Echoes of Midnight

Whispers in the Fog

The next morning, sunlight filters through the curtains of Arin’s bedroom. She sits at her desk, staring at the radio. Its surface seems to shimmer faintly under the light, the symbols glowing ever so slightly. The whispers from last night still echo in her mind.

It wasn’t static. It was… something else. Something real.

A knock at the door interrupts her thoughts. She opens it to find Rohan standing there, holding a camera slung over his shoulder.

“Ready to dig deeper?” he asks with a determined look.

Arin nods, grabbing her notebook and the map they found yesterday. “Let’s do this.”

They meet at the local library, a sprawling building filled with the scent of old books and parchment. Together, they spread out their findings on a table—a map, the journal, and Arin’s sketches.

“If we can find more about these disappearances,” Arin says, “maybe we’ll figure out what’s really happening.”

Rohan agrees. “Agreed. Let’s split up. I’ll check the archives for newspaper clippings; you look through the history section.”

Arin nods and begins browsing shelves labeled “Local History.” She pulls down a thick tome titled Legends of Willow Bay . As she flips through its pages, her breath catches at a passage describing rituals performed on The Veil Island centuries ago.

“These rituals…” she murmurs, her voice trembling. “Could that be connected to the symbols on the radio?”

She reads further, discovering that the rituals were meant to summon or bind an ancient entity said to inhabit the island. According to legend, those who tampered with the rituals often vanished without a trace.

Meanwhile, Rohan returns with a stack of yellowed newspaper clippings. Each article details the disappearance of a teenager near The Veil Island, accompanied by eerie descriptions of glowing lights and shadowy figures.

“Look at this,” Rohan says, pointing to one clipping. “Every missing person reported seeing strange lights before vanishing.”

“And they all mentioned hearing voices,” Arin adds, her heart pounding. “Just like me.”

Sudden realization dawns on both of them. The whispers aren’t random—they’re tied to the island and its cursed history.

Back at Arin’s house, she records the whispers coming from the radio, playing them back repeatedly. With each playback, the voices become clearer.

“They sound different,” she whispers to herself. “Like they’re separate people.”

Suddenly, one voice stands out—a girl crying for help.

“Please… someone has to hear me…”

Arin sketches the voice, capturing the emotion in her lines. When she finishes, she notices something strange—the sketch resembles a photo she saw earlier in the journal.

“That’s her,” Arin gasps. “That’s the girl from the journal.”

Rohan arrives just as she makes the connection. “What did you find?”

“This isn’t just a story,” Arin replies, showing him the sketch. “These people were real. And somehow, they’re reaching out to us.”

Rohan studies the drawing closely. “If the whispers are tied to the island, then maybe the answers are there too. But we need to be careful. Whatever’s out there, it doesn’t want us poking around.”

Later that evening, Arin tries to focus on schoolwork but finds herself distracted by the whispers. They grow louder, feeding off her fear and uncertainty. In her sketchbook, she draws feverishly, capturing images of shadowy figures and glowing runes.

Her phone buzzes suddenly, startling her. It’s a text from Rohan.

ROHAN : Found something interesting. Meet me at the bookstore after dinner.

Curious but wary, Arin agrees. At the bookstore, Rohan shows her an old photograph he uncovered in his grandfather’s collection. It depicts a group of teenagers standing near the lighthouse on The Veil Island. One of them bears a striking resemblance to the girl in Arin’s sketch.

“This proves it,” Rohan says. “The whispers are real. And they’re tied to the island.”

Arin feels a lump form in her throat. “But why me? Why now?”

Rohan hesitates before answering. “Maybe because your family’s involved somehow. Remember the symbols on the radio? They match the ones used in the rituals.”

Arin’s mind races as she recalls the cryptic letters left by Grandma Kamala. Could her grandmother have known more than she let on? Was the radio a warning—or a trap?

As night falls, Arin hears footsteps outside her window. She peers out into the darkness, but all she sees is fog rolling in across the yard. Just as she turns away, a shadowy figure vanishes into the mist.

Her heart races as she realizes the entity—or whatever it is—knows they’re getting close.

Inside the house, the radio emits a soft hum. On its surface, the symbols glow faintly, pulsing in time with Arin’s heartbeat. A new voice joins the whispers, clearer and more urgent than the others.

“Arin… listen carefully. There’s a way to defeat the entity, but it comes at a cost. Meet me at the lighthouse tomorrow night. Alone.”

Arin hesitates, torn between hope and fear. Can she trust this voice—or is it just another trick?