I didn't reply to the message.
I didn't block the number either.
I just stared at the name on my screen:
Whisper.
They knew what I could do.
They knew I'd been using it.
And worse — they had their own version of it.
---
For the first time since I'd gotten this power, I felt small again.
Like I was back at the bottom, and someone else was standing above me — unseen, unheard, and already two steps ahead.
But I wasn't going to panic. Not yet.
If they wanted to play a game, I'd play it.
---
The next day, nothing happened.
No new messages. No new notes. No strange looks.
Just normal silence.
Which was worse.
Because silence meant planning.
And I didn't know whose.
---
During lunch, I slipped away from the canteen. I needed air — and space to think.
Then my phone vibrated.
Another message from Whisper.
> "Let's see how much you really hear."
"Room 3B. Now."
3B?
That classroom had been locked since exam season. Storage room now.
My fingers hovered over the reply bar.
Then stopped.
No point asking questions.
Whoever this was, they weren't going to answer with words.
---
Five minutes later, I stood outside Room 3B.
The corridor was empty. Too quiet.
I reached for the doorknob, paused… and listened.
Nothing.
No footsteps. No breathing.
Still, I opened it slowly.
Dust.
Old desks stacked on top of each other.
Sunlight bleeding through cracked blinds.
And something taped to the far wall.
---
I stepped closer.
It was a photo.
My photo.
Me — sitting in the canteen yesterday. Eating. Smiling slightly.
Underneath it, written in red marker:
> "How does it feel to be seen?"
---
My stomach dropped.
This wasn't a game anymore.
It was a hunt.
I turned to leave—
And that's when I heard it.
> "Let's see if he panics."
"He's in. Watching the photo now. This is fun."
I froze.
The thoughts weren't mine.
They weren't from inside the room either.
They were nearby.
Someone was close. Listening. Watching me.
Right now.
---
I sprinted out.
Looked left. Right.
A door clicked shut down the hall.
I ran toward it. Burst through.
Empty stairs.
Whoever it was… they were gone.
But their thoughts still echoed faintly:
> "He's smart. But sloppy."
"Next time, make it harder."
---
That night, another message.
> "Lesson 1: You're not the only monster."
I stared at the screen, heart thudding.
So this was the game now.
Not just power.
But control.
Not just secrets.
But war.
---
They had a name.
I had none.
They had control.
I had questions.
But one thing I knew for sure:
I'd find them.
Even if I had to tear through every thought in this city.
---
[To Be Continued…]