Setting the scene…
Interactive story
The whispers call
Be careful, or rather, run!
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Previously
…The pattern was undeniable, the fear palpable, and the whispers, once a distant echo, were now a roaring tide, threatening to engulf her. She looked at Morales, his face etched with worry and a dawning unease. They were in this together, whether he admitted it or not. The whispers had called to the victims, and now they were calling to her. And the chilling realization settled upon her: if they were calling her name, it meant they knew her. And if they knew her, they were coming for her. The night was no longer a sanctuary; it was a hunting ground. And the hunters were the whispers.