The Forests Of Silence Novels & Stories

Darkness didn't come slow. She fell over the city. From one moment to the next. The golden lanterns are gone. Windows were black. The rain disappeared. Even the whisper of the stories tumulted. There was nothing for a heartbeat. No colors. No sounds. No orientation. Mara felt her stomach collapsed. Not because of the darkness. Because of silence. For she remembered another silence. To the island. At the moment before the awakening of the dreamer. Those seconds in which the world seemed to be lurking.

“ Meara!” The whispers started again, soft but notable. I tensed, my eyes snapping open. I scanned the field, but there was no one in sight. The sound seemed to come from the tree itself, from the rustling of its leaves. I pressed my palms against the rough bark and closed my eyes, focusing on the whispers. " Come... find... me..." The words were faint but distinct. My heart raced. Was I losing my mind, or was there something more to these whispers? I stood up, brushing the dirt off my jeans, and took a few steps back. The whispers grew louder, more insistent.

she whispered. “I don’t either,” Henry replied, voice cracking. They stood facing each other, two broken hearts bound by the same ghost. Outside, the last ray of sunlight faded, leaving the room in twilight. And in that twilight, a new silence settled between them, one heavier, deeper, and more intimate than ever before. The silence between two hearts. Elena suddenly remember how she dead!

Laughter and music drifted down from the second floor, like sounds from another world. I pushed open the estate doors, and a cold wind rushed toward me. The December air in Sicelia carried a hint of sea breeze. I took a deep breath, filling my lungs with sharp, icy freedom. Across from me, five black armored cars were parked in silence. They were like five beasts waiting in the dark. The door of the middle car opened, and Joseph stepped out. He wore a perfectly-tailored black coat. Ten years had passed. He was taller and his features sharper, but his gray-blue eyes were the same.

Chapter 12 The silence did not feel normal. At first, Aria thought it would be easier. No messages. No control. No voice on her phone. Just peace. But it did not feel like peace. It felt empty. Too quiet. Too still. Like something was missing. She sat on her bed, staring at her phone again. Nothing. No new messages since last night. Since— “Now it is just you and me.” Her chest tightened. She dropped the phone on the bed as if it burned her hand. “This is good,” she whispered to herself. “This is what you wanted.”

The following day, I ventured out again, determined to reconnect with Brodie. This time, I pushed past the familiar two-mile marker. When I finally made the connection, it came too easily—almost alarmingly so. I refrained from speaking, choosing instead to simply sit in the silence and listen. But the quiet was unnerving. All I could hear was the relentless whisper of the wind, swirling around me like a ghost in a desolate landscape. It felt eerily still wherever Brodie was. I concentrated harder, pushing deeper into our connection, striving to see the world through his eyes.

In one place, there was thunder and lightning, while in another, the night sky was clear with starlight. With the thunder rumbling and my heart beating far too fast, I collapsed inside my own closet.

Silent. Staring at her with those dead eyes. More seconds passed. The air in the room felt wrong. Too thick. Too cold. Carmina took a step backward without meaning to. Then another. Her back hit the door. "Killian," she whispered. Nothing. The silence was worse than shouting. Worse than violence. It was the silence before something terrible happens. Carmina's heart was hammering in her chest. Her hands shaking so badly she could barely hold her cane. "Say something," she said.

TRIGGER WARNINGS: DEPICTIONS OF VIOLENCE AND BULLYING CONTAINED IN THIS CHAPTER. I open my mouth, but no words come out. An invisible hand pulls where my chest should be. I close my mouth, blink, and try again. “Did we… um—” He doesn’t let me finish. “No, we didn’t do anything,” his smile turns almost bashful. He moves his face closer to mine, like he’s about to say something, and I take a breath, moving back instinctively.

The silver-barked trees stood motionless in the absence of wind. The white moss absorbed sound the way snow did—completely. Nothing moved. Nothing breathed. Nothing made a single sound that should not have been there. Which was the problem. Because the forest should have had ambient sound. Small creatures. Night birds. The subtle settling of branches. The Holy Lands were eerie in their neatness, yes—but they were not *dead.* They should not have been this quiet. Something had silenced them. Something had moved through and frightened every living thing into absolute stillness before Luna arrived.