And The Cracks Begin To Show Novels & Stories

He takes a breath— then pushes. Nothing happens. For a second. Then— a crack. Small. But real. “Again,” he mutters. The structure shakes violently as the thing behind us slams into something. The walls ripple. Dust rains down. “Leon—now would be great!” I shout. “I’m working on it!” He pushes again— harder this time— and the crack widens. “Almost—” Another impact. Closer. The sound of metal screaming under pressure. It’s coming.

I wanted him to see that I was still fighting, even if I was falling apart. I felt the first crack in my heart. It was deep and sharp. I knew I couldn't keep this up much longer

Not much but certainly not enough. I pressed the plate sideways now and the rivet gave a small sign of weakness. I pressed again. And the ceiling crack was visible from here, the way it was always visible. It started small at the left corner and widening as it moved toward the centre and splitting into two smaller lines before it reached the fixture.

It arrived on a Tuesday evening six days after the Thursday conversation and I did not see it coming. That was the thing about the crack — not a sudden break, not a dramatic fracture. A crack. The kind that started small and was easy to miss if you were not looking at the right angle in the right light, and by the time you noticed it the damage was already done. It started with a phone call Dante took in the study at eight in the evening.

This isn’t a crack. It’s the first fracture. And if she’s right? Everything I’ve clung to is about to shatter.

"That's where it starts." The forest shifted beneath their feet. The roots moved. The trees swayed in unison. The sky above seemed to darken. And the moon... Cracked. A jagged fracture spread across its surface. Thin at first. Then deeper. The forest recoiled, its pulse turning frantic. The crack widened. From the fracture, a shadow bled into the night. It spread like ink across the sky, blotting out the stars. Eli stepped closer to Lyla. "What the hell is that?"

The crack appeared on the seventh day. It was small at first—a hairline fracture in the stone floor of the great hall, near the platform where we had been mated. The pack noticed it, but no one thought much of it. The manor was old. The stones settled. Winters cracked the foundations. Springs healed them. But by the next morning, the crack had grown.

The crack spread. It moved slowly, relentlessly, weaving across the pitch-black surface like a fracture in fragile glass, like a sudden wound in absolute certainty, or like the very first ray of sunlight piercing through an endless, suffocating night. The First Hunger stared at it, utterly paralyzed, unable to believe what it was seeing. For billions of years, its existence had been absolute, certain, unquestioned, and unchallenged. Now, for the first time since the dawn of reality, it doubted.

They fell to their feet as the ground shook more and more. Black and grey clouds covered their heads, making everywhere and their vision darken by twentyfold. They couldn’t see well but the bolts of thunder and the flashes of lightning revealed a crack in the ground. It was small at first until it began to break and grow bigger. The crack began to cut and become wider. They screamed, running from the direction of the crack but it was as if the crack was following them. They ran, hoping the crack would stop as they were running and screaming until...they all hit something.

He chanted in a whisper, and we watched as the orb began to crack. "wow," I said under my breath and watched as light broke forth from one of the cracks. "very powerful magick in here," Thorne said after some moments passed. He opened his eyes and looked at the cracked orb. The light that had shone forth a moment ago had receded, but the orb looked a bit burned. Like some of the life in it from a moment ago had died away. "So what, has a part of him died? Is that what the cracks mean?" I asked, my eyes cracked up, and then I looked up at Thorne.