Death Angels Quiet Place Novels & Stories

Then, total darkness. Silence flooded the basement, save for the crackling of sparks and the heavy, ragged breathing of two survivors in the dark. Anji crumpled to the wet floor, his heart fluttering like a bird in a cage, his sight gone, his neural link silent—eerily, blissfully, silent. "Arga?" Anji rasped into the dark. A groan answered him, followed by the clinking of heavy equipment. "Don't... don't make me get up yet. I think I’ve reached my quota for life-threatening hardware today."

Chapter 127: The Vault Below --- The hallway was unnaturally quiet—clean, clinical, almost sterile in its silence. The kind of silence that whispered of secrets. Of things hidden, and things deliberately erased. Sophia moved in a crouch, weapon in hand, her boots barely making a sound against the concrete floor. Elise followed at her flank, scanning the corners, while two tactical agents from Grace’s team covered their rear. The deeper they went into the Nevada facility, the clearer it became: this wasn’t just a research outpost.

Some things don’t end with fire. Some endings arrive with silence. The kind that coats your skin like frost. That makes your breath hitch in your throat even when nothing is choking you. The kind of silence that says someone is watching. That was the silence inside the evac pod as we descended from HALCYON. Wren curled against my side, her eyes open but unseeing, her mind still echoing with frequencies not meant for flesh. I held her tighter than I should have, as if squeezing hard enough could keep her soul tethered to this world.

And by killing you, I dedicate this world to the name of Saytan, I will rule this world. Arin hugged Isla and said that Isla, Don't afraid. close your eyes. And then the Yama came. And Arin and Isla were taken to a safe place. Isla becomes senseless. Arin - Isla , wake up. Isla. Isla - What's going on Arin? One accident after another. Yama - Arin, please don't say anything. Arin - Which will happen. I can't hide anything anymore.

Daniel, my son, I remember that night like it was yesterday. We were fleeing from the entity that Belzebub warned me about - Azrael, the Angel of Death. When he appeared, I shielded your eyes, pleading with you not to look, as he demanded I hand you over. Deli, our former babysitter, tried to help, but Azrael's power was too great. In a desperate attempt to protect you, I blocked his gaze, but he revealed his dark angelic face, letting out a piercing scream that almost threw you and Deli off the bridge.

There was no immediate response on the other end—just muffled, indistinguishable sounds. Assuming it was a bad connection, Joanna turned up the volume, accidentally routing the call through her car's Bluetooth system. Suddenly, the strange sounds amplified, filling the car with unmistakable noises—frantic gasps, the rhythmic thud of bodies colliding, and a woman's moans of ecstasy. Then Addison's voice followed, sultry and demanding."Henley, honey... tell me I'm the one you love the most! If you don't, I won't let you finish!"

“And we can’t talk about it here.” Lissa didn’t ask why. Because whatever this was… She already knew it wasn’t going to wait. Chapter Ten: The River Talks Too They drove in silence. The road to the river was lined with leaning pines and a tangled brush. Lissa gripped the passenger-side door like it might hold her together. Marley hadn’t said a word since they pulled away from the house, but her knuckles were white on the steering wheel. They parked near the edge of the woods, where the trees began to thin, and the river could be heard murmuring beyond the brush.

Obviously thinking something bad was about to happen, Rick quickly shuffled from his spot right next to me, keeping me as close as possible against his body. I hastily grabbed his hand, still warily eyeing the four seemingly young creatures as they gracefully advanced right towards us, their attention still trained on Micah. “Amariel. Finish him,” The white-haired female commanded with a simple flick of her wrist and in the fraction of a second, one of the three angels suddenly stood right in front of him, drawing one of those silvery blades they all usually carry right through Micah’s chest, his violent screams briefly cutting through the air, a bright white light seeping from the wound, ri

​The guest wing was no longer a sanctuary of silence; it was a kill zone, a narrow marble corridor transformed into a theater of visceral retribution. The air was thick and heavy, saturated with the acrid, metallic tang of spent gunpowder and the sharp ozone of the flickering red alarm lights that pulsed like a dying sun. Silas had vanished into the shadows of the corridor with the cowardice of a man who only knows how to lead from behind a wall of human shields, leaving his high-priced mercenaries to do the bleeding and the dying for him. But those men didn't realize they weren't just fighting a vengeful girl and a confused amnesiac—they were fighting the Beast and the Huntress, two souls f

Then, on the downbeat of the next verse— Dante’s silhouette shifts in the wings—too fast. The lights cut out. All of them. Instant black. The sound of my guitar dies in my hands. For a split second, there’s stunned silence. Then screams. High and jagged. Chairs scrape. Someone shouts, “Down!” in Italian. A gunshot cracks through the dark. Loud. Close. The concussion of it hits my chest like a fist. I freeze— And the world tilts into chaos.