Silent Screams in the Darkness

In the depths of night, when the world holds its breath, there lies a pulse—an echo of something once known. The whispers come, creeping along like a chilling wind, carrying secrets of the forgotten.

She sits in the corner of an empty room, where the light dares not to tread. Her eyes, once bright, are now reflections of shadows. She listens, but the screams are silent; only she hears them.
A world where your voice cannot breach the barriers and the pleas dissolve into the ether. She reaches out, yet her words unravel into the night, lost among the stars.

It’s a cycle, the whispers. An old song sung by voices unseen, reminding her of what was. The darkness calls her name, a haunting serenade that draws closer, ever so slowly.

MPULSE