. They were instructions. They were systems. I wasn't just hearing them—I was learning from them. With each prediction that came true, a part of me understood more, calculated more. A hidden interface of reality, laying itself bare in my mind.
I didn't know if it was a curse or a gift. What I did know was that if I ignored it, people would die. And if I followed it… something else might happen. Something worse.
The day dragged on like a nightmare. I tried going to school, tried acting normal, but the whispers were relentless. I could hear a faint hum in the background, counting down. Not time. Something else. A system? A level? I had no idea what it meant. But every time I tested it, every time I listened, my reactions became sharper, faster. My awareness grew in ways I couldn't explain.
It wasn't long before the first "lesson" came.
A classmate, Jenna, tripped in the hallway. Nothing serious, I thought—but the whisper screamed:
"She's bleeding. Third floor. Bathroom. Now."
I ran without thinking, ignoring the stares, ignoring the principal yelling for order. I found Jenna unconscious, a sharp knife sticking from her side. Blood everywhere. I lifted her, carried her down the stairs, calling 911. The whisper stopped as soon as I saved her.
It was a system. A dark, cruel, unforgiving system that demanded obedience. And it rewarded survival.
By the time I got home, shaking, I realized the scale of what I had stumbled into. Each whisper came with risk. Each action could save or doom someone. And yet, the more I obeyed, the more I could hear, the more I could understand. It wasn't just predictions. It was rules, tasks, upgrades. Levels.
I sat in my room, staring at the wall, thinking about Derek Halloran and the first real taste of this system. My heart raced with fear and a strange, twisted excitement. I had power. I had responsibility. I had a choice—or maybe I didn't.
Then it whispered again, softer this time, almost a tease.
"Do you want to see how far you can go?"
I swallowed hard. My pulse spiked. I didn't answer out loud. I didn't need to. The system had chosen me. There was no turning back.
And just as I began to lean into it, learning, listening, plotting, a new message appeared in my mind, bold and clear:
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SNEAK PEAK_ Chapter Two
The First Level Begins. Fail, and the next name will be yours.
I froze. Every instinct in me screamed to run, hide, ignore it. But I knew I couldn't
Because the whispers never lied.
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COLLECTIONS
2 Collections_ one chapter
4 Collections_ Two chapters
6 Collections_ Three chapters