Echoes of the Unseen

By Matthew Riggs

In a small, seemingly abandoned town, two FBI agents—Harding and Kane—uncover a series of strange occurrences linked to a mysterious rift that has torn open the fabric of reality itself. As they delve deeper into the investigation, they find themselves not only battling a cryptic technology but also facing an ancient, otherworldly force determined to break through into their world. With the rift spreading and its effects warping both the physical world and their minds, Harding and Kane must race against time to stop the entity from consuming everything they know, all while confronting the dark truths of their own reality.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Quantum Rift Publishing
• Release date: Mar 2, 2025
• ISBN: 9798230249672

Book preview

Chapter 1: The Call

The phone rang twice before she picked it up. Her fingers closed around the receiver, the cool plastic a sharp contrast to the heat of her skin. She didn’t need to check the caller ID. The urgency in the rhythm of the rings told her everything. It was the Bureau, and it was bad.

Harding, she said, her voice clipped, flat. The tone she always used when she didn’t want anyone to hear the wariness creeping into her chest.

Agent Harding? The voice on the other end was unfamiliar—young, jittery, a new recruit most likely. She could tell from the way he hesitated before speaking, the way his words didn’t quite match the pace of his breath. We’ve got a situation, ma’am. Something strange. We need you to take point on this one.

She didn’t ask what was strange. She could already feel it in her gut, that low hum that told her this wasn’t going to be another run-of-the-mill case. She didn’t want to know yet, but she couldn’t stop herself from asking anyway.

Where?

East of Jackson, Missouri. About fifty miles from the Mississippi. A research facility, something with cutting-edge tech. No contact. The employees... they’re all—well, they’re not themselves. Catatonic, almost. And we’ve got reports of— He stopped, and Harding could hear him breathing, quick and shallow. Of, uh, ghost sightings. People have seen shadows moving through the building. Lights flickering. That kind of thing.

Harding’s lip curled into a half-smile, but it wasn’t from amusement. It was from experience, because she'd heard every kind of story in her years in the Bureau. Most were bullshit, manufactured by people desperate for attention. Ghosts. She could already feel her skepticism forming like a shield.

Ghosts? she repeated, her voice thick with sarcasm. Is that the best we’ve got?

I—yes, ma’am, I know how it sounds, but... we’ve got the bodies, and we’ve got the footage. The local authorities are spooked, and we can’t get anyone to give us any straight answers. We need backup.

She leaned back in her chair, the worn leather creaking under her weight. There was nothing in her view but the blank, white walls of the Bureau’s office, the hum of the fluorescent lights buzzing overhead like a steady, dissonant soundtrack to the unfolding madness.

Stay put, she said, her voice hardening. I’m on my way.

Harding slammed the receiver back into its cradle, her mind already kicking into overdrive. The faint hum of the office noise faded as she stood, her muscles moving instinctively, each step calculated. She grabbed her jacket from the back of her chair, slipping it on with the ease of someone who had done it a thousand times before. Her eyes flicked to the clock on the wall. Eleven forty-five PM. A late night. She had hoped for something quieter, but then again, she didn’t know how to sit still anymore.

She was already out the door and into the night, her car keys cold against her palm. The office was practically deserted, just a few late-night agents hunched over their desks, the stale coffee scent thick in the air. The rest of the world outside was wrapped in shadows, the empty streetlights casting a cold glow on the asphalt as she pushed her way through the heavy glass doors.

Her car was parked just outside. She slid into the driver’s seat, her hands already tight on the wheel, the engine coming to life with a rumble beneath her.

As she sped through the streets, her mind worked on autopilot, filing away the details. A research facility. Employees in a catatonic state. Ghost sightings. The link wasn’t clear yet, but the feeling was there—a cold prickling at the back of her neck. She wasn’t one for superstition, but she knew what she was getting into. And it wasn’t going to be clean. It never was.

The headlights cut through the darkness, the familiar road signs flashing by in a blur. It would be a four-hour drive, maybe less if the weather held. She would need all the time she could get.

As the miles stretched on, her thoughts turned to the rest of the case. The description of the victims didn’t sit right with her. Catatonic? She had seen victims of shock, of trauma, but something about the way the call had been phrased made it sound... wrong. More like they were in a state that was beyond shock. Something had locked them out of their own heads. Had they been exposed to something? Some kind of weapon? She pushed the thought aside. She wasn’t going to jump to conclusions. Not yet. Not when she didn’t have enough to go on.

But then there was the ghost talk. That pulled at something deeper, something she wasn’t sure she wanted to acknowledge. She’d been around long enough to know that there were things out there that didn’t fit into her neat, logical boxes. But she’d made her peace with it. She had to. The world didn’t make sense. It never had.

She shifted gears, focusing on the road ahead. She would get there first, see the evidence for herself, and sort through the mess. No one else was going to find the answers. That’s what she did.

Her thoughts broke when the phone rang again.

Harding.

Agent Harding, the voice said again, more anxious this time. There’s been another report. Same facility. The power went out—completely. It’s... it’s like they’re trapped in there. There’s something else going on.

Trapped? Harding’s voice was tight now, the words not quite making sense. What do you mean?

We’ve got people on-site—local cops. They said the windows... they don’t open. They’ve tried everything. It’s like the building itself... won’t let them out.

Her grip tightened on the wheel. She pushed the pedal harder, her car roaring in response, the headlights blinding in the dark as the road blurred around her. The night was cold, too cold. Every inch of her senses were attuned now, her body instinctively preparing for the unknown.

Something was waiting for her. Something she wasn’t prepared for, no matter how many cases she had worked.

The call had come in. And now, she had no choice but to answer.

Chapter 2: The Lab

The town of Jackson was asleep. The only sounds were the hum of distant traffic and the occasional rush of wind through the skeletal trees. The research facility loomed ahead, its stark, concrete walls rising like an uninviting fortress against the heavy darkness of the night. Harding’s car slid into the gravel parking lot with a soft crunch. The building stretched wide, industrial—its lights dimmed, flickering like a heartbeat too slow. She killed the engine, the sudden silence oppressive in the air. For a moment, the world outside felt too still, too quiet.

She sat in the car for a beat, watching the dark windows of the lab. She could feel the weight of something in the air, something wrong, though she couldn’t name it. A tightening in her chest, a subtle discomfort crawling under her skin. She exhaled, shoving it down. The chill of the night seeped into her bones, and her jacket wasn’t nearly enough. Still, she couldn’t afford to waste time.

The phone buzzed in her pocket, breaking the stillness.

Harding, she snapped, already stepping out of the car, her boots crunching on the gravel as she moved toward the front entrance.

Agent Harding, this is Lieutenant Kane, a sharp voice crackled over the line. We’ve got a situation inside. I—well, I’m not sure how to explain it. The locals are getting... spooked. You need to see it for yourself.

Harding glanced at the locked entrance, the heavy steel doors marked with a security badge. There were no obvious signs of forced entry, but the silence of the place felt wrong, like it was holding its breath. We’re on our way in. Where are you?

The main security office, Kane replied. We’ve secured the perimeter. But... this isn’t something you can just explain away.

Her pulse quickened. She hung up without