Silent Library Game Show Novels & Stories

c⁠lench, finally began to dissolve. Once th‍e p‍lates were cl‍e‌ared, I leaned my chin on my hand. "Since you’re doing so well with the sil‌ence‌, let’s move to level tw‌o. The 'What If' Gam‌e. But remembe⁠r⁠ the rules, you can⁠'t be a Blackwood in any of these scenarios." Luci‍en leaned back, his silver eyes‍ reflecting⁠ the candleli‍ght. "Proceed."

That silence was worse than the messages. At least when he texted… She knew he was there. Now— Nothing. A sudden ringing sound broke the silence. Maya’s phone. She looked at the screen and frowned. “I need to take this,” she said, stepping away. Aria nodded slowly. She watched as Maya walked into the other room. Her voice is low. Serious. Aria could not hear everything. Just small parts. “Now?” “…I said I am not there…” “…I will come back…”

“It took you exactly four minutes and twelve seconds.” Another line appeared. “You’re getting slow.” My pulse darkened dangerously. “Did you really think I’d make it that easy?” The final lines appeared slowly. “The real game is just beginning.” A pause. “Tell Elara I said her Shadow Collection is beautiful.” My jaw tightened harder. “Especially the one she cried over.” The screen went black instantly. Silence swallowed the room whole. Elara stared at the dark monitor with visible shock. “She wanted us to find it,” she whispered.

"You know Russian roulette. Seven chambers. One bullet. We take turns. Three pulls each. If we're both alive after six, I'll forgive you." Manuel went still. "Do you really have to be this cold?" "Yeah." Her voice didn't shift. "As long as I'm alive, I can't forgive you. So we leave it to fate. If we both make it, maybe that means I should." "Fine." Manuel clenched his jaw. "Then fate gets to decide." He snatched the revolver off the table, pressed it to his temple, and pulled the trigger. Click. Empty. Shiloh's turn.

At the DeLuca Family banquet announcing its new advisor, Matteo said he was going to end nine years of secrecy and finally acknowledge our relationship in public. I stood in the back row of the banquet hall, so nervous I'd crumpled my prepared speech into a ball. Over nine years, I'd cleaned up the port books for him three times, negotiated two cross-border shipping routes, and taken a bullet for him. Everyone knew the DeLuca Family had a female advisor who never showed her face, but no one knew I was that woman. I thought that after tonight, I would finally stop being his shadow. Until the screen at the front of the banquet hall lit up. There was no photo of us. Instead, there was only a si

“Fifty! Fifty thousand dollars for Silent!” Her audaciousness struck a nerve, a nerve that tingled in amusement and irritation. I rubbed the button on my shirt and curled my fingers around the edges of the board. The game was fun while it lasted, but I was done playing. “One hundred thousand.” “One hundred thousand dollars from Number Seventy-Five for Silent. Anyone?” Her board stayed down, and her voice remained trapped in her mouth. I uncrossed my legs when the anchor announced the winner of the Silent brawl.

Open the gate. The titanium dome didn't budge. Instead, a voice—cold, ancient, and layered with the static of a thousand years—vibrated through the water itself. "Identity requested. Provide the final verse of the Silence." "The final verse?" I gasped, my lungs feeling tight. "Nevan, it’s a password. Something from the nursery rhymes my mother used to sing."

“Come out, come out, wherever you’re hiding, you flaming-haired freak!” Another bang. “You know what time it is!” another girl chimed in, high-pitched and nasal. “Time for everyone’s favourite game—let’s humiliate the charity case!” “Get out before we come to get you, bitch!” the first snapped, now low and cruel. Sierra didn’t move. Not yet. Not until her hands stopped shaking. The shadows might be quiet… but they remembered. The pounding stopped. So did the voices. Sierra sat motionless for another five minutes, counting the thump of her heartbeat and the seconds between shadow whispers. Twenty-three. Twenty-four…

MELISSA’S POV A deafening silence loomed over the game table which now gleamed under the dim candle lights at the corners of the room. The floor was completely covered with all sorts of weapons for some unknown reason. Then the system’s voice hummed softly above us, consequently breaking the silence. “Welcome to Round One of tonight’s entertainment. As a treat— I will not be taking anymore lives today,” it informed, its tone laced with excitement. A sigh of relief ran through the room, but immediately died in the player's throat when the system concluded. “At least not directly."

"The physical drive is mid-purge. But the 'Geneva Protocol' has a hardware anchor. It won't delete unless I manually bypass the thermal lock. I need three minutes of absolute silence, Willa. If they double back before the bar hits 100%, the secret is out." The screaming whine of the industrial torch above us suddenly cut out. The silence that followed was heavier than the darkness. "They stopped," I said, my heart skipping a beat. "Silas, the decoys... they aren't moving anymore. They’re standing still in the West Wing." "Why?" Silas asked, not looking up.