I beheld a vision of a frozen lake. The winter's wind sweeps from the surface of the frigid ice. And I was bathed with chill. I hear the whispers that rode with the wind. Oh what bitter whispers! These whispers are cursed! It will cause death to any soul that hears it. Eternal death. Death that will send one to the forgotten corner of the universe. To oblivion.

I know a man who was curse inflicted by these whispers. And he drops to the ground, unaware of the disease that slowly creeped through his veins. His flesh slowly rots. He turns to the light where I saw his face. I just weep at his pain for I have not the cure. He is beyond my grasp and near to the talons of death.

Then the wind stopped blowing. So did the whispers. And then a hideous siren appeared before me. The face of the cursed whispers appeared before me. I loathed her. And I wish for her unexistence.