All The Light We Cannot See A Novel Novels & Stories

We didn't let the darkness win. END OF VOLUME ONE

It didn't take long to pack or to leave the city, not like it was a big city for that matter, but way more sizable than where I came from. Rolling green fields passed by our car and with it came the stench of cow manure. If you stayed in it long enough, you didn't notice the smell, but after being gone so long it was so overpowering I wanted to gag. As I stared, I watched the shadows. That is where I always saw him with his glowing red ember. I wondered what it was. It looked like just a glowing ball of light. Maybe it was an enchanted firefly. Since I was dealing with the unknown here, maybe it was a fairy.

I couldn't see because it was dark. I held that point of light. My brows knitted together because based on my feelings it's like a ballpen with different buttons. When I pressed one, the dot light went out. I pressed it again, it came back and I pressed the button next to it, the light increased so I could see what was around me. I gulped down in realizing that it was a sealed room and it didn't seem to have a door! When I pointed the flashlight at the wall I noticed it was a projector and there's a letter that says, 'Because you didn't use your senses, you didn't realize that Adam was coming to attack you."

he replied, his voice barely above a whisper. Their footsteps echoed softly in the cavernous space, the air thick with anticipation. With each step, the light seemed to grow brighter, its brilliance almost blinding. Yet, despite the overwhelming intensity, Alec and Sasha pressed on, driven by an insatiable curiosity and an unspoken understanding that their journey had led them here for a reason. As they drew closer, the source of the light began to take shape—a towering structure, its architecture unlike anything they had ever seen before. It seemed to shimmer and shift, as if made of pure energy rather than solid matter.

"Only one way to prove that." "Careful, wife." I warned, my voice low and teasing. "I always rise to a challenge." She laughed softly, her gaze falling to the book she’d closed. "Do you know what this book’s about?" I glanced at the title again, pretending to think. "A family, right? Something about poverty and resilience?" She nodded, seeming a bit surprised though she had found the book in the beach house, probably assuming I've never read it. "It’s about overcoming tough beginnings and finding beauty in broken places. It’s sad but also hopeful." Her voice softened and she looked thoughtful.

However, as I neared the staircase, a kid came barreling towards me. In that split second, I tumbled down the stairs. Agony ripped through my belly, and as I stared at the dark red liquid spreading on the floor, darkness closed in. ... Marvin stood in the sterile hospital corridor, staring at a lifeless form under a stark white sheet. He read the doctor's report, each word a leaden weight. He cursed his knowledge of the words, cursed his own feeble strength. He had clung to hope, believing time would heal.

It wasn't just the absence of light—it was a suffocating force, pressing against our skin, seeping into our minds. "Stay close!" I shouted, but my voice was a whisper against the oppressive silence. I reached out blindly, grasping for any sign of my team. A hand found mine—Talon's. His grip was firm, grounding. I felt the others draw near, their presence a small comfort in the overwhelming void. Suddenly, a flicker of light pierced the darkness. Leila had ignited a small flame in her palm, its glow revealing the pale, terrified faces of my team. But the light also revealed something else—figures moving just beyond its reach, their eyes glowing with unnatural light.

he said, and the faint smile that curved his mouth made my skin prickle. "Or perhaps they've already left their mark on our world in ways we can’t yet see. Either way, the tale of Alexei and his family is a reminder that even in the shadows, there is light. And sometimes," he added, almost under his breath, "that light is more dangerous than the darkness." The projector flickered off with a mechanical sigh. The fluorescent lights blinked awake, throwing the hall into a harsh, clinical brightness that made everything—the desks, the scratched floors, the pale faces around me—feel suddenly too real.

This time, I didn’t flinch. The book flared in my hands. Light, bright and white, erupted from it, washing over the forest floor. The shadows were erratic as if it as in pain, if that was even possible. It was twisting and writhing, trying to retreat. The figure screamed too, its voice a mixture of rage and fear. “You cannot—she is not ready—” But the light didn’t stop. It surged through me, through the ground, through the forest itself. And then—silence.

Alas, no matter how gently I tried, the doll was beyond repair. It was not until the next day, when Rebecca walked by my room, that I started to snap out of it. I picked myself up off the floor. I had someone clear out the room. Silently, I moved to the desk, my eyes landing on the dusty family portrait. There they were, Rebecca and Nash. Her smile was so bright that it hurt to look at. Outside, the sky was a menacing shade of gray. I set the photo on fire with a lighter, and I watched in silence as it turned to ash.