Sonic Depression Novels & Stories

It gnawed at me like a constant ache, a reminder of the void that Cassidy’s absence had left behind. The heaviness of my thoughts feels like an anchor dragging me down into the depths of my own mind. It's as if I'm trapped in a never-ending darkness, a place where hope struggles to exist. Depression is a relentless specter that clings to every corner of my being. Its grip tightens with every passing moon, making even the simplest tasks feel like insurmountable mountains. The moon hangs high in the sky as I stand before Beta Achilles, the silver light casting an ethereal glow upon his masculine figure.

For if he hadn’t, he wouldn’t have known about Eva and Marie’s Sonic Clap. Sonic Clap was a sound based martial art that was difficult to study. Among the Undead, only a few with the exception of Eva and Marie had been able to study this skill and only three – two of them being the female assassins trying to kill Aiden – had been able to completely master it. Sonic Clap wasn’t as destructive as other martial arts, but it was very dangerous. Armed with the ability to destroy the eardrums of any who heard it and disorient as well as temporarily destroy the sense of balance of a person, Sonic Clap was not to be underestimated. Its greatest flaw however was that it was only best used as a sneak

He wasn't going to die, that he was certain. The pieces were finally together, the missing pieces to his little puzzle. Now, he is heading to the next murder scene. From his calculations, the killer will strike soon. The two families were killed two weeks apart and it's already over a week since the Ayodele's murder. Lex could still taste the water he had taken at the Ayodeles', everything seemed blurry to him now. His time at the Ayodele's, his encounter with the blood inscription. Music blared from his car radio. The cool, soothing tunes of Halsey could be heard. Her song: Now or Never was played. Lex liked the song. Very alternative. Unscrewing Lex's nuts, filling him with nostalgia, gi

They had a boy barely older than Jamie ring a handbell at every word Amen until the sound was a net. The House of Sacred Song knew what all devotions learn late: sound moves through stone. Sound holds. Sound binds. I do not know whether my hunger will learn to bind me stronger than their iron did. I fear the answer. I fear more that it will not. The night gave me its full attention. That is not a comfort. A siren far off keened like a priest who has forgotten which God he serves. A neighbor above her rooms argued with a box that vomited numbers. A drunk two streets over tried to fight a door and lost.

"Are you ok, uncle is no more." Hearing this she cried her heart out. "No this can't happen, he can't leave me. First mom left me and now dad. " She started wallowing because of too much stress she was unconscious. With the shock of her father's death, Sujata went into depression. Although she recovered she was always sad. She started going to her father's office but that was too depressing. One fine day Naman made her sit and then asked her. "Do you know the reason for uncle's death, he was cold-bloodedly murdered. " Naman took a seat next to her and started drawing soothing circles on the back of her palm.

"Yes, Perer. If you would mind telling me, please do." "Today, I thought about my depression and how it has been eating me slowly. Do you know what depression is?" "Yes I do," the therapist replied. "Well," I continued. "My depression has been feeding on me slowly. It has taken total control of my body and it is washing me away. Today, I heard the sound of the drum in my bedroom. The sound was not sharp neither was it clear. It was just there. It was from the sound of the drum that I learnt how long it takes for someone to die before he realize he is dead."

The storm took away the friend I just met and became close to when I just entered here, why so quickly and why Arena. Jane put her hand on my body, perhaps she understood my feelings at the same time as mixed and hurt. The funny Arena in my heart has disappeared, now that she is no more, I know what to do. The atmosphere of the surroundings began to sink, perhaps Arena's death was too sudden. The storm showed no sign of abating, but was getting stronger and stronger, the wind was stronger and stronger as if mourning the death of the unlucky girl. I can't hear the music anymore, maybe someone accidentally turned it on right at the moment when Arena crashed and now that she's dead they turn it

Then, like a thief sneaking back to the scene of the crime, I switched my phone on once more. I could not follow the rule about exposing it to the sunlight for three hours. It was pouring outside. The weather was so gloomy, just like the deep sea in my dreams. I tapped into the Echoes from Below application once more, but there was no sound. The waveform interface was gone and replaced by a basic discussion forum. There were not many posts, but every single title made the hair on the back of my neck stand.

“Fine, we would go together, but we must be sharp.” As they followed the small boy through the rain-soaked streets, the weight of their unresolved feelings lingered. The holes in their connections were deepening, and the ghosts of the past threatened to swallow them all. And somewhere in the distance, Lucian watched, his plans developing with cruel precision.

Anywhere but here. Depression. The curse is back, and is trying to eat up my mind. I turn to leave, but Sebastian grabs the doorknub before I could. “Move,” I say. The coldness in my own voice scares me. I’m turning into darkness. The kind of pure ruin that would harm everything around me, including myself. The worst is, I can’t stop it once it kicks in. “Don’t you want to know why Silco admitted to be Johnny Vanderbilt when he wasn’t?” Sebastian offers, his eyes filled with something like concern. But I could no longer feel.