What if the one thing that made you human was stolen-and used to destroy you?
In the fog-choked town of Durness Bay, voices are vanishing.
Not metaphorically. Not in grief or fear. Literally-gone.
People who once spoke freely now sit in silence, their mouths open but useless, as if the very sound of them has been erased. A once-thriving community reduced to murmurs, whistles, and static.
Marla Dane, an investigative journalist known for chasing hoaxes and fringe phenomena, arrives to cover what she assumes is another small-town panic. She expects superstition. Urban legend. Maybe something tragic-but explainable.
What she finds is something else entirely.
A puppet theater that should be long abandoned flickers to life at night. A wooden dummy walks without strings, and speaks in voices it has stolen-not mimicked, not faked, but taken. Each word it utters is a wound in someone else's life.
And the worst part?
It learns her voice next.
After attending a secret performance, Marla wakes up unable to speak. Her voice has been captured. Trapped inside a creature known only as The Collector-a ventriloquist's dummy whose twisted creator, the reclusive and obsessed Silas Grin, performs in darkness to no audience but himself... and those he silences.
But The Collector doesn't stop with voices. It digs deeper. It relives your worst memories. It turns your most private shame into performance. And it doesn't just want to speak as you-it wants to speak better than you ever did.
Now voiceless, Marla must survive a town that's already lost its will to scream. With the help of Rina Caldwell, a speech therapist whose own sister fell victim to the curse, Marla begins to uncover a long-buried history of failed rituals, obsessive stagecraft, and a voice that should never have been heard.
Together, they build a new language-without sound-to fight an enemy that performs through mimicry and memory. But every performance draws the Collector closer to perfection. And every person who listens becomes part of the audience... whether they realize it or not.
In a final act of rebellion, Marla agrees to a second performance-but this time on her terms. As the curtain rises, the dummy begins to fracture. Truth and illusion collapse. The line between voice, identity, and soul is severed.
But even after the tapes burn and the stage collapses, one question remains:
If your voice can be taken... what's left of you?