House Of Leaves Audiobook の小説・ストーリー

"Eli! I curse you to die a wretched death, with no body left to bury!" So his curse really did come true. I shut my eyes, too drained to feel anything but a hollow calm. And then, something wrenched me upward. The world blurred past, wind screaming in my ears. When I opened my eyes again, I was back in the place I both knew and dreaded: home. It was December 29th. The manor was strung with gold tinsel and paper snowflakes—every corner bright with seasonal cheer. But I felt no warmth. The festive colors only burned my eyes, sharp and unsettling.

Three days before Sheldon was supposed to leave the country, he mortgaged our house. He even helped us pack, moving me and the boys into a tiny one-room basement unit on the third floor down. It was barely 300 square feet and was damp, musty, and dark. Sheldon stood in the middle of that little room, talking to our sons as if he was giving some grand speech.

And no doubt, have hot dreams about it. It’s another book suggestion from her. I’ve just finished the last one she recommended, and honestly, I shouldn’t dive into another. Once I start reading, I lose myself completely. But this time, she’s telling me to listen to it. Audiobook. That’s new. Before I even realize what I’m doing, I click the link she sent, and in a matter of seconds, the book is purchased and playing through my home speakers. I settle back in bed, letting the narrator’s deep voice wash over me, and within moments, I realize Lucy’s sent me a stalker romance. Great.

The dome-shaped shield was gone, and it means that my parents put that dome there so no one else could get access to the book – breaking it means that it was meant to be broken by me. Without hesitations running around my mind, I put the key into the keyhole and I could hear a click as the small padlock came undone. A small hiss of air let out from the book as if it was a relief to be free from the lock it was bound to. I opened the first page and suddenly a hologram came popping out. Leah and Lyv came beside me, watching the hologram play out. It wasn’t an ordinary book. It was a book that has a device installed in it for it to record and play out certain events instead of writing it.

He shifts back; putting a seat between us and truly looking horrified. Bibah simply shakes her head at our childish shenanigans and takes a sip of her iced latte, metal straw clinking in the Hydro Flask. “The Awoo Book Club’s pick for this week is H.P Lovecraft.” She pats the voluminous book atop the pile and I notice it’s the library copy of H.P Lovecraft’s Omnibus 3. “I’m so excited to roast his ass.”

And spoke to me. With the future. With everything. I wanted to walk to them. But I couldn't move. I was just a voice. Just a look. Noah slowly lifted his head. Saw right where I was. Like he could really see me. “The house listens,” he said quietly. At the same time the sea moved. Not the waves. Something underneath. A huge shadow. Too big. Too deep. The voice of the house came out of the water. Not loud. Almost kind.

Like 271 days was boring. Like home was obvious. _Thump._ *3:00 PM. [SFX: CLOCK. THEN NONE. THEN SEVEN.]* Living room. Not fireplace. Not _COURT_ box. Burned 265 days ago. Just us. Seven. Me. Floor. February. Chest. Sleeping. 3 PM. On time. Adrian. Next to me. 59 BPM. Head on my shoulder. Alex. Other side. Book. Reading. To her. _The House That Was Just Home._ Page 1. “Once upon a time there was a house that was not a court…”

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐍𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐚 𝐓𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐇𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐬 The first sign wasn't a sound at all. It was the way the silver-grey mist over the French coastline began to ripple, not from the wind, but from a frequency that seemed to vibrate the very fluid in Maya’s inner ear. Beside her in the back of the truck, Leo’s tiny chest hitched in a rhythm that didn't match his breathing. His silver eyes were fixed on the northern ridge, his pupils dilating and contracting like a camera lens trying to find focus in the dark. He was echoing a pulse that only he could hear; a thrumming that started in the bedrock and climbed up through the rusted chassis of the diesel truck. It tasted of copper and old

Just my husband. "Is it over?" Bryan asked, looking at the house. "I think so," I said. But then I felt a weight in my pocket. I reached in and pulled out a small, leather-bound book. I hadn't put it there. I opened the book. Every page was blank except for the very last one. On the last page, there was a single sentence written in fresh, red ink: 'The sequel begins when you turn the key.' I looked at our new front door. There was a key in the lock. It was made of solid gold, and it was carved into the shape of a wolf’s head.

I’ve accidentally brushed the back of my hand against Vance’s hair and mistaken it for a giant hairy spider. The uncomfortable shiver slowly fades as I climb out of bed. I don’t know how or why I forgot I had a husband. That fright truly sent a chill down my spine. Well, I’m fully awake now. No point trying to sneak in that last snooze. I sloppily grab my phone and make my way to the bathroom. I play an audiobook by Robert Greene while brushing my teeth and washing up. His calm voice fills the room while I try to shake off the strange unease clinging to me this morning.