Q Quiet Place Novels & Stories

Like seriously? “This way, please.” The familiar guy spoke up and nodding, he followed quietly like a lamb being led to a slaughter house. The restaurant had a serene atmosphere. After all, not everybody could afford a meal in a place like this. They walked on until they came to a private room. Knocking politely, the man opened the door and walked in. Warren followed suit while the two men closed the door, standing guard by the door. Judging by the room décor, it was a private room. He watched the man walk up to a figure standing by the window with his back to him. “What do you want from me?” Warren questioned, unable to hold his patience anymore. The figure remained unmoving like Warren was

11-BEING HIM Athena woke up in an unfamiliar room, her senses immediately assaulted by an eerie silence. She lay there quietly, keeping her eyes closed, trying to gather her bearings. The beeping of the machines that surrounded the bed matched her breaths, the only indications of her heartbeat, her existence in this strange place.

Silence greets me as I enter the only noise coming from the door as it locked behind me. “Tadaima...” Removing my shoes and jacket I move towards the living room. The TV was off but the lights were on and... Atlas? She’s, asleep? She was curled up on the double sofa the coffee table pulled adjacent to it. Laptop opened and papers everywhere. Jesus Christ. I’m a teacher and I don’t have this much files in my apartment. What the hell is going on?

I read. He wrote. The room was, I was aware of this the way you were aware of a temperature, as a thing the body registered before the mind classified it, the room was the most specific quality of quiet I had encountered in the weeks of this house. Not the quiet of absence, the quiet that existed in rooms when no one was in them, which was a passive thing, the room simply not being occupied. This was the quiet of presence. Of two people present and occupied and proximate and, not speaking.

The familiar sequence — key in the lock, the slight resistance of the door, the sound of her bag hitting the floor. Then Anne herself, stepping in with the exhaustion of someone who had been holding other people together all day. She dropped onto the couch. “Tell me the evening is going to be quiet.” “I made food,” Joy said. “You’re my favourite person.” They ate on the couch. No television. Just the quiet shift into evening. Joy was quieter than usual. “How was your day?” Anne asked. “Quiet. You?” Anne exhaled. “Tiring. One of my clients was having a harder day. Those ones stay with you.”

That whip-zip sound filled the cell I shared with mute Quincy. Speaking of Quincy, he was in his damn chair—same place he’d been all month. Zoned out, or better still, staring at nothingness like he was watching some movie in his head that only he could see. I let the yo-yo spin at the bottom, humming low like a saw, before tugging it back into my palm. “To earth o, Quinn,” I said without looking up. No answer. Just him, stiff in that chair, eyes hollow but burning.

Still watching. But here, for this moment, there is quiet.

The next morning, I went to the hospital. After paying for the surgery, I waited for my abortion. I saw Jake supporting Winnie as they came out of the ultrasound scan room. Once they sat down to check the ultrasound scan, Winnie pointed at the report to say something while Jake listened to her seriously. Occasionally, he would record something on his phone. When I saw this, I instinctively touched my belly, and my eyes stung. I did not want to make myself unhappy seeing them, so I prepared to leave, but Jake looked up and saw me.

Harry’s second-in-command spotted him rushing over and tried to give a report, but Harry cut him off in agitation. “Where is she? Where’s Lianne?” The second-in-command froze for a moment, then quickly pointed toward the entrance of the airport. “It was too chaotic just now. I only had time to take a picture for you. I haven’t been able to move her–” “Shut up!” Harry’s roar thundered in the space, his eyes bloodshot. Step by step, he walked toward the entrance, but the closer he got, the slower he moved. From a distance, he could already see a figure lying on the ground. That familiar coat stood out sharply against the cold pavement. Suddenly, he couldn’t bring himself to take another step.

I wanted to take it with me, to bury these ridiculous seven years for good. The office was pitch-dark, except for the light still on in the CEO's office. Wanting to say a final goodbye to Chelsea, I walked up to the door and reached for the handle. That was when I heard her voice, trembling with tears and something indistinct underneath. "Donald, don't. We can't do this…" My hand froze in midair.