Eric Quiet Place: Day One Novels & Stories

The stranger's voice slid through the walls, soft yet sharp: “Because I have.” Suddenly, the lights went out. The monitors went black. The door slammed shut. And in the suffocating silence, Camela's scream rang out again— As a pale hand pressed down on her scar.

I met his eyes. "I need a favor. After the surgery, tell him I died on the table." His face crumpled. "Alright. I'll do it." As I stepped out of the office, there they were—Brigitte waddling down the hall, Elroy right next to her, playing the doting dad. Our eyes locked. Elroy froze, then bolted over like his shoes were on fire. "Babe, I've been looking everywhere. You shouldn't be walking around alone—it's not safe."

Watching the screen, I notice that they end the call and then I turn to Rosalee whose eyes are peeled to her ex-husband. As we watch him come closer, she doesn’t seem to move, but stay right where she is. I cry out, “Let’s get out of here.” Right before he slams the bat into the windshield, and I hear the glass crack. Not being able to reach the peddle, I try to snap her out of it before he breaks through and kills the both of us. Shaking her, I hear the sirens finally in the distance and that is enough to stop him from doing any more. Watching him run to his truck and driving away quickly, I then return my attention to Rosalee.

he says, "The only place where a shapeshifter can feel free to let his true nature show." I briefly wonder what Tidiane's true nature looks like. Shapeshifters are notorious for never showing their true selves. At present he has taken the form of a city worker. Grey suit, smart shoes, square leather briefcase. But he has added purple hair--from eyebrows to beard--and a tattoo of an anchor on his cheek. Mixed signals. And this Quiet Place? There are no quiet places in the city. Unless ... I gasp. "The Barren," I guess. "You go to the Barren to meditate."

So you think is her/him that is behind this? "Am not sure Naomi Michael said." call the rest of team for us to come together at our usual hangout spot. I'll do Mike. Thanks for calling see you soon my friend. Naomi hung up the phone same for Michael. Welc...WHAT THE HELL! was that sound and were is it coming from? He ran towards the back of the shop to see were the sound is coming from. Strangely enough their was no body there. (Naomi POV) I was so busy working on invention help us capture our killer, but there was no process what so ever.

My dad is walking towards the car while I tag behind him, my eyes on my phone's screen. The sound of three gunshots astounds me. My phone falls from my hand when I see my dad, lying on the gravel pathway, blood oozing out of his head and chest. In that moment, I don't care who shot him or why? I just fall on my knees and let out an ear-splitting scream. "Daaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaddddddd!!!!" ÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷

I couldn’t speak until I was eight years old. Everyone in the Sterling family called me dumb. Even my mother would secretly wipe away tears, convinced she had given birth to an autistic daughter. Whenever my father looked at me, his eyes were filled with nothing but disappointment. However, for the sake of the family’s reputation, he could never bring himself to send me away to a special education school. Then came the day someone from a prominent hedge fund company arrived to acquire our family company, Sterling Group. He was so arrogant that he chewed out everyone in the boardroom until all of them hung their heads low. The room full of corporate executives fell silent, too terrified to

Its private, off-grid generators hummed with a defiant, mechanical arrogance, a heartbeat of power in a dead city. ​"Thermal cameras are active on the main plaza," Silas’s voice crackled through my tactical earpiece. His tone was steady, a low, gravelly vibration that betrayed no fear of the chaos he was about to unleash. "We’re in position at the loading docks. My boys are hungry, Malakai. Give the word, and I’ll turn this lobby into a bonfire that they’ll see from the coast."

The familiar sequence — key in the lock, the slight resistance of the door, the sound of her bag hitting the floor. Then Anne herself, stepping in with the exhaustion of someone who had been holding other people together all day. She dropped onto the couch. “Tell me the evening is going to be quiet.” “I made food,” Joy said. “You’re my favourite person.” They ate on the couch. No television. Just the quiet shift into evening. Joy was quieter than usual. “How was your day?” Anne asked. “Quiet. You?” Anne exhaled. “Tiring. One of my clients was having a harder day. Those ones stay with you.”

45 — The Quiet Place Nori couldn't sleep. The safehouse was quiet. The laundromat below had long since settled into silence, the last machines finished with their endless turning. Beside her, Tharien slept with one arm draped across her waist, his breathing slow and even against her shoulder. The bond between them rested warm in her chest. Anchored. Present. Chosen. It should have been enough. Instead she kept hearing Lena's voice. *We're safe here.*