Silence A Novels & Stories

Instead, she shoved me toward my bedroom. "Get inside! Stop embarrassing us!" I staggered from the force of her push and slammed into the doorframe. She forced me into the room, and I heard the clear click of the lock from outside. "Stay in there and think about what you've done. You can come out when you understand." With a bang, the door shut. The world instantly went quiet. All that remained was my heavy, weakening breath. I threw myself against the door, using every bit of strength I had to pound on it and scream, but even I could barely hear the sound I made.

On the infirmary door, beneath the title, I write the same sentence we added yesterday at Lunathiel’s request: “If you don’t understand, ask. Silence is not punishment; it helps.” Mae rises from her table, scans the lines, and says only: “This will work — because it’s short.” “And because it’s true,” I reply. In the kitchen, the cook and his two assistants stand by the fire. One of the assistants instinctively goes to strike the copper bell to signal the next dish, then laughs and instead raises his hand: wide palm, half-circle downward — our “soft” sign. The other nods and brings the bowl. No clatter. This kind of silence I love — it has purpose.

He nodded to me, and motioned for silence. “That print doesn’t belong to one of ours,” he whispered. “And you said none of your agents should be in this area?” he asked Marcus. Marcus bent close to the print, probably checking the scent. “It is not one of mine,” he reported, voice sober. “All right then. This training patrol just became the real thing,” Ronan said. “That’s fine. Clara, you stay in the lead. Marcus, you fan out a little to her right, I’ll take the left. Anyone spots another sign, signal silently.”

Desperately. And everything goes silent.

When she was here trying to get close to him and get his trust. The man sat in silence, his eyes downcast and his mind lost in a labyrinth of thoughts. The air around him was heavy with unspoken words, suffocating in their weight. He had come to this prison seeking silence, not to be bothered by a stupid genius therapist. The silence caressed their skins like a cool summer breeze, smoothing their souls, and taking away her jagged edges. It had been one hell of a rough day. He was still looking at the white ceiling ignoring all her tries. "Aah," she sighed and began walking towards him until she found herself stopped in front of him.

We try to come up with a solution for that problem when we start hearing noises outside. "Down on your Knees! Don't test my patience boy! I won't hesitate to use this." I hear one of the guard's voice ring out from the darkness with nothing but the torch light illuminating the place. "I am going to connect to the speakers and play loud deafening music. The second that happens, you break the window. The music might be able to drown the noise a bit." Ian says as soon as the lights come back. He does exactly as he says and loud music starts blaring through the speakers. But as soon as it started, we hear a gunshot and the music stops just as quickly. My heart starts beating loudly, breaking the

Alessandro looked at Leonardo. Leonardo answered. “He ordered the deaths of everyone who knew about the ledger.” Zara felt a chill. “My mother.” “Not directly,” Leonardo said. “But he gave the order.” “Who carried it out?” Leonardo looked at her. “Leonardo.” Zara’s heart stopped. She looked at the man standing beside them. “You?” Leonardo’s face fell. “I was ordered to silence her.” “But you didn’t.” “No.” “What happened?” Leonardo’s voice cracked.

He typed something. Read it back. Deleted it. Typed something else — shorter, more indirect, something that could be read as neutral if she showed it to anyone. Deleted that too. He put the phone face down on the mattress beside him. He picked it back up. The thing about silence was that it was supposed to get easier. That was the general principle — distance and time and the deliberate removal of contact were supposed to dull something, make it manageable, turn it into something you could put in a drawer and close.

…Selena's pov… As I arrived at the designated meeting point, Silence's words struck me with a sense of unease. He instructed me to turn off my phone—a demand that challenged my instinctual need for control and communication. Despite the urge to protest, I understood the gravity of the situation. With a reluctant nod, I powered off my phone, severing the last thread connecting me to the outside world. Led by Silence, I ventured deeper into the enigmatic building. The air held a subtle mix of secrecy and anticipation, tangible enough to make my skin prickle with anticipation. The corridors were dimly lit, casting long shadows that seemed to whisper secrets to those who listened.

No applause. Only silence. And in that silence , Truth.