Novelas y relatos de Silent Voice

Cause we even sleep in one small bed back in the village with his shirtless all around but I found no sparks, maybe because I’m just trying to ignore him and convinced myself that It was just a part of me idolizing him as my best friend but the more it gets longer the heavier it gets for me to hold this feelings of mine towards this guy with the same name as mine. He ordered foods then we ate like a freaking mute for not uttering even a single word until we finished. And I tell you, it wasn’t that painful to hold yourself to not speak especially when you’re facing the man that you secretly like cause you tried to watch every words that comes out of your mouth and making sure that it is all g

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.

Sophia We walk in silence, the sounds of the forest enveloping us. The crunch of leaves beneath our feet, the distant call of an owl, the soft whisper of the wind through the trees—these are the only noises that fill the air between us. Yet, the silence isn’t empty. It’s thick, almost alive, vibrating with all the things left unsaid, all the emotions neither of us is willing to voice.

“ Meara!” The whispers started again, soft but notable. I tensed, my eyes snapping open. I scanned the field, but there was no one in sight. The sound seemed to come from the tree itself, from the rustling of its leaves. I pressed my palms against the rough bark and closed my eyes, focusing on the whispers. " Come... find... me..." The words were faint but distinct. My heart raced. Was I losing my mind, or was there something more to these whispers? I stood up, brushing the dirt off my jeans, and took a few steps back. The whispers grew louder, more insistent.

I said. The silence that enveloped the Astropheles was a new kind of silence. It wasn't the tense hush of hiding, the profound void of the Stillness, or the grim quiet of a battlefield after the fight. This was a deep, resonant, and utterly peaceful silence. The silence of a story that had reached its natural, satisfying conclusion. The universe hummed along without us, a symphony of self-sustaining narratives, and we were finally, truly, audience members.

The deeper he went, the more frantic he became. He called my name over and over again, but no one answered. Laila had followed him outside, and finally, she snapped. "Philip, stop. Grace's a grown woman. She's not lost—she's just being dramatic again. Why are you making this such a big deal—" "Shut up!" Philip snapped, turning on her with fire in his eyes. "Keep your mouth shut, or get the hell out of my sight!" He kept moving, heart thudding with every step.

The echo of the forest’s rage lingered — trees clawing at me, the earth splitting, the wind shrieking. Within the blink of an eye, silence draped itself over everything — A heavy, dead silence. Its wifht pressed down even much more, draining life our of me. But with every passing moment that life slips out of me, it feeds this dead silence like a zombie feeds on brains. And so, this silent wasn't dead anymore. It now had a pulse. I might still be a subject to delusion because it felt like this silence had a voice too. I heard a faint hum rolled through the emptiness until suddenly a flicker of light exploded through the air.

**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.

POV: Lucian Voss There’s something I’ve always respected more than loud voices or angry words. Silence. Not the kind you get when the power goes out or when a room empties suddenly. I mean real silence—the kind that settles deep into your bones and makes every breath feel louder than it should. The kind of silence that doesn’t beg for attention… it demands it. It walks into a room and takes control without saying a single word. That’s the kind of silence I stood in now.

She didn’t trust her voice, not yet. Silas paced. One hand raked through his hair, the other flexed at his side, restless, too full of things he couldn’t hurl into the room. He hadn’t spoken a word since they left the hall. Not one. “You’re going to rip us apart with your silence,” she finally muttered. He turned. Slowly. His gaze caught hers like a snare. And when he spoke, his voice was low, almost a growl: “Better silence than words I can’t take back.”