Battlefield Of The Mind Audiobook Novels & Stories

Chapter Thirteen—The bridge of peace(3) It was like a child, toying with my ears, my body, my very own mind. The eerie feeling had turned into an inconsolable ache as my body rolled around. It kept on repeating the same words, over and over again, the two males still kept on fighting with their blood sputtering everywhere. “Stop them.” It said. I gasped for air, “I can’t.” “You’re the Luna.” It said again, with a more commanding tone, “Stop them and it ends.”

LILA’S POV The forest was quiet now, almost painfully so. The echoes of the mind battle lingered in my skull, a ringing, heavy reminder that I had survived, yes but barely. My wings drooped, golden light flickering weakly with every exhausted heartbeat. My lungs burned, my muscles trembled, but my mind… my mind felt like a battlefield strewn with memories I couldn’t fully piece together.

The sensation should have steadied her. Instead, the chair listened. Her mark throbbed in time with the hum. Heat spiraled inward, threading down her spine, into her skull. Lights dimmed, then brightened. Something aligned. Something clicked. From somewhere beyond the walls, a recording began. Soft at first. Almost kind. If you can hear this, it means the process has begun. Dr. Hale’s voice slid into her mind sideways, distorted by time and circuitry, smoothed into a teaching tone she hated most of all.

THIRD PERSON’S POV The battlefield stood endlessly before Chandler. It was filled with so much chaos and bloodshed. Fires raged in the distance and warriors let out loud cries as they fought each other. The clash of steel against steel, the sounds of gun shots, the cracking of bones, the loud cries of the wounded, and the echoing sound of war drums filled the air. Chandler stood at the edge of it all, looking at the destruction with a furrowed brow. How had it come to this? How had Maya managed to ignite such a large-scale war?

Time doesn’t feel straight anymore. I push myself off the wall and return to my room. I lock the door and sit on the floor this time, knees to my chest. I don’t want to understand this. I don’t want to feel anything connected to him anymore. But I hear something inside me that isn’t mine. A memory that didn’t come from me. A battlefield. Snow. A wound. Someone shouting his name. I pull in a sharp breath. That memory is real, but I wasn’t there.

I am Zeiah, I grew up thinking that everybody around me is ordinary and I am like them, but that's what I thought. I remembered everything, from the growl of that notorious creature, the slashing of the swords, and the explosion, all of it was clear. I close my eyes, quivering into the ideas which my mind could only bear. How I wish everything were just a nightmare. I let out a deep breath and found myself in the middle of nowhere.

Just a string of sounds filling my head in an attempt to drown out the sound of my own thoughts. So much for the audiobook. Lilliana, you will never be good enough. You will never be a worthy Queen. How will your mate look you in the eye knowing that you are a pathetic excuse for a human being? You are weak. The sound of my chewing prevails through the sound of my earbuds, but not my thoughts. They blend into each other, overloading my brain slowly with the combination of noises. A dull ache takes up residence in my head, throbbing at my temples.

My jaw tightened because, of course, it couldn’t be easy, but El added softly, "I can help you focus." I sucked in a sharp breath, whispered "Please" aloud, and then I obeyed. I forced my eyes shut even as the battlefield roared around me while El guided me through it, slowly, steadily. Breathe in. I inhaled. Breathe out. I exhaled. Again, again, and again, until gradually and painfully, the sharp edges of panic began to dull. I remembered everything: my journey, every betrayal, every loss, and every moment that had dragged me to this exact point. Faces flashed behind my closed eyes—Laura, Peter, Diana, the people in the stands, and the children who didn’t even understand the war being prepa

Isla's POV The battlefield stretched endlessly before me, a grim tapestry of blood and agony. The air was thick with the metallic scent of blood and the relentless sound of cries of the wounded surrounded me. The battlefield was more brutal and unapologetic than I had imagined. Everywhere I turned, there was pain; warriors writhing on the ground, their screams echoing through the chaos. This was carnage. I was engulfed in the harsh reality of war; suffering, death, and heartbreak. The wounded came in waves, their pain etched into their faces. Despite my growing skill at treating injuries, it never felt like enough.

'Mr. Rockwell, are you listening?' I said and stood up from my desk. My cabin was like a medium-sized room with a shelf on the left full of files of my clients. There was another shelf on the right-hand side in the corner which had many books mostly about psychopathy and some books related to calm someone's mind. I mostly recommend that ones to my patients. In the middle of the room was my table, I had one chair on the wall side for me, behind my chair there was a window. A beautiful lawn could be seen from there.