Muted Melodies Novels & Stories

"Something that sounds like a possibility." Amity closed her eyes for a moment, then began to play. The melody that emerged was unlike anything she'd performed before, hopeful yet complex, weaving together themes of independence and connection, rebellion and acceptance. The Crystal Voice sang with pure emotion, its transparent body catching and fracturing the light into rainbow patterns that danced across the walls.

The dark outside is tuning. And we give it no melody—only rhythm. And those who hold rhythm… endure.

Morricone (1928) for oboe and piano. The tunes and melodies produced by the two instruments were so pleasant, depicting the high and low notes and tunes so that the tunes fluctuated with emotions and sensations. While listening to the music, one’s mind was drifted away with those charming tunes until the music reached its finale, and clapping from the audience exuded wholeheartedly.

The world around them melted away, leaving only the promise of a new melody. **************************************************

Something with terrible, fastidious taste. Silas was waiting for us, his face a mask of dread. “I’ve been listening,” he said, his voice trembling. “The song of this place… it’s being simplified. The complex harmonies of daily life—the minor keys of irritation, the crashing chords of celebration, the quirky little melodies of personal habit—they’re being muted. Flattened. What remains is a pleasant, generic ambient track.” “Who?” I demanded. “And why?”

Mary replied, turning back to the window. “How about your hearing? Did you find a way to prevent all the sounds from driving you crazy again?” She asked. “Yeah, I figured out a way to prevent the sounds from coming in at once. Only selected sounds are allowed in, so I'm practically deaf to things I'm not looking at. It's going to take a few weeks before I can perfect this method to resemble normal human hearing. To be honest, I didn't think it was possible, but here we are,” Melody replied.

The sound reverberated through the quiet corridor, and I anxiously waited for a response. After a brief moment, I heard a faint clapping sound coming from inside the room. It was Aurelia, signaling me to come in. I pushed open the door gently and stepped into her space, my eyes immediately scanning the room for any signs of distress. Aurelia, unable to speak, gestured at me, silently questioning why I had come. I approached her with a mix of concern and relief, grateful to see her safe.

“I am honestly disappointed in you. How could you care for a mute girl? I mean, just look at her! She has to communicate using that silly sign language. That’s just disgusting.” The rage inside me was building up, and my sense of reasoning was almost at its limit. “Do not talk about Kayla that way,” I said, my voice low, but menacing. Cynthia scoffed. “Talk about who? The mute that got raped by a lot of men? That thing you call your mate is a damaged good, why would you want that?” Cynthia giggled. “With the way she looked, I am sure she enjoyed it when those men defiled her one by one, or maybe they took her all at once?”

He took a step closer to us, his gaze locked with my father. “I am not lying. Here’s my daughter with me,” my father replied, pushing me forward for Beta Gideon to have a look, as if I were a piece of parcel waiting for their review. Beta Gideon’s eyes narrowed at me. “Amos, your daughter is a mute. How are you sure that she knows what it means, or how did you find out?” “She can communicate through the mind-link. She is a mute, but that doesn’t mean she cannot read or write. My daughter deserves justice,” my father retorted. I lowered my head, avoiding the stares of eyes on me.

My eyes flew open. The world was a haze of antiseptic whites and blaring machines. The pungent sting of antiseptic burned my nose, along with the agony firing through each bone in my body. I tried to talk, to yell, but what emerged was a broken rasp. No voice. No sound.