Story 701: The Whispering Plague (Series HS: PW)

The town of Black Hollow had been dying long before the Pale Widow arrived. The air was thick with decay, the streets deserted, save for those too sick to flee. Rats scurried between the bodies of the fallen, their eyes gleaming with an unnatural hunger. No one knew when the sickness had begun, only that it spread like wildfire—first fevers, then black veins creeping beneath the skin, and finally, the whispers.

At first, they were only faint murmurs in the ears of the infected. But soon, the voices spoke of ancient secrets, of forgotten gods and the promise of eternal life. Those who listened too long lost their minds. And then, they rose again.

Deep within the ruins of The Rotting Cathedral, Selene Nocturna watched her work unfold. Cloaked in shadows, she traced symbols in the dirt, her pale fingers dripping with a viscous black ichor. The plague was taking hold, twisting flesh and bone into something far worse than mere death.