Fahrenheit 451 Audiobook Full Novels & Stories

Tears filled her eyes as she whispered against his chest, “Then burn it down. Burn the book. Please.” But when he reached for the pages, the blood hissed back like flames resisting him. The book laughed—a sharp, broken sound akin to paper tearing apart: “You can’t burn her story, fox; you can only read it…and reading means obeying.” Camela’s scream caught in her throat as she muttered, “It spoke…” Vincent bared his teeth in defiance as his fire flared even higher. “Then I’ll silence it,” he said fiercely. He slammed his hand down, his fire blazing but the pages didn’t burn. Instead, they bled harder and thicker, flooding the floor until it reached their ankles.

She hesitated. That was her book. As she reached out for it, his hand moved at the same moment. Their fingers touched-just a graze-and a current pulsed between them like the flick of static before a storm. He looked at her.His eyes were grey-blue. Calm. Intense. Searching. "You have good taste," he said, voice low and smooth. Clara felt her heart trip. "Neruda's kind of... essential." He pulled the book from the shelf, opened it to the third page, and without looking down, quoted: "I want to do with you what spring does with the cherry trees."

Dante screamed, grabbing a heavy brass bookend and hurling it at the screen. The glass shattered, the image of the older man fragmenting into a thousand digital shards. But the voice didn't stop. It came from the speakers hidden in the ceiling of the archive. "The thirteenth hour is over, children. The Fire Protocol is no longer a punishment. It’s a mercy. The Architect is coming to collect the data. If you want to survive, you have to find the room where the first fire started." The library began to groan, the ancient stones shifting as a security lockdown was initiated. Iron grates began to slide shut over the exits.

I had closed my eyes and shut and lowered my head. The sound did not come. I was whole, complete whole and alive. I was alive. The relief was too much and I sagged into the chair. “Aftó den boreí na symveí” the voice was angry and it sounded frustrated. (This cannot happen) The guns. What will happen to Hades now? “Tha se skotóso tóra” the voice said and a voice of button came. I looked at the walls but no fire came. No sound. Nothing. (I will kill you now)

In April of the thirty-first year, on a Saturday evening, Don read Ernest the first section of the fourth book. The reading had been established as the form of sharing across three previous books — the reading aloud in the sitting room, the listener in the chair, the fire or the lack of fire depending on the season. April was past the fire in the thirty-first year as it had been past the fire in most of the previous Aprils. The sitting room had the quality of the late spring evening — the windows open to the garden, the sound of the birds in the last of the light, the specific quality of the building when it was warm enough that the fire was not necessary but cool enough that the evening had

I feel and hear footsteps moving but I don't follow them, I'm drowning inside a large aquarium that closed the alarm leaving me here. - Yellow alert and code red in effect (...) Attention, fire in chamber 4. Attention, fire in chamber 4. (...) Contain the experiments. As a sign of resistance, kill, preserve the body to the maximum. (...) Attention, fire in chamber 4. (...) The tenths must be brought in safely. (...) Attention, fire in chamber 4. - A distorted voice repeated in the speaker.

he breathes against my lips. I want to be. His hand goes to the front of his pants and the fog in my head lifts. "Do you love me, Tahr?" I question breathlessly into his mind. Please, please, please give me the answer that will make the pain of what you did to me fade. He freezes and combined with the sadness I see in his eyes, I have my answer. With strength I didn't know I had, I push solidly against his chest and send him flying to the floor. I peer over the side of the bed, open my mouth, and let loose with a blast of fire.