Soundless Book Novels & Stories

A ferocious roar filled his ears, seemed to fill up the whole world, and he could feel the vibrations as the panther gave chase. As he started down the stairs, he tried to kick the door closed behind him but he also didn’t want to pause even for a second, and he didn’t think his kick was forceful enough to get the door closed all the way. He picked up his speed, nearly tumbling down the stairs, sure that he could feel the breath of the animal on his neck. He raced to the closest bookshelf, full of hardback volumes by Stephen King. Hoping to buy himself a little more time, he grabbed one of the thicker books—Bag of Bones—and hurled it toward the stairs just as the panther came into the librar

The studio, usually bustling with activity, felt different today, as if it were holding its breath, waiting for something to unfold. Franc stood by the Letters That Waited shelf, fingertips tracing the titles like counting breaths. Each book was a story, a moment captured in time, waiting to be rediscovered. Ren was nearby, calibrating the sound loop with meticulous care. Today’s audio was different—layered silence. No voices. Just bamboo creaks, the brush of wind, and heartbeat pulses barely audible, a symphony of nature’s whispers. “I call it ‘Stayed Still,’” she said, her voice soft yet resonant, as if the words themselves were part of the soundscape.

“The little auditor who thought she could balance the books of hell will be left all alone in the wreckage, with nothing but the silence for company.” The iron-bound book on the pedestal suddenly stopped flipping with a heavy thud that shook the floor. It lay open now, the two blank pages glowing with an inner light that looked like burning embers. It was waiting. The pen, a sharp silver quill that looked more like a needle, sat beside it, gleaming in the red dark.

The life she was building. She stopped at a small bookstore, browsed for a while, then bought herself a novel she’d been wanting. Simple pleasures. Normal things. For a moment, she wondered what it would be like to have a quiet relationship like the couple she saw holding hands across the street. No spotlight. No secrets. Then her phone vibrated with a text from Kai: **Kai:** Where are you, baby? Come home. I miss my pussy. The heat returned instantly. She smiled and headed back toward the penthouse.

📖 ⸻ Unlike every other book… It had no title. ⸻ No author. ⸻ No pages visible. ⸻ Only a black cover. ⸻ The moment Ilyaan saw it… Pain exploded through his mind. ⚡💥⚡ ⸻ Memories flooded his soul. ⸻ The Silent Sea. ⸻ The First War. ⸻ Auren. ⸻ The Second Dreamer. ⸻ And someone else. ⸻ Someone completely forgotten. ⸻

Lightsticks beamed brightly in the darkness, flooding the space with vibrant hues. "Silence speaks for those who listen." Kyle's magnetic voice came through as he jumped down the swing. The music gradually grew louder. "This song tells the story of a boy who took forever to understand the whispers of his silence, finally losing the girl he loves," he continued. "Hope you'll enjoy it."

Something that shouldn't be disturbed in the house of silence, not far from the killing square. Hope sprang in this house, and her tidy walls did rattle with joy. It was the most the house could do, for if she was capable of more, her silver and goldwares, plates, and cups would have left their racks and cupboards to make high-pitched sounds. Beds, sofas, stools, chairs, and tables would have joined in, causing a ruckus to attract attention. But this was a house that was not to be noticed. A house cursed to create nothing but whispers. A house that wasn't a house.

Tumbling in a crashing, cascading waterfall ‘round corners, hurtling downward into sudden calm. The almost imperceptible rustle of shadows clinging to corners. And whispers on the delicate, fraying edges of dream. Voices mumbling. Low. Impossible to hear, to understand. but there, nonetheless. Syllables caught, sometimes, if she were to listen. Yet sleep called, those tattered edges skirted, exhaustion enveloping her. The whispers now words saying There is no book as Eidolon coaxed her from day into dream. ***

Miguel, on the other hand, looked for it on the Internet, in various online stores and auctions. Unfortunately, it turned out that this book had only a few copies and was therefore extremely difficult to find. Most shops either did not know about its existence or never had this book in their collections and only heard legends about it. It could mean two things - either this book simply did not exist, or it was so dangerous that only the initiated had it in their book collections. Maria rejected the first option because she trusted her dreams and gut feelings now even more than before. Therefore, Miguel believed that the second option must be true, and it gave him hope that if they could get

He would show me that he was not someone to be trifled with. I had pushed the limits, and he was not amused. He beckoned his buddies to join him for a drink, but they just sat there, unmoving. The odd silence was almost comical, and Lawrence could not help but chuckle. "What's with you guys? Why the long faces? Come on, drink up! Yoana's just playing games. It's no big deal." He had not hidden his phone call from them, assuming they were concerned for him. "Just wait. In an hour tops, Yoana will see I'm not playing her game, and she'll come crawling back."