Battlefield Of The Mind Audiobook Novels & Stories

Why wasn’t I hearing anything? Then it hit me. I hadn't heard a single thought from him since the second we'd collided. Normally, people’s minds kicked in right away when someone accidentally got a drink spilled on them. A stream of annoyed, low-level swearing thoughts about the stain, the fabric, and how the night was now officially fucked. But with him, it was just a total, unbroken void. Which should not have been possible. Humans thought constantly. Their brains never shut up. I knew that better than anyone. I had spent years drowning in it, learning how to filter through chaos that never stopped moving.

My vision darkened at the edges. The battle raged on, but the rogues weren’t stopping. More poured from the shadows, endless as the tide. Derek’s jaw clenched. His golden eyes scanned the battlefield. We were losing. I swallowed. “Derek…” His grip tightened around me. “No.” Then, he threw his head back— And howled. --- The Last Resort The sound ripped through the battlefield. A call not for battle— But for retreat. Our warriors heard it. One by one, they pulled back, covering each other as they fought toward the last exit points.

Words fired out at machine-gun speed. "Why is the human looking at me? Does she like me? Does she hate me? Does she like or hate me? Why is she still circling me? "Will she nuzzle me? Can I nuzzle her? Does she like me? Does she hate me? What—" Her thoughts were annoyingly loud and chaotic. I pretended to circle her a few more times, but mentally, I was drowning in her psychic high-speed rambling. Rather than overthinking, I decided to go on the offensive and deploy some cunning tricks.

And again. The sheer volume of the memories became unbearable, a cacophony of joy and grief that threatened to tear his mind apart from the inside out. Until, finally, one single memory rose above the rest, standing tall and terrifyingly vivid amongst the ruins of his mind. The last one. The battlefield. The very same nightmare that had been haunting Ava’s visions.

I look at the vicious rogues charging at us. ‎ ‎The battlefield is no longer just waiting for us. ‎ ‎It is awake. The world explodes into sound as both sides clash, our armies and the rogues colliding. ‎ ‎Screams. Steel. The thunder of paws on soil. The smell of blood is so sharp it burns my throat. ‎ ‎I had thought I was ready for war. I wasn’t. Nothing prepares you for the moment when a thousand hearts beat as one, then stop beating altogether. ‎

I wondered, "When did that change? Was it the day I was diagnosed with stomach cancer? Or was it the day he suddenly woke up with the ability to read minds?" He was convinced that he had mastered the truth and knew all about the darkest side of human nature. He had no idea that it was all a complete inversion of reality. I began to feel lighter. My soul was slowly leaving my tattered body. I saw myself sprawled at the bottom of the cage. I could even see dark red bloodstains at the corners of my lips. My face was ashen, and my eyes were deeply sunken. I was so emaciated that I was essentially just skin and bones.

He watched the space Apollo had occupied, the absence left behind, the slow collapse of that singular dominance from the sky, a vacuum that felt almost audible, as though something vast had been removed and the world had not yet learned how to fill the silence it left. Then the battlefield surged back in around him, not all at once but in layered re-entry, as though reality itself had been briefly displaced and was now reassembling in staggered fragments around his awareness. Sound returned first, not all at once, but in layered fragments: the clash of steel, the guttural cries of soldiers locked in close combat, the sharp, wet exhale of bodies meeting blades, the crackle of lingering flame

Kaelith asked, his voice barely above a whisper. I closed my eyes and reached for the hunger. It responded immediately, spreading through my awareness like ripples in water. I could feel the battlefield now, could sense the life and death happening all around us. Thousands of minds, most of them consumed by fear and violence and the desperate need to survive. And somewhere to the north, a familiar presence. Cold and hard and radiating authority even in the middle of chaos. "That way," I said, pointing. "Half a mile, maybe less."

I tried to run back toward him without thinking, my feet already moving. A rogue landed directly in my path with a vicious snarl, forcing me backward, and I stumbled back. I could still hear him. The distinct sound of his sword cutting through flesh. Rogues screaming. The unmistakable sound of Blood Moon warriors fighting their way toward him, shouting orders. But I couldn’t see him anymore. Panic clawed up my throat, and for one paralyzing second I couldn’t move at all, my whole body frozen in the middle of a battlefield with blood soaking into my shoes.