It was an ordinary night... or at least, that's what Elliot Crown thought. The sky was overcast, and the wind blew gently through his open window, making the curtains sway like whispering ghosts sharing their secrets. He sat at his computer, headphones on, staring at the vivid colors of a strategy ga he usually won. But tonight, victory wouldn't be what occupied his mind.
Elliot! Dinner's ready! his mother called from downstairs.
He sighed heavily and took off his headphones. Coming, Mom. He trudged down the stairs and sat at the kitchen table as his mother placed a plate of pasta in front of him. He picked up his fork and started eating in silence.
Suddenly...
I hope he eats quickly. I want to finish the dishes before my show starts.
Elliot froze. The voice was clear, like a whisper directly inside his head. He looked up at his mother, who stood at the sink washing a dish. Her lips hadn't moved.
Mom? he asked, his voice uncertain.
She turned around, puzzled. Yes, honey?
Did... did you just say sothing?
No, I was just washing the dishes.
He looks nervous... Did he get into trouble at school?
His heart raced. The voice was back. His mother's thoughts—clear, undeniable.
He pushed his chair back and stood abruptly. I... I'm full. I'm going back to my room.
He dashed upstairs, closed the door, and leaned against it, breathless. This is impossible... absolutely impossible.
But it was real.
He had heard his mother's thoughts.
He tried to calm himself. Maybe I imagined it... Maybe she whispered, and I just didn't notice.
But doubt slithered into his mind like a cold serpent. What if it wasn't imagination?
The next day, at school, he decided to test it.
His friend Mark was waiting by his locker. Elliot approached with a nervous smile. Hey, Mark.
Hey, Elliot. You look pale.
Elliot swallowed. Mark... how old are you?
Sixteen. Why?
Elliot closed his eyes briefly, then opened them and focused on Mark. His na was Mark Hughes, sixteen years old.
I hope he doesn't ask about the math howork... I forgot to do it.
Elliot's eyes widened. The voice was back. Mark's thoughts this ti.
Mark, you didn't do the math howork, did you?
Mark's face went pale. What? How... how did you know that?!
Elliot forced a laugh. Just a guess.
But he knew the truth.
If he knew soone's na and age... he could hear their thoughts.
The rest of the school day beca an experint. He asked classmates their ages, then listened to their thoughts. It worked every ti. It was effortless, terrifying... and thrilling.
When he got ho, he locked his bedroom door and sat on his bed. He could hear people's thoughts. But why? How? He had no idea.
That night, just before he drifted into sleep, a single thought pierced his mind:
If I know their na and age... I know everything.
He smiled to himself.
The next morning, he woke up with a strange exhilaration. Yesterday, he'd gained a power others could only dream of—a power to read minds. All he needed was a na and an age.
He jumped out of bed and stared at himself in the mirror. His brown hair was a ss, and his gray eyes shimred with excitent. I'm... special, he whispered.
Downstairs, his mother was making coffee.
Good morning, Mom.
Morning, Elliot. You seem happy today.
He smiled.
I hope he doesn't get into trouble today.
He nearly laughed out loud. His mother thought of him as a troublemaker. Poor thing... she had no idea her son could read her mind.
He finished breakfast and left for school. There, he felt like a kid in a toy store. Every passing student was a mystery waiting to be solved.
By his locker, he spotted Jason Miller—seventeen, the school's most notorious bully.
Elliot closed his eyes for a second, then opened them and focused on Jason.
I'll ambush Ethan by the back hall today and humiliate him.
Elliot smirked.
He stepped closer and said, loud enough for everyone to hear: Hey, Jason! Heard you're planning to ambush Ethan today by the back hall. That true?
Jason's jaw dropped. What... who told you that?!
Elliot shrugged. Just a hunch.
Students burst into laughter. Jason turned red and stord off. Elliot stood there, heart pounding with triumph.
The day flew by. With every new thought he uncovered, his confidence grew.
That evening, in his room, a plan began to form.
If I can hear their thoughts... I can learn their secrets. And if I know their secrets... I can control them.
The days passed in a blur, but Elliot's life had forever changed. He was no longer just a teenager sitting at the back of the classroom. He was the boy who could hear thoughts.
And the more he listened, the darker those thoughts beca.
One afternoon, he decided to try sothing new.
He sat at a café near school, watching strangers. Most were unfamiliar, so their minds were silent to him. He needed their nas and ages.
The waitress arrived with a notepad. Her natag read: Lina. She was in her twenties, with blue eyes and black hair.
Hi! What can I get you?
Hi, Lina. Just a black coffee, please.
He looks too young for coffee... but he's kinda cute.
Elliot bit his lip to hide his grin. He'd done it. He didn't know her age, but her na was enough to open the door slightly. Now he needed her age.
By the way... how old are you?
She raised an eyebrow. Twenty. Why?
The second she said it, her thoughts flooded into his mind:
The manager asked to work late tonight. Ugh... and that weird guy in the corner keeps staring.
Elliot turned to look.
In the corner sat a man wearing a baseball cap and sunglasses. Sothing about him seed... off.
Elliot couldn't resist. He approached the man with a casual smile.
Hi there. Mind if I ask your na?
The man looked up slowly. Who are you?
Just curious. What's your na?
Jack.
And how old are you, Jack?
The man hesitated, then said, Thirty-five.
Elliot closed his eyes and waited for the rush of thoughts.
Nothing.
His eyes snapped open. Silence. No thoughts. No whispers. Nothing.
I... can't hear you, he whispered, stunned.
The man's lips curled into a cold smile.
So... you're one of them.
Then he stood and left the café, disappearing into the street.
Elliot stood frozen, heart racing.
One of them? he whispered. Them who?
And for the first ti since gaining his power... he felt afraid.
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