Eye Of Observation Novels & Stories

Her scream echoed through the room, shrill and panicked. "Aaah!" But as soon as she spotted someone behind me, her expression morphed in an instant. Her eyes grew red-rimmed, tears welling up like a tragic heroine. "Emily, I know you despise me, but my child… my child is a life too!" I felt a strong hand seize my wrist, and I turned to find Tristan staring at me, his gaze glacial. "That's enough," he said coldly. "Emily, I asked you to come here for a civil conversation. How could you attack Faye like this?"

My eyes pinned on the young woman standing between them, and I swore to heaven my heartbeat accelerated. She wore a pristine white T-shirt tucked neatly into a denim skirt that hugged her curves in all the right places. But it was not just her outfit that caught my attention. Her beauty was stunning, and there was nothing plain about her. Her almond-shaped eyes were still wide in shock, but they looked adorable. They were a deep shade of brown, surrounded by long, thick lashes that fluttered every few seconds. If she were standing before me, I would have touched the tip of her perfectly pointed nose or graze her heart-shaped face. I felt ashamed to admit it, but she was undeniably the most b

“Then what is it doing?” Ethan exhaled slowly. “It’s watching.” That word settled like a weight none of them could ignore. Kael didn’t dismiss it; if anything, his focus sharpened further, his mind already moving ahead of the moment. “Observation changes behavior,” he said. “If it’s observing us, it’s learning at a faster rate than before.” Lucian let out a short breath. “That’s supposed to be comforting?” “No,” Kael replied. “It’s supposed to be accurate.”

he thundered. She looked at him in the eyes and she saw it. A slight hint of sadness and gladness mixed together. This was the first time she saw his eyes have these emotions. His eyes were always blank, like he was soulless. She felt her heart somewhat normal by just looking at them. She didn't feel scared again. She could see pain in those pair of golden eyes. Her hands slowly moved and she removed the dagger from his chest. "I can't kill you" she said, still lost in his eyes.

My skin feels as though it is being pierced by a thousand frigid needles. I hungrily gasp for air. My tightened lungs expand despite the pain. My eyes flutter around as I try to focus on the blurry objects. I hear a voice. I try to catch onto it, searching through the blurry shapes around me.

eyes? Siran stepped forward. The bloom shimmered once. Then went utterly still. As if it had revealed something it didn’t mean to. The others stood frozen. The shapes hung in the air for three more breaths, then disintegrated like mist beneath morning sun. Oru stepped backward. “That wasn’t memory. That was... observation.” Siran’s fingers trembled as she lowered her hand. “It formed shapes. On its own.” “They weren’t ours,” Neve whispered. “It wasn’t echoing us. It was initiating something.”

The way he held himself—calm and composed even when he wasn’t saying anything. The way his eyes moved, quietly observing everything. I wondered if he realized how uncomfortable that could make someone. “You stayed there for hours,” he said suddenly. I glanced up. “You noticed?” “I told you,” he replied calmly. “I observe things.” Right. I took a small bite of food before answering. “I guess I lost track of time.” His gaze stayed on me for a moment longer. “That’s usually a good sign.” “How so?” “It means something kept your attention.” I shrugged slightly. “Art tends to do that.”

" So do you see like, just black? or do you see purple like your eyes" "Nope, I see, nothing". " How does that feel like?". "Use one hand to close one eye, don't shut your eyes close, just use that one hand to cover it, and try looking at me, the one that's open sees me but the one eye covered sees nothing". She gasps "Woah, you're right, must be scary". "Nah... I'm used to it". Jesse's mum clears her throat " Jessica, don't ask such questions, that's rude, and Violet, you should know better than to speak while we are at the table eating, now let's just focus on our meal". Jessica and I chorused "Yes mother"

She was a seismograph, registering every subtle shift in the environment. After hours of driving, we switched to a specialized, rugged vehicle for the final, treacherous ascent up a private, unmaintained road. The ride became a jarring, brutal affair. Seraphina braced herself against the door, her knuckles white, but she made no sound of complaint. She simply endured, her jaw set, her blind eyes fixed on some internal horizon. We reached the end of the road as the sun began to cast long, sharp shadows across the snow-dusted peaks. Before us stood the observatory, a stark, cylindrical structure of aged concrete and steel, clinging to the mountainside like a fossil. It was brutal, isolated, an