Unspeakable Novels & Stories

The crackling of the music muted, overshadowed by the weight of the unknown. My deep voice resonated through the quietness, enveloping every inch of the camp with a mixture of shock and disbelief. Those words were like shards of ice, piercing deeply into the hearts of those gathered. "I am dying," I announced, my voice faltering slightly. A collective gasp escaped the crowd, echoing through the trees as they stood frozen, processing the magnitude of this revelation.

And it’s growing. I saw it with the God of the Squeaky Floorboard. The little pest was whining about its tribute, a pathetic shimmer of power. The Unspoken just… looked at it. And I felt it, a tiny, psychic transaction. The Floorboard god went still, then puffed up, its squeak gaining a new, confident authority. In return, the Unspoken grew denser, more real. It had traded for a secret. The Floorboard’s hidden shame of being so insignificant. It’s a broker. A silent banker dealing in the currency of things unsaid.

I hate that sinister laugh. I gasped and there was a pause as I pressed my hand tighter on my lips. If he heard me I was dead. My heart pounded as his footsteps sounded like they were coming to me. I was ready to run before another gunshot erupted somewhere making me shut my eyes as fresh tears flowed. “Dammit, I told them not to kill her,” the voice spoke rushing. “No,” Adam coughed.

Until a sudden thunderous shout cut through her whirling senses, shattering the dreamlike trance. "Blast you, son of a bitch!!!"

“That’s impossible,” I said. Isaac was with me last night. Wasn’t he? “It’s not impossible, this is what he does! He was bleeding internally; they kept him in surgery for hours while you ignored my calls! This is the monster, the scum you’ve decided to spread your fucking legs for!” he yelled. “Aww, what’s the matter, Bryan? Mad she wouldn’t spread them for you?” Blakely asked as she stood next to me. He stared at her in silence.

I faced the heavens above us before talking. “What is your biggest fear?” I asked him. “I usually thought that losing someone is the scariest thing ever, but I've come to realize that losing your self is the thing that is scarier.” he answered, he made a point. Losing yourself is the scariest thing on this planet, wherein you wouldn't recognize who and what you truly were. “My turn, have you ever been inlove?” he asked before turning to look at me, I looked back and smiled. “I did, once.” I answered him.

The "Universal Audit" signal was not a suggestion; it was a "Total System-Command." As Ethan Hawke stood in the "Shattered" remains of the penthouse, the "Acoustic Noise" of the city below changed from a panicked hum to a "High-Frequency" scream of sirens and "Mechanical" locks. The "City of Stone" was no longer a "Gilded" home—it had been "Hard-Reset" into a "Total Sector Killing Floor."

ANGEL'S POV: I let out a long, shaky sigh and pressed the heels of my hands against my eyes until little sparks danced behind my lids. Oh, this is so fucked up. What the hell was I even thinking? Couldn’t I have just controlled myself for once? Couldn’t I have pushed him away, told him to stop, do anything other than let him thrust his cock inside my hole in that empty classroom? The desks still smelled like chalk and cheap cleaning spray, and somehow that made it worse.

At the point when the lamp needed refilling for the third time, and Luca had slipped out quietly to find something for people to eat, because Luca always noticed when people needed feeding and did something about it without being asked, Vael said something that stopped the room entirely. "There is one more thing I should tell you," they said, and the specific quality of the pause before it was the quality I had learned to recognise as the pause before the piece the speaker had been least sure how to say. "The Unmaking is not going to accept my defection quietly. It is patient. It is old. It has seen people change sides before, and it has a specific response to it, not violence, not retaliati

Raw. Ugly. Undeniable. I was fucked. Completely, irreversibly fucked. Because whatever this was—it wasn’t going away. And I had no idea how to stop it.