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This story contains adult content and is only suitable for persons over the age of 18.

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Synopsis

Gods can be made… this is the whispers that a psychopathic killer hears. As he goes on the hunt and begins his transformation, Kol, a detective with dangerous secrets, hunts him down and tries to prevent the second age of Gods. They are among us still, the ancient ones…. and none of us are safe. While God’s Whisper is a story of serial killers, primal gods, betrayal, murder, intrigue, lies and a lot of dark emotion. It mixes modern thriller with fresh new mythology that is brutal, intense and captivating.


Chapter 1

God

Ashton screamed into the gag that was tied forcibly over his mouth. Each scream was as futile as the last as the gag blocked out all noise but the fear coursing through Ashton’s entire being urged him to scream his heart out. As he screamed, he lashed about, trying with all his might to escape but the binds that held him down just cut into his flesh. His attempts to escape were even more futile than his attempts to scream for help. It was all futile. Tears streamed down his cheeks as hope began to drain from his mind. He then began to scream into the gag once again as fear gripped his mind even harder and his heart raced uncontrollably.

A naked man had stumbled into the room with a devilish look upon his face. His hair was unruly and long, covering part of his face and reaching his shoulders. The rest of his body was completely hairless and his skin was a sickening pale white that gave him a hauntingly frightening look. He held a silver blade in his right hand and licked his lips as he stared at Ashton with an insane glint in his eye. Ashton felt as if he was staring into his very soul. The naked man swung back his head laughing like a deranged maniac before slumping his shoulders and slowly stumbled towards Ashton. He walked with a severe limp and looked extremely weak and malnourished. As he stumbled forward the naked man began to speak, “I am tired. I am always tired, it seems to be my natural state. I try to sleep, I really do. I’ve taken pills and I’ve drunk myself sick but I never really sleep and I’m always… tired.” He sighed heavily before saying the last word as if just speaking wore him out. Yet he smiled wickedly and continued, “At night I lie in bed and I try to sleep but I never do. I’m not sleeping but I am also not fully awake, it’s somewhere in between. Then in the morning I get out of bed, not because I’m well rested but because I’m bored of lying in that goddam bed and sick of being alone with my thoughts. So like a drone, I stumbled tired through the day leading a miserable pathetic life, achieving nothing and going nowhere. All I did was exist. Then I heard a voice… or rather felt a voice. I don’t know how to really explain it, you really need to experience it to fully understand. It was like an echoing, a voice carrying from every direction, including from my very soul. I felt it throughout my entire being. I know what you’re thinking because I thought it too. Insanity due to sleep deprivation or just snapped from the futility of my mundane life but it was real. As real as this blade.” The naked man took the silver blade and cut deep into his left palm letting the blood stream from the wound and fall to the floor.

He was now right next to Ashton and held the blade menacingly in the air, “The voice told me that I was special, that I came from a powerful bloodline. I laughed. Me special? A powerful bloodline? My father was as useless as I was. He spent most of his days in a drunk stupor and fumbled his way through a miserable life of little meaning. My only memories of my grandfather were visiting him at the old age home and watching him stare blankly out of the window. He never spoke or moved. I don’t think I ever saw him blink. Some bloodline, am I right? It turns out our family has a curse that goes back generations! We aren’t mediocre by choice, we are cursed to be useless! Can you believe it? My bloodline was stunted because others were afraid of what we could do… what we could become. The voice, it conveyed to me that it was a god and that gods could be made. All it takes is lots and lots of blood!”

Ashton screamed loudly into the gag and his eyes widened with horror as the naked man leapt on top of him and plunged the silver knife into his stomach.

Ashton felt extreme pain spread throughout his entire being as the naked man cut into him again and again. The naked man then shoved his hands into Ashton’s open wounds and pulled out his insides. With his hands drenched in blood, the naked man painted his face in blood.

The naked man laughed hysterically as he continued to cut up the deceased body and didn’t stop until his entire naked form was no longer a pale white but a visceral red. Once fully covered in the blood of his fallen victim, the naked man dropped the silver knife and raised his arms in the air shouting out, “With this blood I will be remade! I will no longer be held back, no longer a pathetic mess and no longer tired! I will become a god! I await my rebirth!”

The naked man then fell to the floor, sleeping soundly for the first time in his life. His rebirth beginning…

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Kylen Coetzee

Langebaan, south_africa

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