Silent Circles Novels & Stories

I heard so many to give me headache, many students were passing by, It wasn't something I could control, on moving further, I could hear him, he was guilty and in pain, but I couldn't find him, but I when I get close to the wall I was turning my back to, he's thought get louder, it wasn't surprising if he was in the wall. Stuffs like that didn't surprise me anymore, but How can I get through it, I thought and look at the necklace in my hand, a pendant of a snowflake and a shiny silver ring was on it, it was beautiful and from the texture it looks like pure silver, but the snowflake was white, couldn't guess what it was made off but it was very pretty. I was still staring at the pendant and t

Suddenly all sound within the circle died and Matt and Camden were shrouded in total and absolute silence. "What just happened? Why's it so quiet? What happened to the crickets?" Camden asked, looking around the circle nervously. "I don't know... That was weird," Matt agreed, searching the circle himself for some kind of explanation. "Clayton?" she called, expecting a response, but when she glanced over at where he'd been standing just moments ago, he was gone. In fact, the whole perimeter of the circle appeared to be blurry, as if behind frosted glass. "Where's Clayton?!" she cried, rushing to the edge of the circle where she'd just said her goodbyes to him. "Do you think he can hear us? Wi

A dull ache settled in Manuel's chest. "I'll take Rainee upstairs first," he said quietly. "I'll be right back." He carried Rainee away. Manuel never came back that night. Instead, Shiloh got a call from the Aerospace Agency. "Professor Schaffer, are you sure you want to join the Space Elevator Project? It's classified. Once you're in, you'll be based there for decades. No outside contact. Not even with your husband." "I'm sure," Shiloh said calmly. "I already filed for divorce. In a week, once the waiting period is over, I'll get the signed decree. No more ties. A project cut off from the world is exactly what I need."

Low and deep, the single word carried an unconcealable excitement, yearning, and lust. For a few seconds, absolute silence dominated the clearing. The hoots of the night owls, the whistle of the night breeze, and the constant titters of the night crickets all disappeared. For a brief moment, it was as if time itself had stopped. There was absolute silence. “Mate…it’s you, isn’t it?” The thrilled voice of the entranced female cautiously rang out again, the slight tremble in her tone conveying her nervousness. Thud…thud…

The silence came like a held breath, silver noticed it when she woke. She lay still beneath the furs, eyes open, waiting for the familiar brush of sound along the edges of her thoughts. The whispers had become a constant companion over the past weeks, unwelcome but predictable. They curled through her mind at odd hours, pressed into her insecurities, named her fractures with cruel intimacy. This morning, there was nothing, no murmur or presence. Her chest tightened. She sat up slowly, pressing two fingers to her temple as if she could coax the sound back. The quiet stretched, deep and unnatural, like a forest emptied of birds, it was too still.

**Kelly Thompson's POV** The silence isn't silent. It's a vacuum, a pressure that gnaws at the eardrums, leaving behind a phantom tinnitus-a high-pitched whine that isn't sound but the *absence* of it. The Valley of Echoes stretches before us, its jagged obsidian spires clawing at a sky stripped of color. Eden's breaths are shallow, deliberate, his hands clenched to stifle the faint hum still leaking from his scars. The Cantor's melody is quieter now, but not gone. A sleeping beast, not a dead one.

The drive over to the apartment was filled with an uncomfortable silence. Unasked questions hung in the air like a thick fog. Beads of sweat prickled on the back of the drivers neck as he too was smothered by the tension in the car. The seconds felt like minutes as the road seemed to stretch longer and longer before her eyes. Letting her eyes close, Thea suppressed a sigh as she leant her head against the window, she ignored the drumming of her head against the window as they drove over the bumpy terrain. Bellamy’s words playing on repeat in her head, ‘like our souls recognise each other’.

Her eyes were wide, the pupils glowing with a soft, steady radiance that was the only source of light in the darkness. “The heart of the old world’s chaos,” she whispered, her voice a mix of relief and a dawning, jagged dread. “A city built on noise and survival. It’s the only place on this planet loud enough to drown out my signature. The Obsidian Circle looks for patterns, for silence, for order. Here, there is none.”

Lucas asked, his hand still on Elena’s arm, as if he could feel it too. “It listens,” Arthur said. He kicked at the mud, looking suddenly like the old gardener again. “For decades, Silas listened. He heard every secret in the Glass House. But he was listening for big things plans, rebellions, lies. My seed was smaller. Quieter. It doesn’t listen for words. It listens for the pattern.” He looked at Elena, his eyes shining with a fierce light. “It listens for the unique, quiet rhythm of a mind that has been… edited. Silenced. The pattern of the ‘Still Children.’ And when it hears that pattern…”

“But I’m still standing.” ​Suddenly, a high-pitched, melodic chime echoed from the Hub behind us. I turned and saw Silas standing on the balcony of the gatehouse. He was holding a handful of the silver shards, his face illuminated by a brilliant, flickering blue light. He had managed to patch into the external speakers.