Sounds Of Blackness Keep Your Head To The Sky Novels & Stories

The ringing in my ears was so loud it drowned out the crackle of the iron chandeliers overhead. The word hung suspended in the frozen air of the North Gallery, heavy enough to crack stone: Brother. The alpha’s massive frame stopped dead just a few feet away from the cloaked intruder. For a terrifying second, neither of them moved. The alpha’s chest heaved beneath his tailored black jacket, his ash-gray eyes completely swallowed by a ring of blazing, violent gold. The air in the grand hall grew so thick and suffocating that several junior servants near the back dropped to their knees, gasping for breath under the sheer weight of the dominant aura crashing against the walls.

The rest were a draw. “If you're thinking of something or someone, block it off while on training. You know the drill.” The Alpha’s order came with a growl. Skylar in his wolf form stood up instantly and shook his head, whisking dirt off his fur. He had left his link open for the pack which allowed him to connect with everyone if he had to. What was I waiting to hear?

I shook my head once and stomped on his burnt hand. He shrieked in so much pain. The kind of shriek that sounded so good in my ears. Like a melody I want to hear again and again. "Hell, that is so good to hear. Keep on doing that," I said and I didn't care if I sounded evil myself. To avenge my loss and give justice to the innocents, I don't mind if I become evil.

, plugged in headphones to listen. Don't leave me alone. Don't leave me alone. It's so cold, it's so cold Why did you leave me alone? Don't leave me alone. Don't leave me alone. Windy afternoon Windy afternoon Why did you leave me? Some words some words The sound of love or prayer Some music some music Music to call people or music to call souls Don't be silent don't be silent With the sound of hammers nails. Don't give off scent. Don't give off scent

Diego followed the purple mist which led her to a room with no door, the singing had now grown stronger. When Diego walked in the room, the lights that lit the passageway had completely died out. The room was dark except for the purple mist that poured out from the Black Spirit. “Why have you come?” the Spirit demanded in a mocking tone. Diego replied calmly “Your singing…is distracting me from thinking.” The Spirit chuckled, “Thinking?” Diego took a few more steps. She found the Black Spirit on the wet floor sitting with its head facing down. Diego couldn’t see her clearly because of the darkness, but she knew who that was...

Afternoon was drawing closer and he was yet to return home. Stopping at the head of the dead man, Ibekwe stared at the back of the man where his spinal cord glistened under the heat of the sun. The machete was gone. He felt a tap on his shoulders and he turned. He heard a soft sound in his mind. It was the sound of the village drum and a heavily built man was beating it. The harmonic sound flowed smoothly in his head, producing strong rhythmical tone as it passed through his body, touching all sensitive parts. Everything he saw or felt blackened. He started dreaming of a lonely path with a lot of colours in it. He passed out.

She is the daughter of my enemy and she will forever remain that way. I pulled my hands away from her and that made me hit the floor. My eyes became close as I tried to regain balance, no one helped me up from the ground, they left me there. Where I laid was sacred and not everyone can come there. I opened my eyes and looked around, princess Lyra was also on the floor, she must have felt that force as well. The sky began to get dark even though it was still morning. The sun began to fade away. " This is a sign that our sacrifice was accepted and peace shall return to us" the council leader said.

The sound did not begin as a wolf’s cry. It began as a low-frequency vibration that rattled the silver-glass bones of the Architectural Holdings tower. It was a subsonic thrumming that bypassed the ears and landed directly in the solar plexus, a rhythmic demand for an ancient, suppressed biology to wake up. Silas Blackwood stood at the edge of the shattered boardroom window, his hand still white-knuckled around the red needle Kaelen had provided. Below him, the city of Sector 0 was a grid of blinking neon and moving metal, but the rhythm of the traffic had changed. It was no longer a flow; it was a heartbeat.

She whispered the words, a vow, a prayer, a declaration of war, into the roaring, mechanical, blackness of the sky. "I'm ready."

Far above, the sky was already beginning to dim at the edges, like a lid lowering over an eye that didn’t sleep. On the threshold, Kaelira paused and spoke not to Zevran or Taren but to the world itself. “When the Black Moon rises,” she said, “let it watch.” And then, without looking back, she added the only promise that felt like truth: “We’re coming for you.” The arch shivered. The Court’s gates loomed. Somewhere ahead, a war-scar smiled. The bond thrummed once—thin, fierce, alive. And the three of them walked into winter.