Dimmed Lights Flicker Novels & Stories

Maybe watching someone (me) dig their own grave deeper and deeper is her idea of premium entertainment. Derek’s jaw flexed—once, twice—like he was physically restraining himself from walking out or giving me a shove into the aforementioned grave. The fluorescent lights buzzed overhead, flickering like they were nervous too. Fine, that may have been my overactive imagination embellishing the scene, but the tension absolutely deserved dramatic lighting. I swallowed. “Okay, so—” “No.” Derek’s voice cut through the air like a blade. It wasn’t loud. It wasn’t shouted.

he suddenly blurted out with a serious look. Axel frowned faintly. “I'm sorry, what?” Leo didn’t look at him, and joined in, “One.” My breath hitched as I quickly moved besides Axel. “Two.” “Leo—” I yelled, not knowing what exactly I should be expecting this time. “Three.” The lights flickered immediately, not once but twice, as if under their command. And then suddenly, the entire system was cut out for some seconds before rebooting. A heavy, suffocating wave of silence filled the room during the process. But thankfully, before I would panic the heck out of my life, the hum of electricity slowly returned into the building, shining down on our current positions.

There was a brief silence on the other end before Mom spoke up with concern. "Isn't your seventh anniversary with Lucas coming up? Shouldn't you stay with him for that special occasion?" I let out a bitter laugh. "That won't be necessary." After hanging up, I booked my flight. At dawn, Lucas pushed open the door to our house and walked in, looking a little worn out. When he saw me sitting in the living room, he smiled and walked over. "I spent the whole night observing the skies. I'm so exhausted," he said.

Each step produces a faint echoing sound as if the room itself mourns its neglected state. Suspended from the ceiling by a frail wire, a lone light bulb flickers intermittently, struggling to ward off the pervasive darkness. Its feeble glow casts eerie shadows, barely illuminating the vastness of the room. The sporadic grating sound it produces adds to the unsettling ambiance, making the room feel even colder and more desolate.

Amidst the joys and cheery celebrations that the others are taking the leisure of, discreet actions in the dark are still evident. The place where the light is absent in the eerie halls are vast and horrid as in one of the rooms of that place, a prison like cell. One can practically see the rattling of rats and the echoes of water dripping in the stone floor. It was eerie, the dimly lit light bulb in the low hanging ceiling was often flickering in and out. There are times that the lights flicker out in the night, leaving the room in the void of darkness.

He looked less like a university student today, wearing a simple henley and jeans, his sleeves rolled up to reveal forearms corded with lean muscle. "Good morning to you too, Aria," he said, turning a screwdriver. "And unlikely. The power to this circuit is cut. I'm rerouting the feed. The motion sensors in the garden were creating a feedback loop. That's why the lights kept flickering in the nursery." I blinked. "You fixed the lights?" "Among other things," he said, climbing down the ladder with fluid grace. He wiped his hands on a rag. "Lucian mentioned Adrian was having trouble sleeping. The strobe effect from the faulty wiring probably wasn't helping."

The elevator doors had just slid shut with their familiar soft chime when the lights flickered once, twice, and then died completely. For a split second, everything was pitch black. Then the emergency backup lights clicked on with a low, reluctant hum, bathing the small metal box in a dim, blood-red glow that made the space feel even smaller than it already was.

The garage light flickers once justonce only like someone flipped a switch upstairs. Then it steadies,But we both heard it,We both felt it someone is still watching And now they know we know….

But as I tear them away to see what the new threat could be, the ice-blue lightning vanishes to leave orange afterimages dancing over my retinas. As the images die, I look up to the source of the lightning. Click! The camera light flickers. It flickers again, then winks out. And the darkness is complete. Darkness falls.

Then, without warning, the lights flickered and went out, plunging us into darkness. I gasped, startled. “Stay close,” Travis murmured, his hand finding mine in the blackness. His touch sent a jolt through me, igniting something I thought had died. As the emergency lights hummed on, casting a dim red glow, I realized that the night was far from over—and that the secrets we both kept were about to unravel in ways neither of us expected. The dim red emergency lights cast eerie shadows on the walls, flickering faintly as if reluctant to fully awaken the room. The sudden blackout was more than just a power failure—it felt like the universe forcing us to confront everything that had been buried b