Daniel spent the next hour pacing back and forth his apartment, his mind racing as he tried to make sense of what had just happened. The voices, the chill, the shifting photograph, it all felt unreal, like something out of a nightmare he couldn’t wake from. Yet, the weight in his chest, the unknown feeling, the oppressive stillness of the room, made it all too clear that this was no dream.

He couldn’t ignore the voice anymore.

“Listen” it had said. One simple word, but it carried hundreds and thousands of implications. Listen to what? To who? And why him?

He ran a hand through his unkempt hair, his fingers trembling as they caught on tangles. The urge to run, to leave everything behind, was overwhelming, but where would he go? Would even leaving everything behind stop the voices that he can now hear? There is no escaping this, he felt instinctively..not the voices, not the memories, not the suffocating grief that clung to him like a second skin.

His gaze drifted back to the photograph lying on the floor. The frame facing down. He crouched down, hesitant, and picked it up again, the ground where the photograph fall is now with tiny powdered shards of glasses, he flip it and saw a jagged line splitting Emily's face.

The shadowy figure from before was gone, replaced by the familiar image of his daughter smiling brightly. For a moment, a wave of relief washed over him. Maybe it was all his imagination. Maybe his mind, fractured by grief and exhaustion, had conjured the entire encounter causing him to see and hear things.

But as he stared at the photo back again, the faint whisper returned.

This time, it was barely audible, like the rustling of leaves on a distant wind. It wasn’t Emily’s voice. It wasn’t even the deep, commanding tone from earlier. It was something else..softer, more hesitant.

“Help me.”

Daniel froze, his breath catching in his throat. The words were faint but unmistakable. He whipped his head around, scanning the room, nothing seem to caught his attention, nothing seems wrong, but he is sure he is alone.

“Who’s there?” he demanded, his voice shaking.

(Silence.....)

He gripped the photograph tighter, his knuckles turning white. His heart hammered in his chest as he rose to his feet, every nerve in his body is now on edge. The voice had sounded close, impossibly close, as though it had come from within the room itself.

“Help you?” he said, his voice faltering. “I—I don’t understand. Who are you? What do you want?”

The air seemed to grow heavier, pressing down on him like an invisible weight. A cold draft brushed against his neck, sending a shiver down his spine.

And then he saw it.

The mirror hanging on the wall across the room.

At first, it appeared normal, just a simple rectangular mirror with a tarnished silver frame, reflecting the cluttered living space behind him. But as he stared, something shifted.

The reflection of the room began to darken, the edges of the glass warping and twisting as though it were mixed in a blender. Shadows seeped into the surface, swirling and coalescing into a form.....a figure.

Daniel was so overwhelmed that he forgot to instinctively breath for a few moments.

It was a man. Or at least, it had been a man once. His outline was faint, blurred around the edges like an unfinished sketch. His face is gaunt, his eyes sunken and hollow, yet they burned with an intensity that pinned Daniel in place.

“Help me” the figure said again, its voice echoing faintly from the mirror.

Daniel stumbled back, his pulse racing. “Wh-What is this?” he stammered, his voice cracking. “Who are you? How are you--”

The figure raised a hand, silencing him. “You can hear us,....right?” it said, its voice steady but tinged with desperation. “That means you can help.”

“Help? Help with what?” Daniel demanded, his fear giving way to frustration. “I don’t even know what’s happening to me!”

The figure tilted its head slightly, as though considering his words. “ Very few living can hear us, even then a handful listens. You must have been chosen,” it said simply.

This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.

“Chosen???” Daniel echoed, his voice rising. “For what? I didn’t ask for this!”

“No one asks...” the figure replied, its tone growing softer. “But you’ve been given a gift....or a curse, depending on how you see it. You can hear us, so you can listen to our stories.”

Daniel shook his head, his mind racing. “Why me? I’m no one special. I’m just…” His voice trailed off, his gaze falling to the floor. “I’m broken.”

The figure’s expression didn’t change, but there was a flicker of something in its eyes....pity, perhaps, or understanding. “Sometimes, the broken are the only ones who can see what others cannot.”

Daniel clenched his fists, his frustration boiling over. “I don’t want this,” he said, his voice trembling. “I.....just want to be left alone.”

The figure’s gaze hardened. “And what of those who can never be alone? Those who are trapped, forgotten, silenced?”

The words struck a chord deep within Daniel, silencing his protests. He thought of Emily, her voice pleading with him to stay. He thought of the guilt that had haunted him ever since her death, the nagging feeling that he’d missed something, failed her in some fundamental way.

“Who are you?” he asked finally, his voice barely more than a whisper.

The figure’s outline flickered, its form growing fainter. “My name doesn’t matter...” it said. “What matters is my story. And whether or not you’ll listen.”

Daniel hesitated, his instincts screaming at him to run. But something in the figure’s voice, its quiet desperation held him in place.

“What… what happened to you?” he asked, his voice trembling.

The figure’s expression softened, and for the first time, Daniel saw something human in its hollow eyes.

“I was betrayed...” it said simply. “Left to die. Forgotten by those I trusted.”

Daniel’s heart ached at the raw pain in the figure’s voice. “Why… why are you telling me this?”

“Because you can change it.” the figure replied. “You can uncover the truth. You can set things right.”

Before Daniel could respond, the figure began to fade, its outline dissolving into the shadows.

“Wait!” he called out, panic rising in his chest. “How do I—”

But the figure was already gone, leaving Daniel alone in the silent, suffocating darkness of his apartment.

He sank to the floor, his head in his hands, as the weight of the encounter settled over him. He didn’t know what to think, what to believe. But one thing was certain:

The dead weren’t done with him yet.

.................................................................

Daniel sat in silence, the weight of the encounter pressing down on him like a suffocating blanket. His mind raced with questions, but no answers came. The figure’s parting words echoed in his thoughts, haunting and relentless.

"You can set things right."

He didn’t know how to “set things right.” He wasn’t a detective, a hero, or anyone equipped to deal with this kind of insanity. He was just Daniel Cross...a broken man barely holding on to the scraps of his existence.

But as much as he wanted to dismiss it all as some cruel hallucination, he couldn’t shake the feeling that it was real. Too real.

He dragged himself to the kitchen and poured a glass of water, his hands trembling so badly that half of it splashed onto the counter. He stared into the glass as if it might offer him some clarity, but all he saw was his own distorted reflection.

And then, faintly, he heard the whispers again.

“Listen… please…”

The glass slipped from his hand, shattering on the floor. He stumbled back, his chest tightening as the voices grew louder, more distinct.

“Help us… we’re still here… forgotten…”

The whispers came from everywhere and nowhere, surrounding him, invading his mind. He clutched his head, trying to block them out, but they only grew more insistent.

“STOP!!!!” he shouted, his voice cracking.

The voices fell silent, leaving an eerie stillness in their wake. Daniel stood there, breathing heavily, his heart pounding in his chest. His eyes darted around the room, searching for any sign of 'the voices' source.

And then he saw it...a faint glow emanating from the corner of the living room.

It was the mirror.

The tarnished silver frame seemed to shimmer in the dim light, the glass surface rippling like water. Daniel felt his legs move on their own, drawing him closer despite every instinct screaming for him to run.

As he stood before the mirror, the glow intensified, and the surface began to shift again. Shapes emerged from the swirling shadows, forming the faint outlines of figures.

There were three of them this time.

The first was the man from earlier, his hollow eyes filled with the same desperate urgency. Beside him stood a woman, her face pale and gaunt, her dark hair tangled and matted. Her lips moved silently, as if she were trying to speak but couldn’t find the words.

The third figure was smaller, frailer...a boy, no older than ten. His wide eyes stared at Daniel, filled with fear and a sadness that seemed far too heavy for someone so young.

Daniel’s throat tightened, and he took an involuntary step back. “What do you all want from me?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

The man stepped forward, his outline flickering like a weak signal on an old television. “ Since you are one of those that can hear us..You’ve been chosen to hear us” he said, his voice steady but tinged with sorrow. “To bear witness to our stories.”

Daniel shook his head, his breathing shallow. "Again with this? I'm tired of this mysterious cryptic responses...just why me?

The woman’s form flickered, her hand reaching out as if to touch him. “Because no one else will listen..” she said softly, her voice breaking.

The boy clung to her side, his small hands gripping her tattered dress. He didn’t speak, but his eyes said everything...pleading, hoping.

Daniel felt his resolve crumbling under the weight of their presence. He wanted to run, to escape this nightmare, but something deep inside him wouldn’t let him.

Daniel took a long deep breath. “What do you need me to do?” he asked finally, his voice tho still trembling.

The man’s hollow eyes locked onto his. “Tell the world our truths,” he said. “Expose the lies that buried us. Only then can we rest.”

Daniel’s stomach churned. “What lies? I don’t even know where to start!”

The man’s expression darkened, his form flickering more violently. “Start with me.” he said. “My name....My Living name was Robert Langley. I was a soldier...a loyal one. But they left me to die.”

The name hit Daniel like a punch to the gut. He remembered reading it in the unnoticeable corner of the newspaper years ago, a soldier declared missing in action during a classified operation. There had been a brief uproar, followed by silence. The world had moved on, and Robert Langley had been forgotten.

“So What happened to you?” Daniel asked, his voice barely steady.

Robert’s form grew sharper, the shadows around him deepening. “I was a pawn in their game" he said, his tone bitter. “They used me, discarded me, and erased every trace of what really happened.”

The woman stepped forward, her voice trembling as she spoke. “I’m Maria” she said. “I died searching for my daughter...taken by men who promised help but only brought pain.”

Daniel’s heart sank. The boy’s grip on Maria tightened, his eyes glistening with unshed tears.

“And him?” Daniel asked, his voice breaking as he gestured toward the boy.

Maria’s form flickered, her voice thick with emotion. “His name is Peter. He doesn’t speak anymore… but he died waiting for a father who never came home.”

Daniel staggered back, overwhelmed by the weight of their stories. Each one felt like a blow to his chest, their pain and sorrow wrapping around him like chains.

“How… how am I supposed to be of help to any of you??” he asked, his voice cracking.

Robert’s gaze bore into him, unyielding. “You start by listening. Truly listening. Our stories have been silenced for too long. You can’t save us, but you can make sure the world knows we were here. Maybe also learn something from our stories."

The shadows around the figures began to waver, their forms growing fainter.

“Wait! What's going on to you all?” Daniel called out, panic rising in his chest. “Wait! Don’t go! I—I don’t know how to do this!”

Robert’s voice echoed faintly as his form dissolved. “You’ll find a way. You have to.”

The glow from the mirror faded, leaving Daniel alone once more. He sank to the floor, his head in his hands, as the enormity of what had just happened crashed over him.

The dead had chosen him to be their voice, their witness.

And there was no turning back. Not after hearing what they have told him.

(To be Continued)