The Bell Chime Novels & Stories

It was the right place to rest. The bone-and-reed chimes started at 3:47 AM. Not all of them. One cluster, at the marsh's eastern perimeter, then two more in quick succession. The sound was thin and high and easily mistaken for wind if you didn't know what it meant. Veda knew what it meant. She was moving before the third chime finished, toward the nearest Silt-Walker on watch, who relayed in the hand-code of people who'd been communicating without words in a quiet marsh for decades.

Matteo gets to come and go as he pleases, while we have to ask for permission. Two, breakfast is always at the same time. Seven. If you miss it, you wait until lunch. It takes me a few days to figure that out. Three, there is a fucking church bell and it is loud. Why, you may ask? To call us like dumb cows. When food is ready, the bell rings. When the staff needs to assemble, it rings. And my favourite part, there are small bells in every room so you can be summoned like a dog. Why call my name when you can reduce me to a grovelling animal? In case it is not obvious, I hate it.

The school bell unexpectedly went off, reverberating throughout the school and beyond the school walls. Whenever we are been summoned to be addressed on something important during school hours which happens once or twice in a week, the bell regulators will derive esctasy in flexing their muscles, leaving it gleaming with sweat under the sun as they go on ringing the big metal bell for "hours" exceeding "instinctual duration" for that ( sometimes...you just have go technical with terms...ermm...even if it's invented). Sometimes, it takes the principal or a teacher whose ears has been set on edge to call them off from the "esctastic activity".

Seems Kate needs to do something immediately. She picked up that thing; it was a tiny crystal clear bell with a silver lotus pattern and a purple tassel hang on it. When Zitrey rang the bell, it gave off a soothing and calming sound. But to our protagonist, it affects nothing. She clutched the said bell and said, "Whoever you are, I'll catch you sooner or later." ______ A scattered vermilion and dusky purple littered with the tiny brightest silver stars could be seen in the sky. Crows gather together and cawed. Lights in the streets and houses started to illuminate and each daylight animal hurriedly going to their own home.

Their lips brushed, lingering, lazy and sweet—until the moment turned into deeper breaths, shared warmth, and the kind of soft laughter that only existed between two people who were too wrapped up in each other to notice anything else. Downstairs, Salima was stirring a pot on the stove, humming under her breath. The house was quiet, peaceful—until the doorbell exploded into frantic, urgent rings. Ding-ding-ding-ding—DING—DING—DING— Salima froze. The bell kept hammering, as if someone were leaning on it with their whole body. “Good Lord…” she muttered, wiping her hands on a towel before hurrying toward the front door. “Who is hammering that bell like they’re possessed?”

When the fire was dying down the old man spoke again. “We used to have a bell in the tower”. It sounded when season changed. When children were born. When the level of the river rose. It has not been rung for twenty years by anyone. Lucian looked at him. “Would you like us to call it again?”. The man’s eyes welled. “Yes. Let it be heard.” --- At daybreak, they were up the bell tower. The rope was worn but was strong. The bell on the top was dusty and remained waiting. Lucian put her hand to its side and traces of light broke out in soft circles, as if the metal remembered its voice.

CLANG. The sound of a massive gong rang out. It came from the clocktower, a large structure stationed in a courtyard near the center of the Estate, which I had never been to. This bell only rang twice within a day: once at lunchtime, and once half an hour before dinner, to signal it was time for all residents to rest and retire.

I whispered, and the pieces finally started falling into place in the worst way possible, "he was a puppet playing with chemistry sets while the real architects watched from the wings, and they didn't want the formula to fix the packs, they wanted it to see if we were worthy of the inheritance." Suddenly, the silence of the woods was broken, but it wasn't by a howl or a motor, but by the single, clear chime of a bell that echoed through the valley. It was coming from the direction of the old monastery ruins on the northern peak, and the sound was so mournful it made my hair stand on end. "The Bell of Atonement," I said, my jaw tightening as I looked out at the mountain, "it hasn't been rung

I used to cherish every small gift from her, even a hairband or a mug. Yet now, none of it held any value for me. I gathered all those tokens, along with my feelings for her, and tossed them away. When I returned from disposing of the items, the house was glowing with light. A sweet five-year-old was joyfully calling out "grandma," and Larisse was beaming with laughter, her eyes sparkling as she showered the child with gifts, one after another. That was Jeffrey's son, Sean Carter. He was the reason for a big fuss at a wedding, and then, they were all having a great time together.

A boy hands me a small bell and says: — Father, would you like to try it? I shake my head, smiling, but at the same moment, the great bell in the bell tower bursts out. Its rumble rolls over the hills, shakes the windows, stops conversations. The day is proclaimed. The hour approaches. I take a deep breath. I smell the wax, the cold stone, the warm bread. Everything is simple, everything is immense. --- THE VOICES In the streets, the village awakens as one body.