White Whispers

It was ghost quiet when the killings began. The popping of gunfire accompanied by the terrified shrieks of dying men, women, and children filled the air and reached into the night like a hand calling for aid, or something. But this only brought joy to the outlaws responsible for the sordid acts.

However, while these outlaws laughed, scorned, and reveled in the deeds their hands had wrought, they were unaware that they had awakened something damned and hopeless. Something that shouldn't be disturbed in the house of silence, not far from the killing square.

Hope sprang in this house, and her tidy walls did rattle with joy. It was the most the house could do, for if she was capable of more, her silver and goldwares, plates, and cups would have left their racks and cupboards to make high-pitched sounds. Beds, sofas, stools, chairs, and tables would have joined in, causing a ruckus to attract attention. But this was a house that was not to be noticed. A house cursed to create nothing but whispers. A house that wasn't a house.

Outnumbering the town's people five to one, the outlaws concluded the killing, cutting the last of their victims to pieces, and sharing the meats with their colleagues. But something in the walls of this house was watching, something that loved them not.

It had grown quiet again, save for a few shouts and laughter here and there. Then, the men went into a festive spirit. The house not far away grew disappointed, and it felt its hope dashed to pieces.

"They will find us," came a whisper in the night, one spoken with hope.

This was a whisper with a mind of its own. A creature like a voice, unable to be seen, or felt, but one able to see, feel, and smell. It was the whisper of a being called Rose Steele, and she was currently one of the captives of the house of silence, the very body of the house itself.

This was what time had done to Rose and her sisters. This was what a curse had done to them against their will. But a whisper had been sent. A feeling of hope to be restored.

Rose perceived the stench of these men. They reeked of trouble and death, a smell that only made her salivate. Peace clung to her, but she desired trouble. Rose had sent out this whisper to have a closer look, and a closer feel of these men, then to invite them in.

She wanted it to fill them with just enough lust and want like she did other unwavering passersby who already knew and recognized her. But these men had destroyed them, well, a few, and she had come to guide these men, these fresh bloods who didn't know her, to her. Maybe it was a weak trial, but they were men, and lust, no matter how weak, always did seem distracting to men.

Standing three feet from the leader of the bandits was Rose, and she watched him savor the chopped-off human bodies before him. These chopped-off bodies were once the unwavering town's people who knew and avoided her, but they didn't matter now. At least, there was no one to warn these men.

Blood to these outlaws was sweet, and the leader, he had blood dripping to his beards from the meat he chewed. One of the bandits approached the leader.

"We've found one," he said.

Rose looked in the direction of the house. It was the only house no one, or anything would dare go into, not even dirt, or disorder. Silence, peace, and tidiness lived there, and ever-changing had this house been for millennia. All who saw it and wrote about it always said the same thing. It was a tomb to avoid. Maybe a house, but a tomb, and unlike any other house, this one was alive.

The leader gave the order for them to storm the house.

The bandits moved in the direction of the house with the man who had scouted it in the lead, and their leader joined them with his meal abandoned. It was all Rose could do to keep her smile from bursting out. She glided over the men through the night, returning into her body, waiting for her guests, hoping to play host.

"Wake up, sisters," Rose whispered. "They've found us."

Rose felt her sisters wake up.

The bandits reached the house in no time, and with a crash, the entrance door fell to the floor.

"Wait," Rose whispered to her sisters. "Wait. We mustn't lose them this time. We must act as great hosts." This wasn't their first attempt. For centuries, they had tried and failed to achieve freedom. Today, it was possible.

Rose perceived the men when they walked in, and so did her sisters. They were silent, watching, waiting, and hoping to take in more than dirt on the sole of the feet of these men.

"It's so tidy," one man said. "I doubt I've ever seen any house this neat before."

"And well arranged," another said.

The leader walked in. "Search the house, kill anyone inside, and take everything of value."

"Ouch," one of the bandits said abruptly. "I touched the wall and it cut my hand. Is that supposed to happen?" He raised his bloody hand to show his colleagues and the leader who had turned to look at him.

"Maybe, you have baby hands," the leader joked.

Some of the men laughed.

The wounded man did nothing to conceal his injury as blood not so slowly leaked out. Instead, he shook his hand, and drops of blood touched the floor. Unnoticed by these men, these drops of blood were absorbed into the floor.

The sisters were now at full strength.

"Now," Rose whispered.

A hand reached out from the wall and dragged a man inside, leaving no cracks or any opening to where it had dragged the man into, other hands reached out from the floor, ceiling, sofa, and table, making the unfortunate men shriek, letting their colleagues know.

Dread filled the air and the core of these men like a thing alive, and it appeared on their faces with bewildered expressions mingled with terror. Their hearts thumped fast in hopes to leave their chests.

Hands reached out again from the door, mirror, cupboard, window, and curtain, collecting a new set of victims. Some of the men tried to run out, but the floor held them fast while they screamed their hearts out.

As if realizing what was happening, the leader shouted, "Fire!"

Rapid gunfire rang in the house, the men fired at the floor, walls, ceiling, and everywhere that they had seen a hand. Those outside tried to come inside to give aid when they realised the ones inside seemed to need help. But there was no need, for as soon as it had begun, the house was no more, and they were all standing exposed under the night sky.

It was a mystery how the house disappeared. It was like it was never there, to begin with. Worse, no one could see the five lurking shadows with different colours of hair. They couldn't have seen them anyway, for darkness unlike any other suddenly settled around them, causing them to shriek to the bites, the rips of flesh, the dread that enveloped them.

Every man had his voice and hands raised, groping in the darkness, hoping to escape the pain. But soon, every man's voice was silenced as the darkness lifted, and all that remained was the night. All that was left of the site were lots of scattered bones, five beings gently stirring, and more terrifying whispers, whispering.

Then the distinct, cold whisper of Rose Steele came, and it said, "Now, let's find them."

Anna jerked from sleep.

She heard the crashing of waves on the seashore, the whooshing of whips, and the grunting of men in the compound, but none of these had woken her up. A nightmare had, and it had been so clear like she was present.

Anna's heart was thumping loudly, and every joint in her body quivered with dread. The cold air in her room from the sea touched the sweat trickling down her face and the back of her neck, but it did nothing to stop it. With shaky hands, she touched her nightgown, it was soaked. She looked around her, the sheet was also soaked.

She hadn't wet herself. She had never done that before in her life. This was something else, and she was unsure of what it was, even though it came with the air of dread.

The whooshing stopped as did the grunting of men.

The nightmare. She tried to recall the images, but all she could see were flashes. No. She had to remember. Something in there had... Yes, now she saw it. There had been a house, the house of silence it looked like, then it was gone and there were five shadowed feminine figures with different colours of hair.

At their feet lay bones, but they were looking for more. They had said something, no, whispered something, and it was to find someone or a group of people, she wasn't sure which. But there had been a warning, one whispered to her.

The door to Anna's room opened, and she jumped. It was only her maid, Harriet Foster.

Harriet was a slender lady with dark hair, and she was the daughter of one of Anna's father's men.

"Sorry my lady," Harriet said. "I didn't mean to wake you."

Harriet began closing the door when Anna said, "Wait." Her maid further opened the door. "Has my father's ship departed?"

Harriet said something, but Anna didn't hear her, for she was reflecting on her own words.

Ship. The sea. And now she remembered the warning.

"Do not let your father venture to the sea," a voice had whispered to her in her dream as she beheld the sight of the five ladies now getting to their feet.

"Why," Anna had asked.

The voice had cackled higher than its whisper. "He would die. Warn him. And if he doubts you, tell him to check the coast at sunrise."

The sun wasn't yet up.

"My lady," Harriet called, getting her attention. "I said your father's ship hasn't departed."

"And we mustn't let it depart." Anna briskly rolled out of the bed and got to her feet.

It was now Harriet took note of her mistress' soaked nightgown and her gaze widened. "My lady! Are you okay?"

Anna approached Harriet. "No." she walked past her maid in haste to her father's... She paused to turn back to Harriet who was still looking at her awkwardly. "Where is he?"

"In his study."

With quickened footsteps, Anna ignored the gazes of the servants as they followed her through the compound. She looked at the prisoner sitting with his back against a wooden bloody pole with his hands held up with chains, and she could spot the red straight marks of whips on his body. No doubt, the men who had done this to him had been the ones grunting, and he had barely made a sound.

He slowly raised his head to look at her, but she looked away.

There was a guard before her father's study, and the guard began to say something to her, but she ignored him and walked inside to her father sitting on his desk, scratching with his pen, leaving inked words on a document.

"You mustn't go," Anna said and felt the hand of the guard behind her.

Her father looked up at her, and curtly nodded, the guard released his hold of her and withdrew out of the room.

Lord White, they called him. He was the only man Anna knew who did things rationally, acting on patience, and true justice. His leadership on Crest Hill after all had kept the people from the notorious Baron's men. But now, the Baron's men seemed more persistent, and were beginning to ask so much from Father. He was from a pure line of Whites, a family that burnt and imprisoned people with supernatural abilities, she was told, but mother's love for him had changed his perspective on supernatural creatures, and he had eloped with her to this place.

"Father!" Anna said. "You must not go overseas. You won't make it to the other side."

Lord White looked at his daughter through a blank expression, and he leaned back against his seat. He noticed her soaked nightgown which clung to her body, revealing what parts that very well needed to be concealed, and he saw how much she had changed. He should find her a husband soon, he thought, but first, he needed to find out what this was. "What is it?"

"I had a dream last night. The house of silence turned into five ladies."

Lord White arched a brow. He knew the house of silence. His ancestors, he was told, turned five whispers into that house, placing a curse to keep them so forever, and making sure every human they whispered to did avoid the house.

Anna went on with her dream. "A voice said to warn you not to go to the sea. It said you would meet its wrath, and you won't get across."

"My love!" Lord White said, trying to explain. "The Baron's son is tied to a pole outside. I must send him back to his father so he can meet his bride. He's been our prisoner for a long time."

More like he's been hiding under their nose for long. But it was protection he did seek, and Crest Hill had granted it, although temporarily.

"The Baron wants to train a man to take his place," Lord White went on, "and if I don't send him back his son, he could bring war to us."

"Do you doubt me, Father?"

Her father looked at her, his gaze was calculative.

Ray's of sunlight came in through the windows, giving everything it touched a golden glow.

"Check the coast," came Anna's cold reply.

Lord White took some seconds to look at his daughter, then he got to his feet. "This better be good," he said. He walked up to the door that led out to the view of the coast, and opened it, his heart froze beneath his chest, and he let out a gasp.

Anna also stared in awe as she approached the door. Before her was a coast ridden with bodies, and the edge of the sea was red with blood. Knowing the story of the five whispers, Anna had nothing else to say, except, "They are back. They are back."

They set the man on a long table. He was in a tight, wet, white and gold outfit, the white and gold, being the colour of the Baron's house. There was sand in his hair, part of his face, and it also stuck on his dress. Among two thousand men, he was the only man breathing.

Anna knew she wasn't supposed to be here, but for some reason, her father let her. She looked at the man gently stir, opened his eyes, and forced him to a sitting position with shock written on his face. Suddenly, he began to scream, not recognizing those around him, or from a different cause which could be that he was seeing something else.

"Please," he cried. "I promised that I would tell them."

Lord White's men dressed back, and the Baron's man placed both hands to his ears.

"Stop whispering," he said with a low pitiful tone. "Stop with the voices. I heard you the first time. Please. Please. Don't kill me. I will warn them, I promise."

Everyone stood silent, watching.

The Baron's man fell silent, and made prayer like whispers. He opened his eyes, looked around the room, then slowly, he dropped his hands. His chest was rising hard and falling, his eyes darted from corner to corner in fright.

"Relax, friend," Lord White said. "We are friends. We are here to help."

The man whispered, "Here to help."

"Yes," Lord White said. "Here to help. What happened to your men, and ships?"

The man closed his eyes, and quickly shook his head as if in an attempt to shake off a dreadful memory, but it wouldn't leave. He looked up at Lord White. "She said it would not leave."

"Who said?" Lord White asked.

The man smiled. It was a smile of caution, one meant to be heeded. "The red one. She is the eldest. Yes. She is. It was her colour you saw at the coast. She said she would leave it there for you to find." He frowned, shut his eyes, and shook his head again. He opened his gaze and locked them with Lord White. "She said it would not leave. She warned that the memory and the whispers would not leave until I warned you."

"What was her warning?"

"You are not to come looking for them."

"Them?" Lord White inquired. He needed to be sure he meant the five whispers.

"Yes. They are five. All beautiful goddesses, made from the sea, and the silence of trees. Seek out silence, and you'll find them in peace. Seek out trouble, or dare shout amongst trees, and you'll also find them. However, the latter wouldn't bode well for the person who does. The former, you will find them, and with love."

"What happened?" Anna asked, out of place.

The man turned to look at her. She hadn't changed her dress, but that didn't matter. The dress was beginning to dry already, although moist, it still revealed her exquisite form.

"We were at sea," the man said, trying to recall the event. "One of the men told me to go fetch the dogs so they could feast on them, prisoners. I didn't want to watch, or bring the dogs. I was forced into this life by the Baron. He said it was a courtesy to spare my family from the horrors of war, and for them to enjoy the protection he offered. Every man was supposed to watch. So I got the dogs with the other men, and we watched them devour these men. The growls of the dogs and the dying screams of these prisoners made the men laugh except me. You see, these prisoners were only pregnant ladies, mothers, children, frail old men, and family men. They didn't do us any harm. The men were just hungry, and they needed the dogs to kill them so they could divide the spoils.

"Well, the dogs killed the last of these prisoners, suddenly, their growls turned to whimpers. With fright on their faces, they looked with caution into the air all around us and began to bark. Uninterested in taking bites from their kills, they began to back away. Some jumped into the sea, and quickly the water took them. We heard no more barking. Not even the waves of the sea. Everywhere around us fell silent, and you could tell the men were holding their breath, not knowing what to expect. Everyone wore distress on their faces, dread settled on us like a heavy blanket. You could feel the weight crashing on us, and it was then we saw them. Five naked ladies, bobbing up and down in the sea. Their plump breasts were well revealed, but their secrets below were hidden by the very same sea.

"They laughed at us, high cackles, one you would associate with evil, then darkness settled all around us. I first heard rips, then screams, followed by cracks, splashing, and thuds. The darkness lifted, and one stood before me. The one with the red hair. She had red eyes, and a very beautiful form. I've never seen anyone so beautiful. She really was pleasing to behold, but something about her heightened the initial fear I felt, and I believed I was going to die."

"Did she say her name?" Anna asked.

The man shook his head. "No. She didn't. She just introduced herself as the silence around us. But that for now, she was reclined to the sea for some reason, and that, however, she would be on land soon." He looked at Anna's father. "She said to warn you, Lord White. She said she knows who you are, and knows what your family did to her. She said to warn you not to come looking for her. She made it very clear before she let me sail to the coast. I didn't move with the sea. She commanded the sea and it took the ship, while a wave carried me to the coast. I believed she was still with me. That's why I screamed. Did anyone survive?"

Lord White shook his head. "You're the only one who survived." But his warning didn't matter. Before the Baron brought his large company to Crest Hill to kill the people under his protection, he would find these ladies and would have them chained, ready to be delivered to the Baron. After all, no one had more power in all the land than the Baron, and Kings and Lords he answered to. These ladies were nothing.

Rose Steele's whisper heard him and smiled. "I'll be waiting, White. It's time we did catch up."

Anna looked at the air above her, sensing, but seeing nothing...

Rose's whisper sailed away.