Wailing Cry Novels & Stories

Deep, alive, drowning. I’d miss looking at those eyes. I couldn’t help the cry that left my throat. It was a guttural, soul-wrenching wail—raw and unrestrained—as if the grief itself clawed its way out of my chest. It wasn't just a sound of sorrow; it was the kind of cry that tore through silence like a storm, born from the unbearable weight of watching the man I loved fade away. It held all the shattered dreams, the aching what-ifs, and the terrifying reality of facing a future without him.

Li-lah's cries intensified, her tears flowing freely as the weight of the loss pressed down upon her, threatening to crush her spirit. She crumbled to the ground, her entire body quaking with grief. The sheer magnitude of her sorrow sent shockwaves through her being, leaving her feeling raw and vulnerable. Words failed to adequately convey her pain as she sobbed uncontrollably, the sound escaping her in ragged gasps.

She cried and cried and cried. |||||______|||||______|||||______

I gave that up. I close my eyes, desperate not to let the tears filling them escape. I fail. They slip out, trail down my cheeks, fall from my face. I hold in the sob for as long as I can, lips quivering, chesttrembling, hands balled into fists. But I lose that battle too. The cry wretches itself up my throat, over my tongue, past my lips. At the last moment, I turn it into a scream. "Ah!!"

I roared,the sound reverberating off the walls. Tears of frustration and dread stung my eyes as I continued to call out for her, each cry more desperate than the last. The room felt like it was closing in around me, the walls closing in on my racing mind, my pounding heart. My nails kept digging into my palms, sharp pain momentarily distracting me from the all-consuming terror. And then wave of anguish threatened to drown me. A guttural, inhuman howl escaped my lips, a primal sound of grief and rage that riped from the depths of my being.

My mother-in-law, Paige Rivers, pulled her into a protective embrace and shot me a dirty look. "Everyone at this funeral will be somebody important! What's the harm in crying a little? "What if some rich man notices how sweet and tender-hearted she is and sweeps her off her feet?" With backup on her side, Mia stopped hiding her intentions. She turned to the mirror and touched up her eyeshadow. "I've spent a whole month perfecting this look. When I cry today, I'll look absolutely heartbreaking! "Celine's just jealous because I'm young and pretty. She's afraid I'll outshine her in front of the nobles!"

It was as if time had momentarily stood still, the intensity of her frightened expression etching itself into the fabric of my memory, as though challenging me to fully comprehend the depths of her distress. “Rara, please! Please, save me!” The sound of her desperation was reverberating through the room, as she unleashed her anguish in the form of exasperated wails that pierced the silence. Each cry seemed to carry with it an incredible amount of pain, echoing the depth of her emotions and the turmoil that consumed her very being. Tears streamed down her face, leaving wet trails that glistened in the dim light, evidence of her suffering and sorrow along with mine. Her cries grew louder and m

The voices of the forgotten, no longer whispers beneath the ground, no longer echoes through the hollow, but howls that shook the forest above. The wolves clutched at their ears, some dropping to their knees, others trembling as if their own throats might release the same cry without command. Raelin staggered backward, her face pale, her voice no longer steady but torn with disbelief. “No, it cannot be, they are dead, they cannot answer, they cannot call us.”

The tears welled up and spilled over, tracing lines down her cheeks, failing her usual regal poise. Unable to contain the storm of emotions swirling inside her, Ilyana let out a cry of anguish. Her voice echoed through the empty room. The sound was guttural, raw, and unrestrained—a powerful release of the pain and betrayal she felt. She sank to her knees, clutching the letter to her chest as if it could somehow bring her daughter back.

It was like reliving the same nightmare over and over again. My tears turned into wails as the reality of what I was facing hit home. I was broke, with no prospects, no friends, and no one to turn to for help. The wails sounded even to my ears like the mourning of a wounded animal. They reeked of loss and despair with just a hint of madness. Even my thoughts didn’t sound like my own, the words in my head like someone else’s. And that wailing kept getting louder and louder.