Seeing Sound Novels & Stories

His aura was completely different when he was serious. 'Yes. I also wish the same thing.' I yawned and glanced at my watch—two in the morning. I sharpened my ear to catch all the sounds in and around the pack. I can hear the owl and the chicks. I do not just hear voices. I can see an image clearly if I block out all my thoughts and focus on my hearing sense. I knew where the voice came from and who it belonged to. It's not easy to do; I need total concentration. In this kind of chaotic state of mind, I can only rely on my keen and sensitive sense of hearing.

She tried for some seconds again, but still didn't get her. After some time, she heard, "Let's make this fun." As soon as she heard that, she suddenly felt her senses become elevated. She felt a strange, loud sound coming towards her side, but before she could try to feel what it was, She felt as if her body were moving on its own. She dodged the sound and quickly stretched her hand, holding the knife, toward where the sound came from.

it doesn't belong to me! My hearing sharpens, too, and it's the most overstimulating experience in the world. How am I supposed to think with all these sounds filling my ears? How do I shift back? I don't want this. I don't want anything to do with this. I'm crying for help and no words come out, just animal sounds. Tears make my vision blurry.

I kept my eyes fixed on it, every nerve in my body tight with waiting. And then I heard it. A sound unlike anything I’d ever heard before. The heavy thump of wings beating the air. Not like the flutter of a bird or the delicate rustle of an owl—it was deeper, louder, each flap echoing in my chest as if it was shaking the very air around me. My skin prickled, my body frozen in place as I listened to it grow louder and louder. Then I saw him.

Out. “What do you see?” “There’s a TV,” I say. My voice sounds thin. “I can hear it.” “That’s good,” Harper says, warm. “Where is it? Can you see it?” I look towards the sound. “It’s up high. On the wall.” “You hear it, can you hear the words?” I try but I can’t pick out individual words. My heart rate rises again and I shake my head. “No. I… I can’t.”

There is no pain at first, just this dull nothingness, a quiet that feels wrong in a way I cannot explain. Then something shifts. I can hear sounds, faint and distant, like it is traveling through water before it reaches me. A low vibration, uneven, followed by sharp growls. Another sound cuts through it, louder this time, urgent, layered with chaos. My brows knit together even though I am not fully awake, my mind tugging at the noise like it is trying to remember what it means. I hear shouting.

Her gaze locked onto the see-through hole, her eyes searching for a flicker of movement, a hint of life beyond the door. When no response came, Sheila knocked again, her patience wearing thin. She pressed her ear against the door, her werewolf senses on high alert. But instead of the expected sounds of footsteps, heartbeats, or breathing, an unsettling silence greeted her. Sheila's brow furrowed in confusion. Why couldn't she hear anything? She listened again, her ears straining to detect even the faintest whisper of sound. But the silence was oppressive, a heavy blanket that suffocated all noise. That was when she realized she could no longer hear distant sounds like she used to. That was s

Nothing was emitting the sounds I was hearing, and that was where it got stranger. I knew the sounds. My ears recognized the sounds, my brains…I recognized it. And the more I listened carefully, the clearer my mind became. The steadier my feet, the more my brain processed what it was that was happening, and the more I drew patterns. My eyes flying to actual angle where the sound seemed loudest. Behind my TV set. The wall there. “Could these be…could this…could this be moans?” I asked myself, disbelief. Confused. “Am I really hearing moans right now? Moans. Through my walls.”

“Just listen. Focus.” Frowning, I close my eyes and do as she says, trying to shut off my other senses to concentrate solely on the sounds around me. At first, it’s nothing but the usual…the rustle of the wind outside, birds chirping, Alison’s heart thumping steadily beside me. But then, something else filters through. It’s faint, like a low, distant grunt. I narrow my focus, letting the sound grow sharper in my mind. It’s definitely a grunt. Someone’s in pain.