The Silence Was Deafening Novels & Stories

The pain was overwhelming, the silence deafening. I tried to scream, but all that came out was a choked sob. ***

There is a deafening silence following the conflict. Each short breath feels like a battle, and I can hear my own heartbeat thudding rapidly in my ears. My surroundings have become strangely still. The forest itself seemed to be holding its breath, waiting for something to happen, as there were no further cries or growls.

The silence that followed wasn’t heavy anymore. It was holy!

Silent. Burning.

Too strong to fight. My last coherent thought before the sheer volume of voices causes everything to go completely dark is the sickening realization that the previous silence was never silence at all. It was merely the sound of something vast and ancient patiently waiting for the protection to drop.

The wet sounds of a crash. And then, finally, the silence.

He put it to the highest volume so that he won’t hear any noise aside from his music. Meanwhile, a loud noise can be heard in a nearby house. The breaking sound of the glass that comes off the table rang out in the whole house. There, a guy came out of the house while hanging his empty bag on his shoulder. He has this blank and emotionless face while walking out of the house. He looked at his own Harry Winston wrist watch that was a gift to him by his father.

The s‌ilence was absolu⁠te. It was a different silence than before she had come. That had been the silence o⁠f order, of con‍trol⁠, of a‌ life meti‍culously curated an‍d perfectly‍ empty.⁠ This was the silence of‌ a vacuum, a v‌oid left⁠ i‍n the wa‍ke of a supernova. It was‌ lo‌ud, and it was accusing.

The absolute absence of everything, including the concept of absence. "It is a Silence," the Utterance whispered in Jack's mind, and the ancient consciousness's voice carried a terror that Jack had never heard from it. Not even when facing the Devourer. Not even when meeting the Gravedigger. The silence that exists when a song ends. The pause between notes. It has always been there, between every sound the choir makes. We never noticed it because it was small. But the choir grew too loud. It woke the spaces between the music.

The ride back t⁠o t⁠he esta⁠te⁠ was si⁠lent. Not the pea⁠ceful silence of a lib​rary. The suff‌ocating silence​ of a bomb s‍he⁠lte‌r befor⁠e‍ the imp‍act.‌