Can You Feel The Silence Novels & Stories

Cosmically The void itself bends inward around its attention. And suddenly A single crack appears across absolute silence My eyes widen. Because that crack Sounds like a heartbeat One slow. Ancient. Impossible beat. BOOM Reality shakes violently. The First Silence goes completely still. Then the voice whispers: “What is this feeling?” And somewhere deep inside existence Something ancient begins waking up emotionally

The white-out did not fade into the familiar darkness of space. It dissolved into a terrifying, crystalline stillness. When I opened my eyes, the first thing I felt was the silence. It wasn't the "Quiet" of Nevan’s Shield or the digital hush of a severed server. It was the absolute, crushing silence of a place where light had never traveled and sound had no medium.

The absolute absence of everything, including the concept of absence. "It is a Silence," the Utterance whispered in Jack's mind, and the ancient consciousness's voice carried a terror that Jack had never heard from it. Not even when facing the Devourer. Not even when meeting the Gravedigger. The silence that exists when a song ends. The pause between notes. It has always been there, between every sound the choir makes. We never noticed it because it was small. But the choir grew too loud. It woke the spaces between the music.

The silence came like a held breath, silver noticed it when she woke. She lay still beneath the furs, eyes open, waiting for the familiar brush of sound along the edges of her thoughts. The whispers had become a constant companion over the past weeks, unwelcome but predictable. They curled through her mind at odd hours, pressed into her insecurities, named her fractures with cruel intimacy. This morning, there was nothing, no murmur or presence. Her chest tightened. She sat up slowly, pressing two fingers to her temple as if she could coax the sound back. The quiet stretched, deep and unnatural, like a forest emptied of birds, it was too still.

she smiled genuinely making me heart warm up to her. I mastered up a small smile and went inside, I felt my anxiety pipe up and I nodded at them in acknowledgment. One good thing about my family is that they all are comfortable with my silence. Apart from my parents no one knows that I can speak again and no one ever forced me to either. It's better this way. Not having to explain anything to anyone. Staying in my own mind, even though it can be harmful sometimes I don't care. "I'm literally stinking and exhausted right now" I wanted to groan but smiled at what Malaika was saying. She was a nice girl with an even beautiful accent. Her Urdu is to die for, god. That's my new inspiration right

SERENA'S POV The whispers have stopped abruptly, leaving behind a vacuum of sound that feels more threatening than the voices themselves. But the air still trembles with unease, the silence pressing against my skin like invisible fingers searching for weakness. I can feel the weight of it—the kind of oppressive stillness that sinks into your bones and settles there, making you feel like you're the only thing left alive in a world that's suddenly forgotten how to breathe. The quiet has substance, a presence that fills my lungs with each desperate inhale.

"Do you ever stop wandering this house like a ghost?" She leaned against the doorframe. "Maybe I am a ghost. I feel like one." He lifted his gaze. Something flickered across his face guilt, maybe, or something older. "Why did you come in here?" "I don’t know," she admitted. "Maybe I just wanted to be where the silence wasn’t so heavy." Gabriel leaned back in his chair. "It’s not silence that hurts, Lucy. It’s what fills it." "Then tell me what’s filling yours."

Aria Vale had learned, over the years, that silence was not the same as emptiness. People who had never lost their hearing always assumed the two were related. They were not. Silence had texture. It had dimensions that shifted depending on the hour, the season, the quality of light coming through a window. On certain mornings, when the city outside her apartment moved in that slow, amber way of early autumn, silence felt almost like a companion — familiar, unhurried, asking nothing of her.

Elaras POV ​No one spoke after that. ​Not because there was nothing to say. ​Because the space didn’t feel like it would allow it. ​The silence inside the temple wasn’t empty, it pressed in from all sides, thick and deliberate, like even sound had to move carefully here, like it had to be allowed before it could exist. I could still feel it deep in my chest, but this time it wasn’t the pull from earlier - it was something quieter, something watching and waiting.

So close Luna could feel the vibration in her chest. Then silence. Worse than the noise. Because silence meant waiting. Planning. Attacking.