Novel & Cerita A Silent Voice Figure

​The room fell into a silence so heavy it felt like it was crushing the furniture. ​I stood by the sofa, my heart hammering. "Dante... if they come back with an army, you can't stop them. You have to give me up." ​Dante turned to me. The "Silent Don" was gone. In his place was a man possessed. ​He walked toward me, his boots heavy on the marble. I backed away until I hit the wall. He caged me in with his arms, his chest heaving against mine. ​He didn't speak. He grabbed my hand and pressed it against his heart. It was beating like a war drum—fast, violent, and erratic.

" Silence fell on the other side of the camera. I gave a wry smile and picked up my tray to continue working. It wasn't until 2:00 am that I dragged my exhausted body out through the bar's front door. The woman approached me again. "Julian, do you need the money because you're in some kind of trouble? I might be able to help you." The moment I looked up, blood suddenly gushed from my nose. A cry of alarm came from behind the camera. "Julian!"

Silence crashes over the street, my breathing becomes ragged, a figure stands before me, terrifyingly tall, hidden beneath a black cloak, the fabric moves despite the complete absence of windand its face remains concealed beneath a hood. Darkness fills the space where features should be, I cannot see eyes or see skin, just can't see anything. Yet I know it is staring directly at me, my body refuses to move as fear roots me to the ground, then it speaks. A woman's voice. Cold, ancient and cruel. "Why should I allow you in, weakling?" The words strike me like a physical blow. My lips part, I try to answer, try to speak, to maybe defend myself but nothing comes out and the pressure from her pre

The grass withered and frost spread outward as it took every step toward them. Nobody could move, they all went still instantly. It was as if the figure froze them at that spot. Then the creature spoke, its voice sounded like multiple voices layered together. The voice sounded like that of a male, female, a young person and an old person... "The blood remembers." The words echoed unnaturally, everywhere went silent.Then the figure smiled or at least everyone thought it smiled, It was difficult to tell because of the hood. "The countdown has begun." And before anyone could react, it vanished into thin air. The silence that followed after felt deafening, nobody spoke for a while.

he weakly uttered as he sniffled softly. Kelvin pulled the birthday boy into a hug. "You're welcome. You're happy, right?" Kinsley nodded vigorously in response. "Good." The older boy chuckled. From a distance, by one of the windows of the school building, someone is gritting his teeth. "Tsk. He's too happy and crying over an effing phone,” he muttered. * * * "The great deaf is here!" One young werewolf announced as Kinsley entered a large room for the monthly meeting of the aspiring hunters, trackers, and warriors, even healers of the pack. The pack members in this group are ages twelve to seventeen, who will soon be given their rank.

Near the window. A tall figure stood in shadow, partially obscured by the curtains. My heart slammed violently against my ribs. I opened my mouth to shout— Nothing came out. Panic surged. I tried to reach for Adam through our bond. Silence. An invisible force pressed gently against my lips, against my limbs, holding me in place without pain yet with undeniable authority. My pulse thundered in my ears. What is this? Who… The figure stepped forward into the faint silver light. Makeh. An amused Makeh.

And then—far below, at the edge of sight— A shape emerged. Tall. Still. Watching. No face. No features. Just presence. Riven swore under his breath. “That’s not scouting. That’s a challenge.” Killian stepped forward, fury radiating from him. “Show yourself!” The figure didn’t move. Instead, the air vibrated. A voice—low, layered, not carried by sound but by intent—rose from the valley and wrapped around them all. “Daughter of silence.” Aria’s breath left her lungs.

Sharp as a scream. And when it moves—when it tilts its head—the suns flicker, as if even they are afraid. “Who—” My voice scrapes out, raw from dust and fear. “What are you?” The figure laughs, low and soft, like chains dragging through water. “I am what was before your gods learned to whisper their names. I am the quiet between the first heartbeat and the last breath.” Great. Cryptic horror with delusions of poetry. Perfect. “You sound like a bad hymn,” I snap, because anger is easier than terror. “Try answering the question.”

It was ironic when my resolve almost melted just because of that voice. “Tskckck, you weird human.” “Wh-who? Who is there?" I twisted my body, making the surrounding water ripple into small waves. “Huh? She just heard our voices.” “It's impossible for a human to hear our voices, tho.” Another voice overrides. “But she just spoke to us, idiot.” “Wh-who are you? I heard you.” I said, suddenly they go silent. I still haven't found where the figures possessing the voices are.

But this time, she noticed that it was in her head. She did not recognize the voice but she somehow felt like she knew who or what was speaking to her. “Who are you?” She asked as she stood to her feet. She was a little bit nervous. “Am I going crazy?” She thought to herself. “I’m Silence, I’m your wolf,” The voice replied clearly. Clary was taken aback. She looked around and proceeded to find somewhere that she could use as shelter. “Why are just speaking to me after so long? Do you know how long I have longed to hear from you?”