Hush: A Novel Novels & Stories

His were bright like a flame surrounded by darkness and hers were sparkling like the evening sky with upcoming bright stars. “You’re shameless,” she whispered, about to chuckle when he kissed her neck — basically hit her weak point — and her voice died down in her throat. Her hold tightened on his shoulders. “Shameless bastard.” Hazel frowned when she heard that almost inaudible whisper. She looked around but found everybody asleep like before. Christian was busy devouring her neck, sighing in bliss while Hazel was still worried if anybody saw them. She knew she heard someone but everybody was asleep.

Centuries have passed and that girl, even when it's tough for me to concede, is probably dead. Thus, another girl, a grown-up lady is always appearing. This dilemma has been present for ever since year 2018 started, goddamn it! I paved my way through the Italian bar. The entrance was covered with beautiful and pink flowers with the neon letters La Fleur. You wouldn't expect that inside it was a bar full of monsters doing drugs, sex, and feeding on people. I saw a familiar man coming out of the counter and making his way to me. I grinned at him and nodded, letting my red pupil show – a way to greet your co-vampires. He did the same too.

’ Trish thought as she began to laugh. On the other side Connie was finding it hard to rest because of the intensity of her nightmare. The classic music on her ipod was soothing that in no time sleep overtook her. Unknown to innocent Connie was that her self-made opponents were gathering momentum against her. The first bomb was already in motion, while she was sleeping the mail was being processed for delivery tomorrow among them an envelope from Trish.

The landscape was alien and foreboding, a surreal amalgamation of shifting shadows and fragmented structures that seemed perpetually on the verge of collapse. The air was thick with an unsettling stillness, broken only by the occasional whisper of forgotten memories. Each whisper was like a ghostly touch against her skin, a fleeting sensation that left her shivering. The whispers were disjointed, fragments of conversations, cries, and laughter that seemed to echo from the very walls of Nyxterra. They whispered her name in haunting, fragmented tones, urging her deeper into the darkness.

I couldn't calm myself; the anxiety was a physical entity, a crushing weight on my chest. The house was a ruin, a testament to neglect and abandonment. Yet, amidst the decay, scattered belongings hinted at Mika's presence – a discarded scarf, a half-empty water bottle, a torn photograph. The evidence was chilling, a stark reminder of the danger she faced. The silence stretched, each second an agonizing eternity. Then, the sharp crack of a gunshot sliced through the stillness, a sound that shattered the fragile calm. "LAXUS!" I screamed, the name a desperate cry tearing from my throat. The tears came instantly, a torrent of grief and terror, blurring my vision, washing away any hope that rema

I did not say anything during the entire thing and just watched her quietly as she put on her show. I wanted to know just how sincere she was during our seven years of friendship. By the looks of it, I was too naive and mistook this venomous viper for a harmless pet. That was why I ended up dying so tragically in the previous cycle. “That’s fine. If you can’t help me, someone else will.” I did not stop smiling and dialed a number. The moment the call went through, the person on the other end asked anxiously, “Miss Nelson, have you managed to contact Joy?”

Should I surrender to it, close my eyes, and give in to the comforting numbness? I was so tired; I doubted I could stay conscious much longer. But then, out of nowhere, something warm reached me. It began in the hand Kaden had held in his death grip, spreading to my heart, and from there, it gradually permeated my entire body. It melted the frozen ice that trapped me in the depths of my mind. I could breathe again. The warmth called to me, drawing me in like a moth to a distant light. The light grew brighter the closer I got to it.

It infuriated me more. “You’re quiet now?” I hissed inwardly. “When I need you most?” Her presence remained, unmoving. Almost as if she knew something I didn’t. I made my way downstairs, my breath coming hard, and drifted into the kitchen. The silence there was different — deeper, heavier, as though the walls themselves were holding secrets. I poured a glass of water with trembling hands, trying to steady myself. That’s when I heard it. Whispers. I crept toward the back door, pressing myself against the wall, the night air cool against my skin. And then the voices sharpened.

Every insecurity I had ever known since meeting Owen came rushing back as the rush of blood drowned out everything except my heart beating loudly in my ears. I watched as Mr. Hanson’s mouth moved and in the recesses of my mind, I could hear the echo of his big, booming voice but couldn’t comprehend a single word he said. Whatever it was, the blond bombshell standing in front of us only had eyes for one person and it wasn’t our history teacher.

I asked, voice rough with exhaustion. “I think,” he said carefully, “it’s scared of what we become when we stop trying to be perfect, and just… burn together.” I smiled into his skin. “I’m not afraid,” I whispered. He kissed the top of my head. “Then neither am I.” But outside, the wind shifted. The scent of ash reached us on the air. And far in the distance… A howl rose. Not wild. Not mourning. But marching.