Blink Morse Code Novels & Stories

I knew from then he couldn't understand Russian. So I used morse code to communicate to him. I placed my hand on his knee, he stilled so I rubbed it and drew a dash followed by three taps. Then one tap, a dash, tap, dash, tap, tap, dash, dash, tap, dash, dash, tap, dash, tap, dash, tap, and tap. It spelled out 'betrayal'. He glanced at me, then I directed my focus to Santiago's two bodyguards. He blinked, I knew it was an 'I understood' blink. I tapped his leg once more signaling him to get ready because it would get bloody. He tapped his glass saying he agrees.

The signal gauge flickered once—dead, alive, dead again. We moved closer. The plaza where the survivors had gathered last night was almost empty now; most had gone to scavenge. The sky was warming to gold. I crouched beside a burnt drone carcass and pressed the receiver against its shell. The static roared to life, then settled into a rhythmic pulse. Lena’s breath caught. “That’s a pattern.” I nodded slowly. “Morse. But not random.” “What does it say?” I translated in my head. A-D-R-I-A-N.

For a moment, only static filled the air. Then a faint pulse beneath the pulse. Ashley leaned in, "That's...that's Morse code," Ava scrambled for a paper, quickly translating the beats and code. Her eyes widened. "It's a number...211.7 FM." Gael immediately turned the frequency to the number...211.7. The ground shuddered. They looked around and saw the root of an enormous tree shift, revealing a hidden stone doorway at its base. The four of them exchanged glances.

He was holding an old, hand-cranked radio transmitter that was spitting out a mechanical Morse code from the north. "𝗠𝗮𝘆𝗮," Vane said, his expensive suit soaked with salt-rain as he stumbled out onto the concrete."𝗧𝗵𝗲 𝗰𝗼𝗱𝗲 𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗸𝗲𝗱. 𝗜𝘁 𝗵𝗶𝘁 𝗭𝘂𝗿𝗶𝗰𝗵. 𝗜𝘁 𝗵𝗶𝘁 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗴𝗹𝗼𝗯𝗮𝗹 𝗴𝗿𝗶𝗱. 𝗕𝘂𝘁 𝗶𝘁 𝗱𝗶𝗱𝗻'𝘁 𝗷𝘂𝘀𝘁 𝗿𝗲𝘀𝗲𝘁 𝘁�

His father hadn’t talked to her for nearly a month… and though there were a few messages here and there, that wasn’t what caught his eye. ‘It’s over. Please don’t use the kids as an excuse to appear before me again. Maison won’t miss you, nor will he need you. Please don’t contact him again. C’ ‘Got it. I apologize for the inconvenience. C’ …Both messages had ended with a ‘C’ at the end. Though ordinary people would’ve assumed that they were simply typos, those who dealt with computers would definitely understand that the ‘C’ was an error code. To be more precise, there were issues with the messages during the transmission process!

He stretched out his slender hand and took out the document, which he had tossed into the drawer earlier. The paper was densely filled with characters, punctuation, numbers, etc. Ordinary people would have thought they were looking at a chaotic text, but this message was written in a secretive Morse Code which only a select few could understand. If the message was translated, the words written on the paper would be— [The missing person case in Starksholm is of great importance. Lord of Chaos, I’m hoping you can help!] Harry glimpsed through the paper and slowly threw that document into the shredder.

The weight of this question hung heavy in the depths of Tritan's thoughts, but before he could fully formulate his own conclusions, he instinctively began to click out a message to Finrir in MerTongue, a complex language of clicks and echoes. The clicks reverberated through the water, spelling out the words "W-A-I-T!" in a rhythmic pattern akin to Morse code. It was a desperate plea for Finrir's attention, urging him to pause and allow Tritan the opportunity to process his own emotions and thoughts. Simultaneously, Tritan's trembling hands continued to sign in Aquasign, hoping that Finrir was looking his way and could discern the sincerity in his gestures.

[Wait… am I the only one who thinks the way William clicks his pen is weird? [Who clicks their pen that much during a test?] [Even if he doesn't care about the noise, doesn't it bother everyone else in the room?] [Hang on… could that be Morse code or something?] Once that idea was out there, viewers quickly started looking at it through that lens. Before long, a few self-proclaimed decoding experts confirmed it. [This is a signal based on Morse code.] [Way more efficient than regular Morse code, too.] [But that's not the point—the point is, doesn't this mean this "top scorer" cheated?]

Vivienne rewound a few seconds and let it play again, and this time Elara saw it too, Jonathan's fingers, resting on the table in front of him, tapping three times in a slow, deliberate rhythm before he continued speaking. "That's not nerves," Isaac said. "That's a pattern." They rewound it again. The tapping repeated, identical each time, three short taps followed by a pause, then a longer sequence Elara hadn't caught the first time through. Vivienne grabbed a notepad, watching it a third time, translating the rhythm carefully onto paper. "It's Morse," she said finally, her pen going still. "He's spelling something out while he talks. Hiding it in plain sight."