This Thing A Quiet Madness Made Novels & Stories

“Anything on the wire?” McCall shook his head slow, voice rough. “Nada. Too damn quiet.” Hammer exhaled, breath fogging faint, coffee cooling fast in his hand. Quiet wasn’t peace—it was the calm before the crash. He’d felt it before—too many times—and it always ended bloody. The room hummed low—radios crackling, boots scuffing, a rifle clanking as someone loaded up. ***** ****** ****** ******* **** *** Miles off, in a forgotten corner of the city, Catalina leaned back in a leather chair, the warehouse around her a cave of shadows and noise.

She's just quiet. Ah right... My presence might be uncomfortable for her so I should go. ~*~ While walking back, I heard faint steps behind me. Looking sideways, I can see her shadow. She's still quiet. Silence, And somehow, I can't bring myself to broke it. And this defeaning silence... .......one thing keeps pounding on my mind. Am I crazy? Or Am I sick? It's so loud that I want to take it out and make ot stop beating.

By Maria he was simply carrying the thing in its full weight without the story to make it lighter. He talked about the fury. He did not dress it up. He said it had been quiet. That was the specific quality of it that had made it dangerous. Not the loud fury that arrived and spent itself and left. The quiet kind that sat underneath everything and accumulated slowly and had nowhere to go because the person it was directed at was also the person he loved most and you could not direct fury at the person you loved most without it going somewhere else. It had gone into the smile. He said this.

In the silence, he goes out from here, in the same silence as he came here. Please let me know your feedback. I am eagerly waiting for it. And do follow and like me. Thank you ☺

He held it up for a moment, examining it in the light before casually flicking it onto the concrete floor, where it landed with a tiny, insignificant tink. "One," Zandrei counted softly, his eyes glinting with a mad, ecstatic light. "Now, let's try again. Who sent you?" He asked, his voice brimming with a childlike excitement, like a madman who had just discovered a wonderfully fun new game and was eager for another turn. The man in the chair could only manage a strangled, guttural sound, a wet sobbing noise that vibrated through his shattered mouth. His head thrashed from side to side, his eyes wide with a horror so pure it was almost beautiful to Zandrei.

Quiet doesn’t announce itself. It settles. After the brightness, after the evaluation, after the constant calibration between what’s visible and what’s real, quiet feels almost radical. Like choosing to lower your voice in a world addicted to volume. I don’t withdraw from the world—but I stop racing it. Mornings slow first. Not lazily, but deliberately. I stop reaching for my phone before my thoughts. I give my mind time to catch up with my body. Coffee becomes a ritual again, not a prop between obligations.

The darkness crept in slowly. "Mom…" My voice came out so quiet I could barely hear it myself. My mother turned her head and looked at me. Her lips moved like she wanted to say something. Iris screamed again, louder this time, mother and father quickly gathered her up and rushed to the treatment room. No one looked back at me again. My vision went blurry. My mind drifted to something that happened before. That day I ran home with the first weapon I had ever finished on my own. It was a small knife. The edge was straight enough. My mentor said I had a gift.

No hum of that thick brogue she'd imagined carlier But no traffic either. She strained her ears, listening mightily. Had she ever heard such silence? Adrienne drew a ragged breath and willed her heart to slow. She tossed on the lumpy tick. Was this how insanity occurred? Started with a vague inkling of unease, a dread-ful sense of being watched, then escalated rapidly into full blown madness, only to culminate in a nightmare where a smelly, hairy beast announced her impending nuptials?

I only had a spoonful of mushroom soup for dinner, and hunger made my brain foggy and my intentions dangerous. The hallway was long and quiet, the kind of quiet that always means something’s about to go wrong in a house full of spoiled men with questionable morals. The kind of quiet that makes doors look tempting and shadows downright frightening. I moved like a saint with a dirty secret, one palm brushing the paneled wall like it might whisper the right direction.

It makes me go blind Cut me deep, the secrets and lies Storm in the quiet Ooh, ooh, ooh Ooh, ooh, ooh Feel the fury closing in All resistance wearing thin Nowhere to run from all of this havoc Nowhere to hide From all of this madness, madness, madness Madness, madness, madness Ooh, ooh, ooh Ooh, ooh, ooh Ooh, ooh, ooh Ooh, ooh, ooh Feel the fury closing in All resistance wearing thin Nowhere to run from all of this havoc Nowhere to hide From all of this madness, madness, madness Madness, madness, madness Ooh, ooh, ooh Ooh, ooh, ooh Ooh, ooh, ooh Ooh, ooh, ooh Nowhere to run (Ooh, ooh, ooh) There's nowhere to hide This is madness, madness, madness Madness, madness, madness