Silent Breath Steam Novels & Stories

"That sounds nice." "That's belief," he said simply. “I don't doubt what I don't see. I can feel it! ”He explained to her. He stood in front of her. "Close your eyes." He asked and Alissa obeyed after a moment's hesitation. He gently stroked her cheek with his finger. "Do you feel that?" She nodded. "What was that?" He wanted to know. "Your finger."

I watched each hair falling on the sink. I placed back the pair of scissors on the sink near the pack of black crystal reaching my hand for the roll of bandages on the sink. I carefully wrapped it around my breast, until I couldn’t see any of that god forsaken part of my body. I pulled the old grey hoodie and pair of old jeans from the chair beside me wearing them. I took the pack of black crystal and shoved it at the back of my jeans. One last time I stared at the new Siren Weapon before me.

But for now, I can afford a break to enjoy these fleeting moments of silence and peace. I lower my hood and remove my blade from my back, placing it down next to a rock. Then I take out my canteen and slowly fill it up in the clear, cool stream. The water flows effortlessly over the rocks, casting small shadows from the sun’s heavy gaze. I close my eyes, trying to memorize the sound, storing it away for a day when I need to center myself and escape the reality that is my life.

Steam rose almost immediately, the building impatient with winter. Celeste leaned her hip against the counter and closed her eyes, letting the cool laminate press against her bone. The ache behind her eyes pulsed in time with the kettle’s building song. The pressure behind her eyes flared—brief and sharp, like someone tapping on glass. She inhaled slowly through her nose, counted to four, then let it go. The pressure loosened, receded, and agreed to wait. “Later,” she said, her voice sounding strange, as if it had been sitting unused on a shelf all day.

One page at a time. One person at a time. One still, deep, patient day at a time. Until the water found its level. And the room became real. And the invisible all the invisible became seen. THE SILENT LUNA End of Volume One

​The transition to a quiet life had been successful, or so we told ourselves. Our cottage, perched on the edge of a cliff overlooking the Zaros Sea, was isolated enough to feel like a sanctuary. But silence in our world was rarely an end to the story; it was usually just a pause. ​It started on a Tuesday night. The coastal town of Oakhaven was quiet, the only sound of the rhythmic pulse of the tide against the rocks below. Julian was in the small shed we used for repairs, fiddling with an antique shortwave radio he had salvaged from a local scrap heap. He liked the static—he said it reminded him of the white noise he used to hear when he was linked to the network.

My breaths come in pants, my heart frantic in my chest, I try to swing my hands but I can’t even blink, goodness! No. No, No damn it! “The mixture that makes it difficult to concentrate. Created for one just like you, I heard it’s calming, I didn't want you to fight me, you might hurt yourself. It will not harm you; you’ll be fine in a few hours.” He says this calmly as he pushes my curtain to the side and lays my window open. Fuck! I reach from that place deep inside me and I almost scream when I find it empty. How…?

My muscles ache, buzzing with the strain of a future I’m about to seize by the throat. I peel off my clothes—too tight, too formal—and let them drop in a careless heap. The shower tiles are cold under my feet when I step in, and the moment the hot water rains over me, the world fades into steam and silence. My eyes flutter shut. Heat loosens the knots in my shoulders. For a few sacred seconds, I stop being the future Alpha, the strategist, the threat. I’m just… breathing. The steam thickens. The water drowns out the world.

And then, the silence hit me. The silence of the bathroom. The silence of my own thoughts. I slowly opened my eyes, blinking against the blurring steam. I looked down at my hand. I looked at the mess I had made in the water. I listened to myself. I was still moaning softly, a tiny, pathetic whimper escaping my lips. Oh god.

Diego followed the purple mist which led her to a room with no door, the singing had now grown stronger. When Diego walked in the room, the lights that lit the passageway had completely died out. The room was dark except for the purple mist that poured out from the Black Spirit. “Why have you come?” the Spirit demanded in a mocking tone. Diego replied calmly “Your singing…is distracting me from thinking.” The Spirit chuckled, “Thinking?” Diego took a few more steps. She found the Black Spirit on the wet floor sitting with its head facing down. Diego couldn’t see her clearly because of the darkness, but she knew who that was...