Storm And Silence Novels & Stories

If I slept, I'd see my parents again. I resisted, fighting the seductive pull of darkness with all my might. I knew it was lying to me, but I couldn't speak. It felt like I was choking. I could only run—run... Just as the suffocating sensation threatened to consume me, a beam of light tore through the darkness like a sword. I, too, overcame the heaviness in my chest. For the first time, I heard my own voice, clear and true. "Harvey... help me."

His words struck deep within me, a declaration that felt like both salvation and damnation. For a moment, the silence between us stretched long and thick. It wasn’t the kind of silence that clung to the air like smoke after a fight. No, this was the kind of silence that always comes before a storm. The kind where you know the winds are shifting, and you can feel the crackling tension in the atmosphere. The kind where everything is about to change.

"I'm sorry, Grace. The forest really isn't safe. I have to find him. I promise I'll come back and finish this with you." I gave him a faint smile, though I could barely breathe through the pain in my chest. He would not come back once he left. That was always how it ended. As he bent down to comfort Laila, I quietly poured the bond-breaking potion into the wine glass. I walked over and held it out to him, my voice soft but firm. "Finish this, and I'll forgive you." Philip smiled and finished it in one gulp. He put the glass down and left with Laila without a second glance.

The wind rose without a warning, sharp and frenzied. Grandpa stiffened as he pulled me closer against his chest. “Hold tight. We are with you.” The air crackled as Grandma moved swiftly behind me, placing both her hands on my back. She spoke worriedly. “You broke the bond. So, this is heaven's retribution, Child.” My heart pounded wildly as the sky split open. A deafening thunderclap roared across the Silver Forest, so violent that it shook the ground below us. The clouds over us churned unnaturally fast. I squeezed my eyes shut in fear, and then a blinding, searing, and merciless pain struck me, followed by another earsplitting thunderbolt exploding overhead.

Only static answers. Then silence. Long. Heavy. Absolute. Something shifts inside me — slow, final, like a lock turning. The storm outside grows louder, but for once, it sounds like it’s coming from inside the villa. Inside the man I’m becoming. And I whisper into the dark: “Let them all come. I’ll bury every one.”

She didn’t know then that some silences weren’t empty. They were waiting. Waiting for the moment they could break everything open.

"In it. Alone." She looked at him. At the water on his face. At the way his shirt stuck to his shoulders. At his eyes, watching her with that intensity she'd come to recognize. "We're not alone," she said quietly. "No." He met her eyes. "We're not." The rain hammered the ground. Thunder rumbled again, closer this time. The world narrowed to this doorway, this moment, these two people. Neither spoke. The silence wasn't empty. It was full. Full of everything they hadn't said. Full of all the moments that had led here.

" Shane closed his eyes in pain. His head hung low, and his voice was hoarse. "I know it's all my fault. "I just hope I can stay by your side. "I don't mind being treated like a stranger. I'll just watch over you two in silence." I said nothing. After turning around, I walked to the window and watched the sky gradually turn dark. "Leave, and don't come back." Shane stood frozen there for a long moment. Only when I repeated my dismissal did he stagger away. His silhouette with the scenery of sunset behind him looked lonely and desolate.

Not hers. Strangers. Countless. Births. Goodbye. Wars. Love confessions. Everything. Then suddenly: Nothing. Absolute void. Mara glowed and ripped the view away. “What was that?” Jonas replied deadly. ‘Forget’. Silence. “Not memory.” His voice trembled. “The opposite.” The boy closed his eyes. “We called it silence.” The name seemed to darken the air itself. The city besieged. Lyra whispered: “Don’t speak his name.”