Audiobooks For Soul Novels & Stories

Yet, another part of him didn't want to know the reality of why he was lying in a hospital bed and couldn't come back, refusing to open up the memories buried deep within. Henry’s soul had torn apart in the middle. Blurry images and screaming voices. Loud gunshot… ‘Why?’ ‘....etter die….’ ‘.....on’t leave m…’ ‘...please…’

"I am my genius father. You are so slender, so elegant. I am so lucky to have a thoughtful father like you. I'm glad you're my father. I'm glad I'm your daughter. I'll kiss you when you come, and it's huge!" He quickly stood up and threw everything on the table to the floor. He still wasn't dead! Again he succumbed to his helplessness! Even when he killed his daughter with his own hands, he had never been this helpless... The fire inside him would not go out no matter what he did. Because he knew that only the last thing called death could put out that fire. Only those who were not helpless would do it. That fire in the helpless would burn until death, and it would burn like hell... Just lik

I had taken Audrey's hand and started running, it was funny how I thought we had escaped and suddenly she dropped down beside me. Time seemed to slow down as I watched blood seeping out of her head, I just stood there like my brain had gone on lockdown watching as she died. All I knew was that I was suddenly pulled into a car and later I found myself at the institution again but I still couldn't focus on anything apart from the fact that Audrey was dead just like I took people's lives, she was taken from me. -- "What do you think is wrong with her? She gets like this after a mission and it's getting worse".

I was feeling the pain of the sprinkles of holy water being thrown at me, it's like glass cutting through my flesh. I was wailing with pain as every words written in that stupid bible cuts my insides, I can feel my bile rising up my stomach as I vomit brownish green fluids out. I can feel myself weakening. It's as if my soul is being cast out of Cassidy's body.

The air crackled with the energy of accumulated knowledge, and the scent of aging parchment filled their senses. Row upon row of ancient tomes lined the shelves, their spines bearing the weight of forgotten stories. As the pack members carefully selected books, the whispers of the past danced in their ears, beckoning them to discover the truths hidden within. Rachel immersed herself in a book that revealed the ancient migration patterns of creatures long gone, tears of both joy and sorrow streaming down her face. She felt connected to the spirits of those who came before, their journeys echoing through her own soul. Sarah found a volume that chronicled the lost art of communication with the

I stopped at the library door and smiled to myself. ‘Books are better than people. Books don’t hate on you for something you didn’t do.’ I pushed the door open and breathed in the wonderful smell of books. ‘Paradise.’ I strolled to the shelves and scanned through the books, reading their names off their spines. ‘It seems Dante wasn’t joking when he said half of his library was filled horrors.’ A book caught my eye, and I pulled it from the others. “Bone and Souls by B. Brian.” I read the name aloud and skimmed through the description behind it. “This seems interesting.”

I hoped for no disruptions, especially from turds who thought it was a good time to hit on me during this sacred time. I took out my book that was tucked inside the waistline of my pants. It’s a dark romance I’ve been reading since the summer. I grabbed my phone from my back pocket and my earbuds from my front pocket and played, Don’t Leave Me by Blackstreet. I was finally in my inner world. This is my calm and quiet. Alone. A normality that made sense to me.

I yelp as it ricochets off the temple walls, barely missing one of the Elders before shattering into silver dust. “Oops,” I mutter, shaking out my hands. “That one had a temper.” I look around but nobody looks the least bit humoured. Later then. A different Elder, one with eyes like polished moonstone, steps forward. “No focus. You are reaching without listening.” “I was listening-” “Not with your ears. With your soul.” Is it me or they are overly dramatic? I bite back a sarcastic reply and nod. “Right. Soul-listening. Got it.”

A free spirit like me cannot stay here any longer, but it lacks money and I do not have a profession, but I am almost sure that you have A soul like mine that wants to fly and its wings got clipped so many times, and yet I can stay until I help you what you want You can come here every day and take whatever you want from these books you will not find them anywhere else, and know, my friend, that there is nothing prevents you from flying but you, otherwise no obstacle a passionate soul like you can not overcome. Bella's face blushed, and a shiver spread in her soul that she had never experienced before. She was not used to anyone believing in her, but she quickly pulled herself together and a

🕊️ Continuing into Part 65—five chapters from seventy, and the threads are glowing. In this chapter, sound becomes seed. Inspired by Ren’s echo installation, a podcaster from Manila reaches out with a proposal: to turn these quiet recordings into a new kind of series—not for fame, but for healing. What blooms is a podcast built not on stories, but on breath. The message arrived with a recording attached. Just breathing. One minute. Soft inhales. A slow exhale.