Eric Quiet Place: Day One Novels & Stories

The blood had nearly stopped flowing. The position of his right hand was strange; his fingers curled as if trying to grasp something. I crouched down. In his open left hand, written crookedly in blood, was a single word: "Run". 02:14. One minute left. 02:15 came. Nothing happened. I was still alive. "Substitute death successful. Eric Dawson was killed at 2:14 in Parking Lot C. Remaining loop time: 48 hours. "Go to Parking Lot C. There’s something for you."

The only light came from a single, dim amber sconce on the wall. Silas crowded me backward until my spine hit the cool, polished wood of the door. He trapped me there, planting his large hands flat against the door on either side of my head. He was leaning in so close that the crisp, white fabric of his tuxedo shirt brushed against my collarbone. He looked completely feral, his polished CEO mask entirely undone. "Did you feel absolutely nothing?" Silas demanded. His voice was a harsh, desperate whisper in the dark. I looked up into his stormy eyes, keeping my expression perfectly blank. "I told you out there. It was a good performance."

I was lounging at home, scrolling through social media, when a livestream title suddenly caught my eye—"The Other Woman Crash Course." Curious, I entered to see a woman talking animatedly, "My sugar daddy gives me 200,000 every month. I just need to keep him satisfied!" Viewers were doubtful and asked, "I don't believe you. Tell us how you two met." She smiled. "That's alright. You don't get to meet someone like that every day. I met him after doing a bone marrow transplant with his girlfriend three years ago. That's how I met this golden bachelor." I frowned. I had a bone marrow transplant three years ago too. Suddenly, the door opened, and she covered her phone in panic. A man's deep

CHAPTER FOUR The glass hits the wall and explodes. Ryan doesn't even flinch at the sound he just made. He's pacing. Three steps left, three steps right, the way he does when the math stops working in his favor. Selena is sitting on my couch. My couch. In my apartment. With her legs crossed like she owns it already. "Stop pacing," she says. "You're making it worse." "She's alive." He stops. Points at the TV where the screengrab is still frozen. My face. Alfonso's hand on my waist. Fifty cameras. "She's alive and she's got the most dangerous last name in Europe and you told me it was handled."

I covered your mouth with my hands as I looked down and closed my eyes, but you grabbed my hand and moved it away. "No, Clyone, listen." "Shut up, Deron. I don't wanna hear more of it." Because they are waking up the doubts and suspiciousness inside me. Your sudden words are growing the doubts and suspicious inside me bigger. I don't like this feeling. "Just listen, baby." "You're not dying, so what's the point?" "I just wanted to say." "Then shut it if there's no valid reason at all." "Just... just wait when the burial ends. Who knows? I might show up, right?"

The cold morning wind off the river blew across the concrete pier, carrying the bitter smell of burnt rubber and salty water. Noah stood entirely still, his arms dropping slowly to his sides. His heart pounded like a heavy hammer against his ribs as he stared at the young man standing on the truck ramp. Subject Zero-One looked so much like Noah that it felt like looking into a clear glass mirror. But there was no hesitation in Zero-One's eyes, no warmth, and no fear. He held the dark grey remote control steady in his right hand, his thumb resting lightly against the yellow toggle switch.

Murad grinned in mischief then opened the door to his side and stepped out. He went around and opened the door for Amani who took a deep breath and waiting for her brothers to all leave the car like they planned. They are going to stand close to her because there are people outside and they look to be from Zara's side, they need to suck their blood. They stood straight waiting for her then Mujahid offered her his hand, not even bothering about the questioning looks they are already getting due to the sirens. "You can do this, baby sis." He whispered to her ears when her legs trembled after they hit the ground. Everything is finally settling in her stomach and the people watching them with sc

Kian’s POV: “Anything special about this place?” We were walking slowly, on a deserted road. It was silent. A less chosen path by the passengers. It was quiet. Not that I didn’t like it. But I didn’t expect it. “umm, don’t you like it? It’s quiet. away from the city lights, traffic noise.” She was walking backwards facing me. Just like an iconic movie scene, her hair flowing, dramatically. “Don’t you think it’s a little bit dangerous?” I pushed my hands in my jacket. It was cold.

MIDNIGHT — BROOKLYN DOCKS The docks were eerily quiet. The usual hum of late-night activity was absent, replaced by an unsettling stillness. Odette crouched behind a stack of shipping containers, her breath steady, her grip tight on the small pistol in her hands. Beside her, Anton was a ghost in the darkness, his silver-grey eyes locked on the warehouse ahead. Logan’s voice crackled in their earpieces. “Cameras are looped. You’ve got five minutes before the next patrol.”

Erica took her position in the very center, the designated ground zero. Marcus and a hand-picked squad of his most unshakable veterans formed a tight ring around her, weapons out. Kael stood just before them, a solitary figure between the bait and the approaching tree line. And then, we waited. The silence was profound, broken only by the call of a distant crow. The mist began to burn away under a weak, gray sun. It didn’t take long.