Dead Silence Novels & Stories

she pulls my head back up "I'm-I'm not sad," I tell her surprised by my mind and feelings, "At all," I add "Well you never actually feel pain," she says "That's a condition, Mika. I feel emotional pain, or I was supposed to," My eyebrows furrow, "I saw him," I whispered "You saw him? Saw who?" She asks "Ha-Death I mean," I tell her turning to face her "You saw him?" She questioned as shock crossed her face, "I knew you were special," she whispers

“ Meara!” The whispers started again, soft but notable. I tensed, my eyes snapping open. I scanned the field, but there was no one in sight. The sound seemed to come from the tree itself, from the rustling of its leaves. I pressed my palms against the rough bark and closed my eyes, focusing on the whispers. " Come... find... me..." The words were faint but distinct. My heart raced. Was I losing my mind, or was there something more to these whispers? I stood up, brushing the dirt off my jeans, and took a few steps back. The whispers grew louder, more insistent.

“Ugh, fine. If I die in some ancient pit of secrets, I’m blaming you both.” Serena laughed. Not loud. But real. Then morning arrived — not with the sound of birds, but with silence. And the Hollow waited. Serena stepped forward. And the world waited with suspended breath.

And so, my heart beat on, slowly and faintly. - One day, an unwelcome guest came to our little sanctuary. Roanna knelt beside my legs, sobbing and pleading, "Miss Palmer, please… Please tell Scott to talk to me again! I really love him, and I can't live without him!" Mary burst out from the kitchen, waving a kitchen knife. "You shameless b*tch! How dare you show your face?" Roanna raised her chin in defiance, shouted, "Kill me then! I can't live without Scott, so kill me!"

Kelvin’s POV The silence in the mansion wasn’t just quiet, it was suffocating, a heavy void pressing down on my chest, like the walls themselves were closing in. My phone slipped from my fingers, landing with a soft thud on the bed. Its screen faded into blackness—just like her. Diana hadn’t called. Not once. Not even a single text in days. The silence wasn’t just digital anymore; it was crawling beneath my skin, freezing my blood.

"NOT ALIVE. AWARE. A SILENCE THAT IS AWARE OF ITSELF IS THE MOST DANGEROUS THING IN ANY UNIVERSE." The hole expanded another three inches. Two choir members -- ambient resonances from empty shard-universes, Doors Thirty-Seven and Thirty-Eight -- stopped singing. Not by choice. Their frequencies were consumed by the spreading silence, absorbed into the nothing the way heat is absorbed into absolute zero. The choir dropped from one thousand and ten to one thousand and eight. "It is eating the choir," Haley gasped. Her pink eyes were wide with the horror of an Anchor watching her network degrade in real time. "Two voices gone. If it keeps expanding --"

The sky was red with toxic mist, and the ground pulsed like living flesh. "The second is The Whispering Void. A psychological world. It attacks your mind directly, bypassing physical defenses entirely. It shows you your fears, your failures, your worst possible futures, and it makes them feel absolutely real. You'll experience every trauma you've ever suppressed, every nightmare you've tried to forget, every anxiety amplified to unbearable levels. Deadies have been known to go completely, irreversibly insane within minutes of entering. You'll need to cross it in four hours while maintaining your sanity and sense of direction in absolute darkness."

I watched my nine year-old daughter grieve a mother who was still breathing, and I drowned in the silence I was forced to keep. My knees buckled. I slid down the stone wall until I sat on the cold floor, the Ghost-Phone pressed to my chest as though I could somehow transmit my heartbeat through the screen. Mia’s quiet weeping filled the dark room like smoke. “Weakness is a luxury we burned at the gates of Blackwood, Valencia.” The voice sliced through the shadows, low, precise, arctic. I didn’t need to look up to know who stood in the doorway. Silas.

"Victor, what the f**k are these things?" "Nulls," Silas’s voice echoed from the treeline, a hollow, grinding sound that seemed to come from the earth itself. He stood motionless, the darkness pooling at his feet like spilled ink. "They are the absence of life, Victor. You cannot kill what does not exist in your light. Your 'New Order' is built on a sun that is about to go out."

Alan There is a moment between dying and not dying where everything is perfectly quiet. Not the quiet of sleep, not the quiet of a room with the door shut and the world locked out. Something else entirely. Something so deep and complete that calling it quiet felt wrong, felt like the wrong word for a thing that had no word, because it was not the absence of sound…it was the absence of everything, and it was not terrifying the way I had always imagined it would be. It was a relief.