Disquiet Gods Audiobook Novels & Stories

He quietly speaks so as not to disturb my line of concentration. The further I walk down the line of shelving the older the books become and the deeper the vibration and thrum become. It echoes through me and my skin prickles with goosebumps. Like a siren's silent song, I hear the whispers of ancient words. “Do you hear it?” I ask Crimson. “I hear it,” and I just catch the frown that covers his expression when the beat of the thrum turns to whispers and then becomes clearer. I stop when the voices are the loudest. Reaching up I pluck a book from the shelf. But the book is plain and when I open the pages, they are blank. The voices still whisper words I don’t understand.

Reality bent and groaned beneath its force. The killing blow was ready. But then—the god laughed. It wasn’t loud. It wasn’t manic. It was soft. Fragile. And utterly horrifying. It was not the laugh of joy, nor defiance—but the shattering of Stillness into something unknowable. A laugh from the mouth of eternity itself, wounded but not gone. A laugh that echoed across the ruined field like a funeral bell, soft and endless. The sound chilled Damien deeper than any frost spell ever had. “You think this is the end, mortal?” the god rasped, voice layered like overlapping whispers, like wind blowing through the cracks of creation. “You have silenced me… but Stillness cannot die. It waits. It watch

He said that they will keep on tormenting lives in Kingstonville and nothing good will come from our country even our leaders, they promise that we shall not have peace for committing a great offense by burning their father's gods Don't mind that talk, the strange voice continued again, let me tell you, that first voice you heard was not a good one, leave those people as well don't buy their ideas just ignore them and serve my I will protect you, guide you in terms of troubles and grant you more powers too Then the voice disappeared as well Jerry was shocked and nervous and he never knew what he will just do this time around. Then he decided to go to bed and rest maybe the god Appollo will s

Once, I stood on its highest spire and promised the stars I’d never come back. Promises. What fragile little lies. The ground trembles beneath me—not from my weight, but from what moves inside me. The Abyss didn’t just give back what I buried. It gave more. Too much. Every heartbeat now is a drumbeat of war, pulsing with power that hums in my teeth, my bones, my blood. The sky listens. The dead listen. And somewhere, far beyond, the gods flinch. You feel it, don’t you? The voice is softer now, no longer the roar of a storm but the hiss of silk over steel.

Julian slammed his hand onto the console. The world went Black. But in the darkness, a single, analog sound began to play. Hiss. Click. Whir. It was the 1977 Cassette Tape. And then, a new voice spoke—a voice that was deep, ancient, and sounded like it was coming from Inside your own head. "Chapter 146: The Reader’s Audit. Warning: By continuing to read, you are consenting to a Physical Transfer of Assets. Please check your pulse. Does it feel... Digital?"

As we approached, we noticed the worry etched on his weathered face, mirroring our own concerns. The old man greeted us with a mix of trepidation and reverence. "Alpha Xavier, Queen Uriah," he began, his voice tinged with concern. "I have felt the disturbance in our realm. The gods are restless, and their anger reverberates through the very fabric of our existence."

My eyes shift down to the book again, and I let out a breath, reading out loud "I was born an echo, a shadow, a hollow. Simultaneously present and absent, here yet elsewhere. I am an irregularity, an anomaly, therefore I am unwanted. There is no place for variations in a creation perfect. Selene forbids this. And so I am deemed unworthy. I, a being of chaos, can not exist in contentment. An emotion as beautiful as happiness I do not deserve, and certainly not the most coveted of our kind- a simple connection of souls." I glance down at Diana breathless and she hops closer to me as I sit cross-legged, back to the shelves. She tilts his head and blinks, dark eyes set in mind. It is as if she w

Vera's POV Why is everything black? My head is throbbing in pain like it's hit by the truck. God! I blinked my eyes open and groaned in pain. "la ucciderò" ( I'll kill her.) I heard a manly voice. "Non è il nostro obiettivo, calmati." (She is not our target, calm down.) Same voice! That woman, she is here. Fuck! They kidnapped me. Who are they and what are they talking about.

Suddenly, just then, the power died, and darkness swallowed the room whole. Clarissa gasped sharply. I felt her hand reach through the dark, pressing against my arm, then sliding up to my chest. She was trembling. Her breath hitched against me, warm and uneven, grounding me in a moment that felt painfully fragile. Static crawled through the air, low at first, then building like a swarm of insects behind the walls. And then the voice came, coming from everywhere all at once. Every wall, every vent, every hidden speaker embedded in the ceiling vibrated with that distorted tone; a voice with no gender, no warmth, no humanity. A voice filtered through too many layers of technology, stripped of s

It was ghost quiet when the killings began. The popping of gunfire accompanied by the terrified shrieks of dying men, women, and children filled the air and reached into the night like a hand calling for aid, or something. But this only brought joy to the outlaws responsible for the sordid acts. However, while these outlaws laughed, scorned, and reveled in the deeds their hands had wrought, they were unaware that they had awakened something damned and hopeless. Something that shouldn't be disturbed in the house of silence, not far from the killing square.