The Silent Waters Novels & Stories

Stefan mumbled, Looking at the river, I noticed something odd, the water wasn't clear, it had a dark shade of grey, and it didn't have a flowing sound like it did before, it was quiet, way too quiet, “What is wrong with the river, I've never seen— or heard a river tide in silence,” “What you heard before was water, but the further we walk, is more it gets corrupted with doom souls,” Stefan whispered. “A river that streams with souls, what would happen if I dipped my hands in?” I jeered.

"So that's that." The water sat there, still and black and waiting. Somewhere behind them, not close but getting less-not-close with each passing minute, the Sisters were moving through the dark with their particular brand of patience. Elena could feel the whispering building again at the edges of her awareness, not words yet, just pressure. The sense of something large doing arithmetic and liking the results. She looked at the water. She looked at Silas. Silas was looking at the water too. And then — slowly, with the particular deliberateness of someone who has to think hard about voluntary movement — he raised one arm and pointed.

But when Lillia finally spoke, her voice was strong. “When fear spreads without a face, seek not the scream, but the silence that follows it.” Good, Fenris murmured under her breath. But now, we are done seeking. Now is the time to lay our bait in the quiet place, and watch the silence lead us to it. “Lay our bait in the quiet, and watch silence lead… Mm.” Lillia hummed. “I know just what to do.” The water cooled gradually, and with it, the tightening in her chest loosened. When she finally rose, wrapped in warmth and exhaustion, she felt… emptied.

“This whole plan hinges on keeping their attention on you and off of us.” “We will do our part, vampire,” Gideon said. “Be sure you do yours.” Then there was nothing to do but to begin our journey. Ronan led me through the woods, and obscured our trail behind us. The path to the river was easy to follow. We had a bit of a challenge crossing the river, since the raft we’d used to escape was far downstream. Luckily, we could both swim. “We move silent from here on,” Ronan whispered. “Only speak when you absolutely must.”

she whispered. He came out of the mist at a run, runes burning across his arm, eyes wide and fixed on her. Behind him Mara, Lyra and Caleb stumbled into the clearing, their faces a mixture of awe and fear at the silver lake and the mist-wolves ringed around it. The wolves didn’t move, only watched, their pale eyes following the newcomers. Silas skidded to a halt at the edge of the glowing water. For a heartbeat neither of them spoke. He looked thinner than she remembered, shadows under his eyes, but the determination in his face was the same.

Nissa froze. She instinctively moved to pick up the pieces, but before she could reach them, Benjamin grabbed her by the collar and slammed her against the wall. Her petite frame was completely overpowered, like a sparrow caught in the jaws of a wolf. She had no strength to resist. Tears welled in her eyes as she whimpered, pleading silently, her lips mouthing desperate sounds. But Benjamin showed no mercy. He leaned in close, his voice low and full of menace, whispering against her ear, "Want to know for yourself what it feels like to be scalded with hot water?"

Let the music fill me like liquid peace. The trees lining the highway blurred past like ghosts. Branches arched over the road in twisted shapes, leaves shimmering silver beneath the headlights. Somewhere far off, thunder grumbled low like an angry god just waking up. We drove over a bridge, and beneath us the water glistened. Black and bottomless. Like secrets you weren’t supposed to find. I closed my eyes and smiled. I didn’t need anyone to talk to. Not right now.

Lyra was drowning. Not in water, but in darkness - vast, endless, pressing in from all sides. It clung to her like thick fog, swallowing every breath, every sound, every thought. The silence was oppressive, stretching infinitely, until the first whisper curled through the void. Soft at first. Then another. And another. The whispers layered upon each other, some frantic, others coaxing, all slipping between her fingers like water whenever she tried to grasp their meaning. A language lost to time, a song of secrets too old to understand.