Requiem For A Loud 소설 & 이야기

The system was on the fritz! The place went nuts in no time. Someone in the crowd hollered, "Hey? Doesn't that voice sound a bit familiar?" Jocelyn could not stop smirking, arms folded like she was in the front row at the best show in town. "Tsk! Doesn't that sound a lot like Tessa? No way, right? The brainiac's got some game after all, huh?" Eric looked like he had swallowed a lemon, trying to cut in. "Cut it out, guys, just…"

I set the timer on the coffee machine and waited patiently for the one liquid that might be able to set everything back to normal. “There’s a prisoner in the Hillburgh cell. He needs you to break this particular prisoner and get her to confess.” “Her?” I mused. “That’s new. What’s her crime?” “High treason.” He said usually like it was nothing. I blew a long whistle. “That’s a damn shame. Who’s the broad?” I poured out the coffee and blew on the fumes before sipping the foam and feeling the first thrill run through my spine. Coffee was heaven.

he weakly uttered as he sniffled softly. Kelvin pulled the birthday boy into a hug. "You're welcome. You're happy, right?" Kinsley nodded vigorously in response. "Good." The older boy chuckled. From a distance, by one of the windows of the school building, someone is gritting his teeth. "Tsk. He's too happy and crying over an effing phone,” he muttered. * * * "The great deaf is here!" One young werewolf announced as Kinsley entered a large room for the monthly meeting of the aspiring hunters, trackers, and warriors, even healers of the pack. The pack members in this group are ages twelve to seventeen, who will soon be given their rank.

“I spent and lost 7 months with you. I want to make this right. I messed up, big time many times but I want to make it right. One chance is all I ask” “20 questions?” “What?” “Let's get to know each other. 20 questions” ~10 mins later~ “Back the hell up!! You never went to freaking Primark!?” “… No…” “TK Max?” “… No …” “Umm… Claires?” “No…” “Shut… up” “I-“ “Do you know who Ice Spice is?” “Am I supposed to??” “She is a freaking singer. My favourite one, currently.” “Love, I don’t–“

Hendrik sounded slurry. Tears rapidly gathered in my eyes as an unbearable pain pilled in my chest. “N…” I tried to speak between breathes. “Yes, Rin she’s dead, just like you are going to be after I’m done with you, Guess I’m going to be the one responsible for sending you to hell like everyone close to you,” He got on his feet lifting up his weapon. I felt the sharp blades cut through my skin as blood leaked extensively. Melancholy screams escaped my lips. Repeatedly he assaulted my defenseless body until I my voice was lost.

She curled her hand into a fist and pressed it there like she could hold onto it, but the emptiness spread wider the longer she lay still. For a moment she kept her eyes shut, breathing through the silence. But the silence wasn’t clean; it pressed on her chest, heavy, layered with sounds that weren’t really there — echoes of raised voices, boots crunching gravel, the metallic click of guns being cocked. She’d heard it last night through the walls, and even though Rhett had come back, even though he had slid into bed behind her like he was staking a claim, the noise lived on inside her.

My limbs went numb, my eyes rolled back, and the last thing I felt was the cold floor of the van as the doors slammed shut, plunging me into total darkness. My eyes opened in a new world of shadows and sharp, jagged edges. The transition from the velvet blackness of unconsciousness to reality was violent. My head throbbed with a sickening pulse that seemed to sync perfectly with the heavy bass of music blasting from somewhere nearby. It was loud, obnoxious, distorted club music that vibrated through the concrete floor and rattled my very teeth.

Amy stood behind the podium, a confident smile on her face as cameras flashed and reporters jotted down notes. The room buzzed with mutters, the media eager to hear her announcement. "Thank you all for coming," Amy began, her voice smooth and authoritative. "I'm excited to announce that Richardson and Silvester Group will be merging. This union will create unprecedented opportunities for growth and innovation."

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.

He put it to the highest volume so that he won’t hear any noise aside from his music. Meanwhile, a loud noise can be heard in a nearby house. The breaking sound of the glass that comes off the table rang out in the whole house. There, a guy came out of the house while hanging his empty bag on his shoulder. He has this blank and emotionless face while walking out of the house. He looked at his own Harry Winston wrist watch that was a gift to him by his father.