No Echoes Novels & Stories

The moment those words left my mouth, the entire world seemed to fall silent. The smug arrogance on Lucas's face froze completely, twisting into something almost absurd. Silas froze, too. The storm raging inside his head suddenly went still, leaving behind only one sentence repeating endlessly. [She likes me... She said she likes me... She actually said it herself... I'm not dreaming...] The overwhelming joy in his eyes was so intense it almost felt tangible. Lucas was the first to snap back to reality. Pointing wildly between Silas and me, he doubled over with hysterical laughter, practically doubled over.

"The one where no one can hear us. Please." He did not hesitate. He lifted her up easily, her legs wrapping around his waist, and carried her down the hallway. Once inside his private home office, he locked the thick heavy door behind them. The room was specially designed with soundproof walls, thick panels, and a heavy door for late night business calls. No sound would escape. It was the perfect place for what was about to happen.

Then their footsteps echoed. One step. One echo. Two steps. Two echoes. Normal. Then Thomas stopped. Immediately. Then: "Wait." Silence. Then Ava frowned. Then: "What?" Thomas looked behind them. Then: "Our echoes." Everyone listened. The street became completely still. Then they heard it. Their footsteps. Again. One second later. Impossible. God. No. Fair. Absolutely not. Reasonable honestly. Then Rowan stepped forward. Once. The echo followed. Late. Much later than it should.

Cecilia hugged me and said comfortingly, "Alright. Let's not think about such depressing things anymore now that you're home. It's just a diamond necklace. I'll buy you a few more accessories tomorrow, enough that you can just wear a different one every day." I burst into laughter, the sadness that I'd felt from ruminating on the past had washed away slightly. I had a good sleep that night. ... The next day, I suddenly received a bunch of missed calls from an unknown number. I had a habit of turning on airplane mode when I slept. The moment I turned it off, I started hearing notification sounds for over 99 missed calls. A second later, my phone rang, and I tentatively chose to answer the cal

All I could think was this is it. And then, through the haze, I heard the smallest sound — a soft, frightened voice. “Mommy?” My daughter was standing in the doorway, wide-eyed, frozen. I tried to speak, but no sound came out — just a rasp, a whisper of her name. It was barely audible, but it was enough. He turned his head toward her, just for a second — and that second saved my life.

I was beyond tired; I was in a trance of pain. But something was changing. In the silence of my exhaustion, I stopped listening to the sound of Kaelen’s boots. I started listening to the Silence. I remembered what Malachi said: Find the space where the sound stops. Kaelen moved again—a high kick aimed at my temple. Usually, I would have flinched, closing my eyes and waiting for the impact. But this time, I didn't. I felt the air pressure change. I felt the "Void" where her foot was about to be.

They were rigid with tension, shaking slightly with the force of his own desperate hope. I pushed, gently but immovably. Silas froze. His lips were still pressed against the frantic pulse point on my neck. He was breathing heavily, his chest expanding and contracting against mine in ragged, uneven bursts. "What?" he rasped, his voice thick and heavy with blinding vulnerability. "It is exactly two minutes to midnight, Silas," I said softly, my voice completely devoid of the breathless surrender he was expecting. I lowered my hands, letting them rest limply at my sides.

The man jogging across the street is thinking about how late he is. The old lady waiting for the bus is worried she left the stove on. A teenage boy on his bike is singing a rap song in his head, badly. I press my palms against my ears, but it doesn’t help. The voices are still there. A flood of unfiltered thoughts. It’s overwhelming. “Shut up,” I whisper. “Please, shut up.” And just like that, the noise dulls. Not gone, but softer. Manageable. Like turning the volume down. I take a deep breath. Okay. I can control this. Maybe. I wander toward the park down the street, the one where Evan and I used to sit with cheap coffee and big dreams. I collapse onto the old

Everything stops! Silence.

No more words needed. This was real.