Disturbing Book Iceberg Novels & Stories

I muttered and smoothed the silk over my hips, but Ethan just stood there looking at the floor numbers. "Icebergs are usually underwater, Anya," Ethan said and his voice was low as he watched the light blink, "You don't see them until it's too late and by then the hull is already ripped open." He hit the button for the garage and I thought about the man waiting in the car who looked at me like he wanted to ruin me. Ethan was right about one thing because something was definitely under the surface, but I didn't think he and I were looking at the same iceberg at all.

"It’s not the ice shifting. It’s a broadcast. A low-frequency loop. It sounds like... breathing." Aradaa stared at the horizon. A jagged shape loomed through the bruised fog. A research station carved directly into a drifting iceberg. It shouldn't have been there. It wasn't on any Syndicate map. "Bring us alongside, Kaelor! We’re following that distress ping!"

It looked professional enough. Was he not a voice actor? Why was he doing live-streaming as well? With furrowed eyebrows, I scanned the room… before I noticed something mortifying. I was so disgusted that I almost hurled. That sick mongrel had gone through my trash. Disgusting! In a small drawer in the corner, I found a lot of tiny things belonging to me: hair ties, mugs that I have used, small combs, and nail clippers. I did not even remember when I lost them.

“You should write a manual: How to Survive the Ice King. You would make a fortune. Jason chuckled, the tension easing slightly. But as he headed toward the lab to track down the test results, he couldn’t shake the feeling that there was more to Vincent Maloney than the cold exterior he so carefully maintained. --- Author’s Note: What do you think Vincent is hiding behind his icy demeanor? Share your thoughts below.

Just… not right. My left skate feels heavier. My right blade feels like it’s not sitting flush. Every push feels uneven, like the ice is tilting under me. I try to shake it off. Maybe I’m tired. Maybe I’m overthinking. Maybe I’m still rattled from everything going on. I glide into a warm‑up circle, but the uneasiness only grows. My edges aren’t catching the way they should. My balance feels off‑center.

Everything. I turn without a word and skate off. But I can still feel it. The almost. The almost that shouldn’t have happened. — Back at the hotel, the problem is still waiting. One bed. One room. One very bad idea. I drop onto the edge of the mattress, staring at the floor. “This is stupid,” I mutter. “Agreed.” I glance up. Shakes is leaning against the wall now, arms crossed, watching me. Too closely. “Then fix it.”

Frustrated, I leave the library, leaving the three books I had finished and the fourth I have left halfway through, I take it with me, promising not to get so lost in reading that I forget to sleep. When I come out, the whole place looked like a hospital without light, on my way to the morgue. I could even feel the coldness. You could tell that the iceberg I have as a husband, had walked here, you could feel the snowflakes around. "I'll go eat before the iceberg comes back" he muttered walking towards the dining room. That's when I see the source of the cold and how everyone is frozen, moving only on his command. It looks like a wake, not a dining room.

A huge iceberg appeared in the void, almost blocking the sunlight in the sky. From top to bottom, Little Apple stood on the iceberg with a stern look. Sannuit and Dragon swung their swords with all their strength, and the sword radiance was shocking. However, the falling speed of the iceberg was too fast. with only one corner cut off, the iceberg came crashing down. The picture froze for a moment. Little Apple stood on the iceberg, like an honorable god. Dragon and Sannuit each stretched out a palm to resist the iceberg. The iceberg kept melting and dripping.

Dinners at her apartment, careful about which restaurants we risked in public, long mornings that stretched later than either of us intended because neither of us had anywhere urgent to be. “This is dangerous,” she said one morning, still in bed, sunlight cutting across the room in a way that made the whole apartment feel warmer than it probably was. “How easy this feels. I keep waiting for my instincts to kick in and remind me why we’re supposed to be careful.” “Maybe easy isn’t the enemy this time.” “Maybe. Or maybe easy is exactly what gets people caught.” •

The shocking physical scene taking place right in front of my face makes my mind even more certain that my vessel is perhaps still trapped inside a terrible nightmare and has not actually woken up on the ice yet. "Your sleepy eyes are finally awake?" The specific asset who spoke those smug words tracks as Roger Goldstein’s young niece.