Unheard Cries Novels & Stories

The baby can’t do anything. The toddler doesn’t understand what’s happening. The vision keeps replaying behind my eyes while I run. White tile. Water still running. The woman's body crumpled beside the tub. The toddler sitting outside the bathroom door. The baby crying in the bedroom. That cry is the part I can't escape. Not the loud cry babies make when they're angry. Not the short cry that stops the moment someone picks them up. This one was different. Thin. Desperate. The sound of a tiny body asking for something it can't live without.

Her hands rested flat on the surface, white-knuckled, as if she were bracing herself against the world itself. Her lips moved soundlessly, whispering some prayer that would never be answered. The screams outside had been growing for hours—screams that didn’t belong to students, or even to the living. Banshees wailed along the halls, their cries so sharp they rattled the glass of lanterns until they cracked. The guttural roar of something massive—ogre, troll, or worse—rolled beneath it, punctuated by the frantic shriek of young voices cut short.

The world fading into a cold dreaded darkness. ROWAN'S POV I hear sounds of screaming, pleading and crying, the sounds of pain and fear.

Without a word to him, I crawl myself under the duvet and close my eyes, feeling the need to sleep. The loud keening of a banshee wakes me up from my obscure dream in the middle of the night. Surprisingly, when I look around, my mate is still very asleep, undisturbed telling me either I am the only one who heard it or he's heavily asleep to hear that. But whatever it is, when the cry comes again, I release myself from his grips and tangles. The cry of a banshee around is strange and there's only a reason that can happen. That can indicate only one thing _ Death? When the cry comes for the third time and louder, I don't hesitate before slipping into the footwear and escaping through the windo

They feel stiff and gritty, like sand is trapped under my eyelids. I’ve silently cried everything out. There’s nothing left. I’ve prayed too. Mindless, desperate prayers whispered into the darkness. To whoever might be listening. For Damion and the boys to find us in time. And to protect my little blob and all of us until they do. They took my father earlier. Dragged him out. The door slammed. And then the screaming started. It comes in waves. Raw. Burning. Animal. The sound cuts through the suffocating darkness every now and then, ripping straight through my spine. Each scream feels like it scrapes something inside me.

“Cris… why didn’t you tell me earlier?” Because he hadn’t known. Because he hadn’t wanted to believe. Because she had been the one person whose heart he didn’t want to break. But lies don’t survive long between people who’ve lived their whole lives together. Cris opens his mouth— A scream erupts from outside. Everyone jolts. A scout at the door draws his sword. Another shouts, “Movement! North side!” Then comes a sound that freezes blood: A low, scraping growl. Too deep.

The silence split my ears. A moment later, a scream tore through me, so sharp my knees buckled. It wasn’t human. It wasn’t a child. It was something else. Something that had never been born—only summoned. The cradle erupted in flame. Not fire that crackled or gave light, but silent, black fire that consumed the wood. I lunged forward, pressing my hands to the cradle, but the flames did not burn me. I looked inside. Empty. And yet the crying remained. Not in front of me—behind. Right at my ear.

The unfairness of it all gnawed at my soul, leaving me feeling hollow and broken. “Someone, please help me,” I whispered urgently, not realising that my voice had returned. I rushed toward the door, pounding on it as I screamed at the top of my lungs, desperately hoping someone would hear me. But, to my dismay, no one did. I couldn't help but wonder why these people seemed so unresponsive. Did other people’s cries sound melodic to them? I grumbled in frustration. “I really hope you're not ignoring me, you strange individuals. If you are, I swear I’ll kill every one of you!” I shouted, dispirited as I slumped down, tears welling up in my eyes and blurring my vision.