Silence Novels & Stories

Not a single chirp but pairs and pairs that they unsure how many of it. Half of a minute, that's what it took for the those in nest to come, silently just their described by their name "The sãlnes" a k.a "The silence". They are very sensitive to sound, very sensitive, as much as breathe could be caught. They would prefer them silence, and then only sounds they love, maybe the ripping flesh and bone. No one know how it's look, that's all myth but maybe some information at this moment.

Silent. Staring at her with those dead eyes. More seconds passed. The air in the room felt wrong. Too thick. Too cold. Carmina took a step backward without meaning to. Then another. Her back hit the door. "Killian," she whispered. Nothing. The silence was worse than shouting. Worse than violence. It was the silence before something terrible happens. Carmina's heart was hammering in her chest. Her hands shaking so badly she could barely hold her cane. "Say something," she said.

"Told you, it's just for show. That little bird—I'm just waiting for her to crack." Then something slipped from his pocket. A box of rubbers. He cleared his throat. Rubbed his nose. Didn't bother lying. Walked me inside like none of it mattered. It went fast. I had aphasia—couldn't talk to strangers—but nodding was enough. The lawyer asked, "Divorce by mutual consent?" Nathan: "Yes." Me: nod. "Irreconcilable differences?" Nathan: "Yep." Me: nod. Signed. Stamped.

No one knew when it could reopen. Benjamin approached, wanting to offer some words of comfort, but nothing came. He, who could speak circles around anyone in business, now stood helpless and mute in front of her. Before he could speak, Nissa lifted her phone. Her eyes were dull, expression gray. On the screen was a single sentence. "Did you do this?" Benjamin froze. She suspected him? He could not believe it. A wave of cold ran through his chest, his heart gripped by grief, anger, and emptiness.

Lightsticks beamed brightly in the darkness, flooding the space with vibrant hues. "Silence speaks for those who listen." Kyle's magnetic voice came through as he jumped down the swing. The music gradually grew louder. "This song tells the story of a boy who took forever to understand the whispers of his silence, finally losing the girl he loves," he continued. "Hope you'll enjoy it."

Selene is realizing that silence has a lot to say. It isn't just an empty space. It grows, filling up all the little gaps, like the space between one breath and the next, the times when her gut used to scream warnings. When she wakes up, she can feel it pressing on her back, and it sits behind her eyes if she goes too long without speaking. It doesn't feel mean, but it's not friendly either. It's just... there.

I let it. Watched it. Until it stopped again. The silence that followed felt louder than the ringing. I exhaled slowly. “I can’t,” I said. “Okay.” That was it. No pressure. No disappointment. Just… acceptance. I pressed the side button. The screen went dark. Then I held it for a second longer. And turned it off completely. The quiet returned. But this time, it felt different. Not heavy. Not overwhelming. Just… still. I looked up at Aiden.

They sat in the silence, heavy with raw emotion, the palpable tension thickening with each passing second. It was a silence punctuated only by muted sounds—a sigh, a slight shuffle of clothing, or a steadying exhale. Each noise echoed the myriad feelings that had been shared, suppressed, and exposed in their shared space.

…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

Silence. Real silence — the absence of them, sudden and total, like a sound you'd stopped noticing until it was gone. He felt it leave — the pressure, the cold threading through his thoughts, the weight of that certainty they carried — and what was left was just him and the bank and the water and the sound of his own breathing coming too fast and ragged in the quiet. He slumped.