Whispers of The Damned

By Danny Messer

 

"Whispers of The Damned" is a chilling book written by Danny Messer that tells the story of Janus, a female serial killer who is possessed by an evil and unholy Legion. Janus serves as a vessel for the Legion, which drives her to commit heinous acts of depravity on innocent victims. Ozul, one of the spirits that possesses her, speaks to Janus and fuels her desires to sacrifice a human every weekend. The FBI is working tirelessly to put an end to her reign of terror, but the body count continues to rise each year. The book is a gripping and suspenseful account of Janus's crimes and the horrifying consequences of being possessed by an otherworldly entity.

 

 

 

 

 

• Language: English
• Publisher: Danny Messer
• Release date: May 15, 2024
• ISBN: 9798224604043

Book preview

Whispers of The Damned

The Unholy Possession of a Female Killer

by Danny Messer

Chapter One

"The introduction of Janus Stokes,

of her friend Ozul."

"M y name is Janus Stokes . For a decade now, I have carried a dark and haunting secret that consumes me every day. I am a serial killer, a predator who prowls the streets on weekends, preying on unsuspecting victims. With a cold and remorseless heart, I commit unspeakable acts of depravity upon humanity. But amidst the chaos and bloodshed, there is one constant in my life: my childhood friend, Ozul. Despite our twisted relationship, he remains my loyal guide and accomplice in selecting worthy victims for sacrifice. I am but a mere vessel for the insatiable hunger of the Legion that resides within me. And when danger threatens, Ozul emerges, a manifestation of pure evil known as the Dark Shadow that lurks within me. My current residence is in the vibrant city of South Beach, Miami Beach, Florida, where I work as an office employee at a realty-based company. But behind this façade of normalcy lies a sinister and deadly truth about my true identity. This is where my story begins and is told through my eyes. I am a regular person on the surface, concealing myself and my true nature like a chameleon hides in plain sight.

After a grueling work shift, the therapeutic embrace of a hot shower seemed to wash away the fatigue, rejuvenating me for the night’s peculiar venture. The ritual hunt was almost methodical in this bustling area, rife with potential, yet tonight held an air of unpredictability as I entered my usual haunt. The ambiance of the local bar, with its clinking glasses and low hum of conversation, was immediately comforting. I settled at the counter with a Long Island Iced Tea, letting my gaze wander over the room’s occupants. My attention quickly fixated on one individual who had also noticed me: he was leaning confidently against the pool table in the back. With what felt like Ozul’s silent nod of approval pushing me forward, I approached him as he flashed a disarming smile and greeted me warmly. Hello, beautiful lady, He said smoothly. Acknowledging his compliment with a smile, I introduced myself as Janus, to which he replied, Nice to meet you. He was all charm and had no hesitation.

His suaveness did little to obscure his intentions; behind his friendly demeanor lurked a lascivious mind brimming with unseemly plans should he get the chance. This apparent dissonance between Chris Tanner’s words and his underlying motives made him an intriguing yet alarming prospect for my evening’s unusual agenda. I knew his intent, but I needed to play nicely. I was in my head, wondering if he only caught a glimpse of my intentions. He would flee screaming, running from the hell chasing him. As the night progressed, Chris asked, Do you have any plans for the evening. I don’t have anything planned for tonight; I just stopped by for a drink after work, I replied. I am here in Miami doing business. I am leaving tomorrow at noon and heading back to Philadelphia, he said. Would you be interested in hanging out with me at my hotel?

With a seductive smile, I suggested, I have a better idea. I have a beach house on the Island nearby. He responded without pause, Brilliant, I’m all in. The evening unfolded with an air of eerie excitement as Chris, and I ventured toward my secluded North Beach property, where my darker intentions could roam freely without the prying eyes of the ordinary world. As we drove, the moonlight cast ghostly shadows across Chris’s face, revealing his unguarded intrigue and obliviousness to the true nature of his weekend getaway. My mind raced with thoughts of Ozul, the enigmatic entity whose influence permeated my life and now threatened to spill over into this unsuspecting visitor’s reality. The beach house, usually a serene retreat, tonight felt charged with palpable tension as if anticipating the unfurling events.

I’ll set up the scenario; upon arrival, I led Chris through the ornately carved doors, their grotesque figures whispering secrets of what would come. The isolation of the property wasn’t just geographical but psychological, creating an intimate theatre set for a night that would peel back the façade of normalcy that I presented to the world. Each moment layered suspense upon anticipation; this was no ordinary flirtation or casual encounter. It was a dance with darkness, masterfully choreographed by forces beyond our mere human intentions. In exploring themes of power and consent, the encounter takes a sharp turn from an initially consensual encounter to a disturbing scene of aggression and supernatural intervention. The story unfolds in a large house under renovation, symbolizing transformation and hidden depths. The tone shifts dramatically as we move through the space from the inviting living room to the immaculate bedroom. Initially, there’s a sense of mutual attraction and intimacy; however, this quickly devolves into a terrifying display of control and fear. When Chris's actions become violently coercive, the power dynamics are abruptly reversed by my summoning of Ozul, a sinister entity representing my reclamation of the agency. This dramatic intervention serves as both a protective act and a stark visualization of inner turmoil made manifest. By integrating elements of horror and supernatural revenge, the experience underscores deeper discussions about autonomy, vulnerability, and resistance within interpersonal relationships, transforming an everyday setting into an arena where societal issues around consent are brought to light in their true nature.

Upon our arrival, we proceeded towards the front entrance. As we approached, Chris exclaimed, Wow, this is a massive house! Do you reside here? I responded, I occasionally stay here while working on it. Afterward, I fixed us both a drink and settled down next to him on the couch. Suddenly, he leaned in and passionately kissed me, his hands exploring my body. Amid our embrace, he inquired about my bedroom in the house. I took his hand without hesitation and led him upstairs to the main bedroom. This room is immaculate, he remarked, Did you do all the renovations and decorating yourself? I proudly confirmed, Yes, I did everything myself. My excitement grew as I pondered the appropriate moment to begin our ritual.

As we stood in the middle of the bedroom, his whole demeanor abruptly changed, and the expression on his face sent shivers up my spine. He began savagely ripping my clothes and grabbed a handful of my hair, forcing me to my knees, shoving my face toward his fully erect penis. I retaliated by grabbing his testicles, squeezing hard, and throwing him across the bed, introducing him to Ozul, the face of evil. He began screaming and struggling to escape the terror he was witnessing. He was contained with great force, getting snatched up by the throat, and his legs were dangling off the floor. Ozul said, Where are you going, Loverboy? I thought you wanted some of this. Tossing him across his shoulder, carrying him away.

Upon regaining consciousness, he found himself restrained to a table, stripped of all clothing, and surrounded by plastic. I entered the room clad in disposable coveralls, causing him to let out a piercing scream of terror. Who are you? he cried out, And what do you want from me? My response was simple yet chilling, I am your worst fucking nightmare, I replied with a sinister grin. Grabbing a blowtorch, I ignited it and began to trace his body, causing him to writhe in excruciating pain. The smell of burning flesh was repulsive as I continued to sear his skin at an intense temperature. He went into shock while I used a hand sander to roughen his body with coarse sandpaper. I desired to add a touch of blue to my masterpiece, so I took a metal bat and forcefully struck the areas I desired to color. His agonizing screams echoed throughout the soundproof room, bringing satisfaction to the Legion. Please, just kill me, he pleaded, but I had other plans. There's no fun in that, I retorted, throwing the bat across the room. I’m starting on the sunrise next, I told him. I use a hand router to make the bright morning sun. When I finished the picture, I hung it on the wall with two meat hooks fastened to chains. My vision lasted four days, and then I fed it to an incinerator at a local dump near my house on the mainland.

AFTER A LONG DAY AT work the following month, I prepared for my cousin, Sandra Stokes, who was coming from Georgia, to spend a whole week with me. I had to ensure everything was in order and that her stay would be comfortable and enjoyable. When the day finally arrived, I headed to the train station to pick her up. As soon as she stepped off the train, I recognized her from the photos she had sent me.