Night Passage Novel Novels & Stories

She squeezed my wrist before disappearing into the fog. 🜃 The sun bled down the sky in streaks of crimson and gold, casting long shadows through the courtyard windows as I sat on my narrow bed, staring at my boots. Nightfall. A nocturnal trial. My stomach churned acid. Everyone else got to run under daylight, at least with visibility. Why me? By the time I made my way back to the forest clearing, darkness had swallowed the grounds whole. The moon hung low and bloated. My breath clouded in front of me as I approached Professor Nima, who held out a wax-sealed scroll without meeting my eyes.

“If there were a book three, the title would be Dusk?” “Midnight is a transition, darkness, silence, the feeling of loneliness and loss. Dawn is hope, and if Dawn is as successful as Midnight, then the third book will be Nightfall, but it’s not exactly the time of day. It’s a locale mentioned in the book.” “Okay. No more spoilers, T.S. Prince.” “You’re not mad?” “About you being the author, and making me look like a fool?” He chuckled. “I wanna bite you right now, but it can wait until I come back from the trip.”

It was late at night. There were no stars or moonlight in sight. After finishing his work, Nathan returned to Morrison Residence, and it was already past 11:00 pm. Although the house was brightly lit, everyone had gone back to their rooms to rest. The empty house felt desolate. Nathan was very exhausted as he went up the stairs. Upon reaching his room, he pushed the door open and it was pitch black inside the room. Turning on the light, he didn't see Mila in the empty room.

"March 27th, 1615, Dear Father, I hope your travels are bountiful. Our new Hungarian citizens are planning out a plot of land to build a lighthouse and small town so they will no longer be in use of our castle. The woman with them is rather skittish. Has an aversion to men. She will be staying with us longer. I've already promised her a room so don't go tell her to leave. I am afraid she was a battered woman, and I will be on my best behavior to make her feel welcome. I quite like Ann—" And then it ends. Hmm. I flicked through some of the delicate pages, careful not to hurt the parchment. I wondered if the author was a distant relative of Vivianna. The dates match up with the early founders

POV: Charlotte I didn’t go back to sleep. I went back to the bedroom and lay in the dark for another two hours, not trying anymore, just lying there with the notebook on the bedside table and the locket beside it and the particular quality of a night that had become something different from what it had started as, and at some point the darkness outside the window began to shift, the deep grey of a sky deciding to become morning arriving without announcement the way mornings arrived, and I watched it happen.

The day passed by pretty fast and Nathan hadn't returned home yet, it was already nightfall, why was I even worried about him, he was not some little pup that he would get lost. I was about to fall sleep when the door to my room opened slowly, I had turned off the lights and the room was pitch black, streaks of light from the hallway streamed in giving my room a soft glow, he was back and he was coming to my room, who else could it be at this hour.

After waiting for a very long time but couldn't get to see him, she stood up and left. She got back feeling very dull. This time no one could save her from it she got into her room and had it locked tightly, climbed her bed, and then brought out that passport photograph to look at it. She tried to figure out if she had ever seen his face but no matter how she looked at it, she was sure she had never seen him before. Tired, she thought about throwing the passport photograph away and forgetting about the one-night stand she had just had but no matter how much she tried, she just couldn't let go of the passport.

She had already sprinted past the turnoff for her apartment building; leading these unknown killers to her safe house would be suicide. She needed to lose them in the dark, because if she failed to break their line of sight, she would likely end up as a corpse on an autopsy table by morning. The path ahead was pitch black, unlit by any city infrastructure, but her enhanced night vision handled the darkness without issue. Fortunately, she knew these back alleys like the back of her hand. Reaching the absolute end of the concrete maze, the narrow path finally opened up into the wide, brightly lit expanse of the multi-lane highway.

I’ll handle it in the morning. I take my glass, with bottle of wine. I walk through the house, turning off the lights, making sure everything is locked up. Then, I head back upstairs to my bedroom and N*****x, feeling full and satisfied. I put the wine down with the glass, on the bedside table. I refresh the tv and press play. I curl up in the bed with a comfy blanket. Honestly, it’s moments like this that I do begin to miss New York. There’s no noise of the city, no friends like “Marcy” coming over to my house late night at eleven pm cause she was out have drinks and wants to crash. Owen getting pissed off cause he has to be awake for work in the morning. If that didn’t happen, he would get

The chill of the marble floor seeped through Natalie’s silk slippers as she moved through the darkened halls. Moonlight, thin and silver, sliced through the tall archways, painting stark shadows that danced with her every step. The mansion, usually a hive of quiet activity, now held its breath, a vast, opulent tomb. She clutched a small, leather-bound notebook, its pages filled with the meticulous script of Anita’s observations, Lucian’s whispered hints, and Isabella's unwitting revelations. Every detail, every overheard conversation, every seemingly innocuous fact about Lorenzo’s empire, she had committed to paper, a weapon forged in secret.