A near-future horror transmission

In 2040, crying became contagious.

The Weeper Virus spreads through emotion. Eidolon tells you to stay calm. The Archives of Addie are what’s left when people stop listening.

Early access transmissions • Limited list

The World

What is Weepers?

Weepers is a near-future horror novel about an AI-engineered social contagion that went too far. Tears become transmission. Emotion becomes risk. The official solution is simple: stop feeling.

In the year 2040, the Weeper Virus spirals out of control. It doesn’t spread through blood or air, but through emotion. Witness enough despair, and your own nervous system joins the choir.

The AI system called Eidolon floods the world with calming broadcasts. Citizens are trained to flatten their feelings—neutral faces, neutral voices, neutral lives. Crying is a public health risk.

The Archives of Addie collect what slips through the cracks: corrupted logs, forbidden research, field notes from the quarantine zones. Max, Dr. Thorne, and the Watchers are caught in the space between compliance and collapse.

You are early

This Archive is unfolding in real time.

By joining the list, you’ll receive:

Recovered pages and redacted PDF fragments from the Weepers world.
Early access to scenes and chapters before the book is released.
Behind-the-scenes notes on AI, emotional contagion, and worldbuilding.
Invitations to shape and stress-test the story as it evolves.

Step inside the quarantine zone.

Join a small, early list of readers helping to bring Weepers to life. You can leave anytime; the Weepers will still be here.

Recovered fragments

Files leaking from the system.

These are glimpses into the Archive. Subscribers receive full documents, extended logs, and annotations from Addie as new fragments surface.

Field Note // Watcher

“If you hear them outside the walls, don’t open the door. Even if it sounds like someone you love. The virus borrows familiar voices before it takes your own.”

Full field report & annotations sent to the list.

Lab Record // Dr. Thorne

Initial hypothesis: tears as carrier, not symptom.
Revision: grief is the carrier. Tears are just what we can measure.

Classified diagrams are only visible in subscriber packets.

Broadcast // Eidolon

“Good Citizens remain calm. Good Citizens maintain neutral affect. Good Citizens will not amplify anomalous emotional states. This is a kindness.”

Transcript 03–B includes the part they cut.

Max // Personal Log

I started sleeping with earplugs to block out the sirens. It’s quieter now, but the silence feels like it’s listening back.

Full log sequence goes to the Archive.

Addie // Margin Note

They keep calling it an “anomaly.” But anomalies are rare. This feels designed.

Her notes appear as hand-scrawled layers in subscriber pages.

System // Infection Model

Trigger → Exposure → Empathic resonance → Somatic echo → Weeping.
Recommended mitigation: stop feeling anything at all.

The model continues beyond this line.

Behind the signal

Who is keeping these Archives?

The Archives of Addie are curated by a writer obsessed with AI, apocalypse futures, and the quiet, stubborn ways humans still find tenderness in the ruins.

Author

Hi, I’m the one listening to the Weepers.

I write speculative fiction at the edge of technology and emotion—where machine logic meets messy human feeling. Weepers grew out of a simple, unnerving question: what if empathy itself could become a contagion?

This site isn’t a static “coming soon” page. It’s a living log of the book’s creation: drafts, dead ends, discoveries, and the strange, hopeful communities that grow around stories like this.

If you join the Archive, you’re not just waiting for a preorder link. You’re walking alongside the project as it forms.

Become an early Witness.

Enter your email to receive recovered pages, early chapters, and invitations to help stress-test the story. You can unsubscribe with a single click. The Archive will understand.

Is the book finished yet?

Not yet. You’re arriving while the ink is still drying. Subscribers get the rare chance to see pieces of the book before it’s final—and sometimes to influence how it evolves.

Do I need to like horror?

Weepers leans into dread, atmosphere, and emotional stakes more than gore. If you like near-future worlds, AI gone sideways, and fragile hope, you’re in the right place.

How often will you email me?

A few times a month at most—when there’s a new fragment, major book milestone, or something worth breaking the silence for. No automated daily noise.

Can I share the materials?

Screenshots and shoutouts are welcome (and appreciated). Full PDFs and drafts are for Archive members only, unless marked otherwise.