Monochrome Rumor Novels & Stories

It gives me a headache like a static that I used to hear recently. “Who is the murderer now?” “Who is the murderer now?” “Who is the murderer now?” I keep on hearing her voice again and again and again, which makes me dizzy and fall to the ground. In this dark, cold, silent night and only the ray from the full moon is the only light I see. I am so dizzy and I Passed out.

I asked again. Is it hard for him to speak? He's so cold. Is he a mafia? HAHAHA just kidding. I don't know why, but when a person is so private, I'm concluding that they're hiding something. Is the Villamorannas CEO a mafia? HAHAHA why am I like this? "Cause you know, there are rumors that their CEO is a mafia" I whisper, laughing a bit. You know, just to lighten up the mood? HIHI

I have only 3 days left before miss Lauretta throws me out. I went to collect the bill for his meal,his girlfriend is a talkative. She talks like a parrot,I made to collect it as soon as my hands touched his,I felt a tingling sensation, I quickly took the money and left. He stood up and left. I counted the money,while counting it I saw a note.. "COUNTRY CITY MALL...7PM" Oh my god he left a note,he wanted to see me. I contemplated going. I didn't know him enough but, risks are meant to be taken .

Harmonia intervened naturally. Maria nodded repeatedly. Harmonia then looked at Monica and asked, “Monica, what did you want to show me?” Monica regained her composure and swiped on Monica’s tablet immediately. “Monia, which of these hair colors do you think looks the best? Can you help me decide?” Harmonia took a look. Red, yellow, purple, green, blue, and gray, were all mixed together. At first glance, it looked like the ‘emo goth’ style.

“No. I will not yield to your power, I have waited years for this, you have controlled us for too long.” “Well if you won’t go to your brothers, I will just have to bring them to you.” Black glares at Aidan then glances in my direction before taking a step in my direction. Abruptly there is a loud bang and four monsters appear in front of Aidan. They stare at Black with confusion and anger. They all seem to coloured differently, one orange, one yellow, one red and one green. The green one takes a step towards Black and says with a hush voice

She was my mother in every sense of the word, and I loved her deeply. But now Monica was gone, and the farm, once a place of love and laughter, had become a prison of grief. I couldn't escape the memories of her that were at every corner of the house. To make matters worse, I had started hearing strange whispers, voices that seemed to come from nowhere and everywhere at once. They were faint, but persistent. Sometimes they sounded like my mother, sometimes like strangers. It was enough to make me question my sanity.

Late afternoon light had gone flat and grey over the white ground. He didn't turn when I came in. But he knew I was there. "He'll talk about that anglerfish for weeks," he said. "It's earned," I said. "It genuinely is a remarkable animal." A small silence. "Thank you," Julien said. "For the anglerfish?" "For listening to him." He turned then, just slightly, enough that I could see his profile against the window light. "He doesn't always have people who listen the way you do."

​The violet hue of the room had curdled into a deep, bruised indigo. The physical smartphone on the table continued to hum, its vibration rattling the thin veneer of the "Domestic Noir" reality. The sound was a rhythmic, mechanical heartbeat—the insistent demand of the Publisher, the silent billions who had turned a family’s private friction into a global commodity.

Gage shrugs, clearly not wanting to talk about his work. We eat dinner in mostly silence because of the phone call. I try to ask Gage little questions but I'm getting very short responses. Like a typical man like him, his favorite color is black and he says he doesn't have a favorite movie. I'll figure it out though. When I asked him what music he listened to he said he doesn't listen to music. So I'm learning he's very private and doesn't like opening up, even with small questions. But I can't fault him for that. I'm the same way, especially because I'm used to being alone.

(Flashback) I was driving home, the city lights blurring into indistinct streaks of gray, my thoughts consumed by the complexities of a pending merger. The world around me was a muted landscape, a consequence of the monochromacy disorder that had plagued me since childhood. The vibrant hues that others took for granted – the fiery sunsets, the lush green of the trees, the brilliant blue of the sky – were lost to me, replaced by a spectrum of black, white, and shades of gray.