Siren Blink Novels & Stories

Bellamy chewed on his finger nails as he paced up and down the living room of Thea and Penny’s apartment. “Are you sure we can trust this Alex person?” “Yes, we can trust Alex… Bellamy, we would never put Lissa in harms way,” Thea tried to reassure Bellamy. “So, what, is she a siren as well? How will she even be able to protect Lissa?” Bellamy cracked his knuckles. “No, she’s not a Siren, there’s only 3 of us and plenty capable of protecting Lissa, just not from a bunch of psycho witches.” Penny stretched out on the couch resting her legs on Thea.

I couldn't help but think if they were actually right about Uncle Adrian. Growling angrily, I shrieked at the sirens. To my utter surprise, the sirens stopped in their places, as if someone might have frozen them in their tracks. They were all staring at me with utter surprise on their faces. The siren song also stopped right after. It was surprising that they didn't stop when Moon shrieked at them with the similar powers but they stopped when I shrieked at them.

Physically, afflicted sirens exhibit muscle weakness, pallor, and respiratory distress, while emotionally, they endure anxiety and a sense of displacement. Ultimately, the Blue Rose Disease is a death sentence for sirens who stay out of their home for too long. At the words; A death sentence. A frown appears in Athena's lips.

The sirens sliced through the night, red and blue lights painting the empty streets. As Damon gripped the wheel, staring ahead, every nerve in my body screaming to move faster. Hang on, Hannah. I’m coming.

He jammed his pipe between two supports, levering, redirecting the fall, so it created a rough barrier instead of a crushing wave—turning the Game’s own stacks into makeshift cover. Selene’s attention snapped to the rising black water. The siren figures unfurled, mouths opening wider, song swelling as they reached for my ankles with long, dripping hands. Behind them, the Administrator’s core glowed brighter, code‑threads bunching, about to spit a concentrated blast of system energy straight at us. “Oh, no, you don’t,” she hissed.

“Do it.” Lunaris lifted her hand. The harbor torches bowed. The bay lifted a little, water rethinking gravity. The crescent on Sienna’s wrist opened like an eye. Light, not fire, poured into her bones, filling hollows the way truth fills a silence. She bit the inside of her cheek and tasted iron. She didn’t make a sound.

I asked, my voice barely a whisper in the gloom. Silas tapped the device; a tiny red light blinked once, twice, then stayed solid. "Not long," he said; his face was hidden in the shadows, but I could hear the exhaustion in his tone. "The signal is evolving; it’s trying to bypass the jammer. We have until dawn; then we have to move again."

And a red light blinked to life. Recording.

It quivered, holy and ridiculous. Tony ducked, peeked, crossed himself with the speed of a man who’d practiced both sin and forgiveness. “Thank you,” he whispered, and hauled on the bottle like a lifeline. The Siren bucked. Not a wave. Something else. The kind of jolt that rearranges organs. Cabin Stephen bounced off a bulkhead, breath gone. “Jesus Christ! What the hell was that?!” Compasses spun drunk. Radar snowed and stuttered. He grabbed the CB. “Base, come in—this is the Siren! Over!”