Muted Melodies Novels & Stories

He looked down at his yellow stained cuticles and felt a sudden, sharp spark of defiance. If the world wanted to hear from the Silent Artist of Surulere, he would give them a voice they weren't expecting one that didn't require a single vowel to be understood. He reached for a fresh page in his book, the charcoal scratching a rhythmic, confident beat against the paper. He wasn't preparing a speech; he was mapping a revolution.

The Next Day – At The Hide-Out It was 4:30 AM, and it was a marathon for Lucas and Aurora. The libidinous Aurora had longed for that day right from the first day she met Kelvin but he resisted her. When she observed that the blindfolded and masked-up Kelvin was complying with her moves she untied him for maximum satisfaction. What Aurora was not aware of was that the sex-starved twenty-one-year-old Lucas, who had the same features as Kelvin, was having sex for the first time in his life and was not pleased with the experience, which would remain indelible in his mind. He frowned inwardly but pretended to be cooperating, just to save his life.

It turned out his kindness wasn't out of goodwill—it stemmed from his inability to forget her. Just then, the doorbell of the hotel room rang. Giselle hooked a finger under my chin, her eyes full of malice. "Aurora, I heard you're still a virgin. Too bad—will you still be one tomorrow?" she wondered aloud. "Don't bother screaming. He'll be very gentle with you," she added. Then, she seemed to remember something, her tone mocking. "Oh, I forgot. You can't scream—you're mute!" Hearing that, I struggled with all my might.

Gregory’s signal, Melody readied her hands, saying a silent prayer for guidance, and began to play. Melody expected her fingers to be stiff and out of practice. She assumed it would be difficult to begin again, but as the notes began to flow from her fingertips, she realized the memory of the music was still inside of her. She had forgotten the pure joy of filling the air with song, the magic that sparked to life when her fingers chose just the right keys and placed them together in harmony. The music came to life through her hands, and soon her heart and soul took over, moving through each measure with precision and passion.

the person said before ending the call. The woman who communicated in Morse code sighed, feeling her eyes sting with impending tears. Remembering how her husband professed love to his mistress was painful. She walked slowly to her room and paused at the large mirror in the hallway. The reflection showed a beautiful woman with slightly wavy brown hair, though her eyes were swollen from sadness. The blue of her eyes was unique, her figure slender—perhaps not as voluptuous as Sophia's, but well-proportioned. The blue-eyed woman was undeniably attractive, if not for the cruel disability caused by a childhood accident that left her mute. She communicated through sign language and Morse code, some

Faded frescoes of fallen angels peeled from the plaster above, their sightless eyes forever fixed on the solitary light source: a single, seven-branched candelabra that cast long, grotesque silhouettes against the polished ebony floors. Rusty sat at the heart of the room, anchored to the stool of a massive, archaic grand piano. His fingers, long and pallid, moved with a fluidity that bordered on the supernatural, coaxing a melody from the ivory keys that sounded less like music and more like a confession. It was a composition of dissonance”haunting, classical, and twisted by an underlying current of profound, jagged melancholy. It felt as though the very wood of the instrument remembered the

"Good. Three years mute and the second she gets her voice back, she takes them down. The Moon Goddess sees everything." Across the plaza, the screen kept playing Daybreak. My voice rolled over all of it. Clean. Clear. A blade splitting the night sky. THE END

" I asked and she was suddenly so confused, 'Have she said it that loud?' her inner voice asked, Melanie's anger vibrate in my brain. "Hold on a second! You called us slow Hanna?" Melanie asked in annoyance. "I didn't say it out loud,.... I didn't even say it out at all" Hanna replied and I shook my head in disapproval. "What the heck Hanna! You know what!...solve your shit yourself" Melanie said dropping the cleaning rag by her feet "What!? You're just gonna leave?" She asked hoping she wouldn't leave. "Yeah.... I'm just gonna leave" Melanie replied with a roll of her eyes.

Slowly, he walked toward her, letting the rhythm call upon him. Her fingers tapped the tiles as a deep sound emerged from it, changing the tone to its peak. The once soft river stream of melody turned heavier, like rigged waves of emotions. Then she halted, her fingers hovering over the keys, just when Augustus eagerly wanted her to finish the unknown piece. He looked at her for a moment, trying to remember which of the members of the Mulvar Chamber could play as good as her. Only four had a badge to enter his sanctuary, after all.

Literally. ​The sound turned into a black, oily smoke in his palm. ​"Your music is a child’s toy," Zero said. He struck the deck with his foot, and a wave of "Negative-Resonance" slammed into the Bloom-Soldiers, their ironwood armor instantly turning to grey ash. ​Kael stepped forward, closing his eyes. He didn't use the song. He used the Friction. ​He reached into the "Muted" parts of his own memory—the eighty years of suffering, the loneliness of the war, the hunger of the Shallows. He didn't try to make it beautiful. He made it Heavy.