Novel & Cerita Silent Twins Story

His violet eyes were full of a desperate, dying light. "Elara... find... the... Author..." he wheezed. "I'm the Author, Silas!" I cried, my voice fading. "No," he whispered. "The **other** one." The doors slammed shut. Silas was gone. I was left alone in the lab, the violet root in my chest glowing dimly as the scientists began to sharpen their scalpels. But as my eyes closed for what I thought was the last time, I heard a sound. A typewriter.

My hands were still stained with the indigo brine of the trench, and my heart was heavy with the silence coming from the loading ramp where Winnie had vanished into the deep. ​Silas didn’t look up. His face was ghost-white, illuminated by the frantic, flickering blue of the silver shards embedded in the ship’s mainframe. His right hand was a blur of motion, while the stump of his left arm twitched in rhythmic sympathy with the ship’s laboring computer.

"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.

Silas won’t let her go just because you surrender. “I know,” Faith whispered, leaning close so only he could hear. “But they think I’m scared. They think I can’t control the spark. When I get close to the lead Silencer, I’m going to short out their comms. When the lights go dark, you jump.” Killian’s eyes searched hers. He saw the genius mind behind the ‘Dud’ mask. He gave a single, sharp nod. Faith stepped out into the snow, her hands raised. The three remaining Silencers moved toward her, their purple staves glowing. The black helicopter lowered, the wind from the blades kicking up a blinding cloud of white powder.

Thorne asked, looking up from his files. Silas never broke eye contact with me. A slow, terrifying, psychopathic smile spread across his face as he felt the silver burning through his muscles, his blood soaking the carpet floor. "Not at all, Dad," Silas whispered, his voice raspy as he leaned closer to me, his golden eyes burning into my soul while he bled out in silence. "Everything is just fucking perfect."

He didn’t come home often, and when he did, it always ended in confrontation. Mrs. Silvester felt broken, witnessing her family falling apart. She had been trapped in a marriage where her role was nothing more than a controlled puppet, just as her son was now being controlled by her husband. Eryx’s parents didn’t know the truth about him—that he was homosexual. If Mr. Silvester had known, he would have forced Eryx into a marriage with Amy without a second thought. For now, it seemed best to keep that truth hidden.

I ask striding over to the tree he is sitting under, "No," he replies, "What's going on?" thankfully, I find someone that also has a problem, "You know the Silent Man?" oh, it's a Silent Man problem too, interesting, "Everybody knows the Silent Man," I reply, "Well, I was in the hospital a while ago and he told me to act like I lost my memories around everyone I know even though I haven't lost a single memory. I can't do it anymore. I can't see my family upset. He threatened to kill my family if I don't do it," what the actual heck?

I remembered gripping her neck when I was blind, and how she couldn’t even plead for mercy then. I allowed her to continue to speak, feeling guilty for having silenced her once already. “If you still don’t feel that we’re mates, if you still don’t love me, then I’ll step aside. I’ll let go and I’ll never bother you again. Just give me this one chance to prove I’m your fated one. Please.”

She didn’t know then that some silences weren’t empty. They were waiting. Waiting for the moment they could break everything open.

Wife… Malcolm sighed, it seemed he was getting too used to the term—and he seemed to love it. Just then, his phone rang and at the sight of the caller’s ID, he quickly signaled the whipping to stop. He ordered that Yolanda be gagged to avoid making a noise, soon, the noise-filled tunnel was as silent as a graveyard. Only then did Malcolm answer the phone, making a low growl to indicate to who it was that he was listening. He didn’t say a word but minutes later, his face turned grave and like lightning, he was gone.