Stopped Time Novels & Stories

The tip of the mother-of-pearl pen hit the glass face of the monitor at exactly twenty-three hours fifty-nine minutes and fifty-nine seconds. The impact did not make a shatter. It sounded like a heavy iron door slamming shut underwater, a thud that sent a shockwave running up Elara's arm. The pen did not break. The glowing red command line under the glass did not split either. It just stopped working. The digital clock froze, the number warping into a jagged character that flashed between red and black.

This is my last day on the planet, there is definitely something wrong with my heart. But before I can figure out exactly what ailment I'm going to die of, he reaches across and grabs the seat belt from the side. My eyes follow his hand as he pulls it across, latches the seat belt and then twists the key to start the engine. It doesn't take us more than an hour to reach Ethan's house, or probably, it is even less than that. But the array of contradictions going on inside my head is telling me otherwise, as it is adamant on making me believe that the whole day has passed since we left Mr. Hopkins’ place… that Time has stopped its usual function, and appointed itself on a new job of creating i

Unexpectedly, the unfinished deed Neela had been wanting to do would be this. However... However, all the latter words could not fall from Alex’s lips. Neela said, “My lord, I’m a little embarrassed. Therefore, I’ll impose another domain of Time Stop on you. In that way, you’ll feel nothing. I will be done with it after you open and close your eyes.” Before Alex could object, Neela unleashed Time Stop. “Ah... Ah... I...”

Time to end this one way or another. ***

He stepped forward, his voice loud enough for the entire room to hear. "A masterpiece of precision, you say?" Alistair mocked, gesturing towards the clock. "It seems your 'Continuity of Time' is as fragile as your claim to this city. Look at the clock, Ms. Quinton. It has stopped. A fitting symbol for a legacy built on shadows." The room erupted into a flurry of whispered conversations. The guests leaned in, their eyes fixed on the clock. It did indeed appear to have stopped, its intricate gears motionless behind the glass.

Dean tried to resist the sound of the alarm, but the ringing of the phone made Dean nervous inhibition. He couldn't stand it but his eyes were still closed. His hand groped the phone according to the source of the sound. Until the second bell rang, he found out. Open an eye. Can't believe it. It is now five hours and seven minutes. So the first bell rang, at four-twenty, he just opened his eye and ignored the ringing bell, the bell went off by itself. Looking outside, it was pitch black, around two or three o'clock in the city. In the mountains, near dawn, the temperature drops quite lowly.

Who is it? ( Riley) It's me, Riley. (Amy) Oh, please come in. {Riley enters Amy's room} How are you feeling? ( Amy) Am okay. Thanks for the help. if don't mind but what time is it? (Riley) It's after midnight. (Amy) I see...um...can you stay with me until I fall asleep please, am a bit scared of staying by myself at this moment. ( Riley) Sure whatever you need. A few moments later she fell asleep.

When Angela and Leon arrived at the registry office, it was exactly five thirty. The staff there respected work hours to the minute, not a second off. The instant the second hand pointed to twelve, the mouse clicked with a soft beep and the computer shut down. No matter how loudly Angela shouted “Wait,” it was useless. She could only watch as the screen faded from Windows’ blue skies and green fields into a black shutdown screen. Angela stopped in the lobby and did not move forward again.

Frederico Grey Volkov I stopped looking at the clock. The numbers had become a taunt — 11:47 p.m. turning into 11:52, then 12:03. She wasn’t coming. Or perhaps she was testing me. Either way, the waiting had become unbearable. I stood up, the whiskey glass still in my hand, and walked to the master bathroom.

It was a text from Julian, sounding as arrogant and casual as ever: "The ritual is starting soon. Where are you? Stop hiding and get over here." Once I caught my breath, I typed my final reply: "I have officially rejected you, Julian Thorne. Have fun with your little savior game. May we never cross paths again." The second I hit send, I blocked his number for good. The airport intercom announced the boarding call for my flight to the North. I grabbed my suitcase, looked at the blackened screen of my phone one last time, and hit power-off.