Calling Siren Head Novels & Stories

"She’s breathing. Barely." She attempts to lean down further to confirm the strength of the heartbeat when she stops. Her body goes rigid. She slowly lifts her head, her neck straining as she listens attentively to the wind. At first, it’s just the crackle of the flames. Then, a low, rising wail begins to cut through the roar of the fire. Wail. Wail. Wail. Vivian’s mouth drops open, her eyes turning wild and frantic. A siren. Not one, but several.

I hang up the upcoming call on my phone for the umpteenth time this morning before I decide to just switch it off. Today's got to be perfect. I can't afford distractions. I ignore the weird feeling laced with that word. After taking a few breaths, I finally step out of my car and make my way into the giant building I've googled too many times. It looks even better in person. "Hi how are you doing?"

Tears trickled down her eyes but was wash away by the water. "What should I do? Kill you or use you to lure the Alpha?" The Siren who's name is Reina place her hand on her chin as if in thoughts. "How do I lure him in when my singing doesn't affect him and the others who are in that boat? Ahh, I'll give you the chance to breath and draw his attention. Is that a good plan?" Catrina couldn't say a word, she felt weak. Her hands stopped moving and she was about giving up when Reina blow a bubble from her mouth and place it on her head, the bubble cover her head like a helmet.

There was a landline in Dax's bedroom-I'd seen it when we toured the house-now I just had to figure out how to get to it without alerting him. With my ear pressed against the door, I listened for sounds of activity on the other side. When I heard nothing but silence, I dared to crack, and then open it and move down the hall in silence. The shower ran in his bathroom, but there was no way he could have been in there long. Inhaling deeply, I steeled my resolve, crossed the floor, and picked up the phone. Sutton was my best bet-uber protective and would die trying to kick Dax's ass if she thought he had hurt me in any way.

They had moved swiftly until it was my turn, they took me out of the box to show the audience, it was some sort of obnoxious crowd because they wore those long dresses and suits Avisa hates so much. “Yes, ladies and gentlemen, a real-life siren here with us,” the commentator says, I could feel my power return, seems they can’t surpass my power anymore. I had looked around to find a way out, but an angry face locked his eyes with me as a warning. “So, ladies and gentlemen, here is the main event,” the other man says, “a siren, we will start bidding at……” He doesn’t finish his sentence because he is attacked, I look in awe as the most beautiful pair of purple eyes lay eyes on me while tearing

"Lor‌en‍zo, this is a crime scene. If⁠ we are found here..." W⁠H‌OOP-WHO‍OP. The sound of a siren cut thro‍ugh the air. Then⁠ an‌other. And another. Blue l​ights flashed through the cracks i⁠n the st‍one walls. Ti‌res sc‍ree⁠ched on th​e gravel o​ut⁠side. "Carabinie‍ri!" a voice b⁠oome‍d f​rom a mega‌phone.‍ "Co⁠me o​ut with your hands up! We have the building​ surrounded!"​

"You did that? The head of IT is still in the elevator and you already fixed the reroute?" "It’s just a basic override protocol and I saw the alert on my monitor before the main sirens went off, so I figured it was better to just click a few buttons than to let the whole system melt down while we waited for a technician," I replied, and I felt a disgusting surge of nausea when he stepped closer and let his hand brush against my shoulder as he took the tablet from me.

The world outside the window was starting to blur and swim at the edges. Soren drove smoothly, calmly, like he was on his way to pick up groceries. He glanced in the rearview mirror, his eyes meeting Ian’s glassy ones. “Keep pressure, Ian,” Soren said, his voice disturbingly normal. “Don’t you go to sleep on me. I need you awake for this. You have to see it.” Then, the car’s screen lit up. MILLER. Soren tapped the answer button on the steering wheel. “Yeah.”

​"Lora—" ​The sharp, rhythmic wail of a police siren suddenly cut through the night outside, its red and blue lights flashing against the frosted glass of the heavy oak doors. My head snapped toward the entrance, then turned back to Carson. I looked at him one last time, slowly shaking my head, letting him see the utter disgust and absolute contempt in my eyes.

He was slumped at the bottom of what looked—and smelled—like a well. A dry one, thankfully. He blinked. Blood dripped into his eye. Cold stone pressed against his back. And when he tried to move— A bolt of pain split his head in two. “Siri,” he rasped. “Call Benita Bellington.” Nothing. He tried again. “Siri. Call Kent.” Silence. The signal must be gone. Or the phone was broken. Or maybe Ben had smashed it after cracking his skull. Cillian dropped his head back against the wall with a groan.