What's That Noise Book Novels & Stories

Eddy joked a playful grin on his face. I closed my eyes exhaling slowly knowing full well that the castle would be waiting. -Valerie’s Pov- If waking up with ringing ears and the room spinning wasn't confusing enough. The scent made me want to bury my head in the sand. The smell of death and pine needles made me instantaneously realize that this wasn't my room. Or even my pack.

I bite my lip as my gaze lands on the doodle someone left in the margin. I shouldn’t be thinking about him here. Not when I’m behind on readings, not when my grades are tanking. I should be catching up and fixing things. That’s until I hear— POP!!. A sound, sharp and sudden like something backfiring or a gunshot and the entire library jolts. Books hit the ground. Chairs squeak. Someone shouts behind me. There’s half-second of eerie silence, before the chaos bursts open gasps, footsteps thudding, people whispering.

If only she weren't— A rattle interrupted my endless train of thoughts. Wasn't I alone in here? Or maybe it was a rat or a cockroach. I decided not to pay attention to it. I was about to bring out my book when I heard the noise again. "Fucking pissing rodents..." I growled tossing my book aside. I got up from where I sat and headed toward the source of the noise. I just needed to chase the rat away so I could study in peace. I hated distractions.

It's been days since I'd been searching for a particular book that held on to the answers I sought. "Green tattered covered…" I muttered, running my hands through the books. Sunset was casting a faint glow through the jarred windows of the library. My eyes finally caught it, I pulled it out and settled down to read… I heard a clattering sound at the back of the shelf, towards the underground section of the library. At first, I ignored it. This was my victory and I was going to relish in it. The clattering sound more, this time louder than the first. "Fuck!" I cursed almost loudly, the library was empty and I had to bribe the librarian to allow me extra time here– with this noise how'd I ever

He quietly speaks so as not to disturb my line of concentration. The further I walk down the line of shelving the older the books become and the deeper the vibration and thrum become. It echoes through me and my skin prickles with goosebumps. Like a siren's silent song, I hear the whispers of ancient words. “Do you hear it?” I ask Crimson. “I hear it,” and I just catch the frown that covers his expression when the beat of the thrum turns to whispers and then becomes clearer. I stop when the voices are the loudest. Reaching up I pluck a book from the shelf. But the book is plain and when I open the pages, they are blank. The voices still whisper words I don’t understand.

My sanity was a mess making an effort to decipher the product of the noise, but I compelled myself to calmly flip a page. Dimitri knew I couldn't read Italian, however, he had zero to say about the foolish, treasonable book in my hands. The room stayed silent except for the incessant noise that frayed the peripheries of my nerves. *Chink. click* I thought up this was more ominous than Chinese water torment. I unexpectedly learned he would proceed with whatever game this was for hours and that I would perish in one. I gave in, flicked my gaze to him, and asked, "Do you need something?"

~15 years ago~ A little guy at the age of 5 was busy reading a book under an old tree but still stood tall and look Almighty. His low grade cheap glasses make a silent noise whenever he turned his head to look at the next page. He reads very quietly that if one make a slightest noise around him, that noise will be transferred through his ears, like the light footstep at the back of the tree he was currently reading his psychological book in and that was heading its ways to him.

Her eyes skimmed over the printed words. The quiet creak of her steps dissolved into a sudden cacophony of muffled sounds. She halted mid-stride, her heart quickening at the sharp contrast. A high-pitched cry, followed by a low, guttural grunt, spilled through the air. Her brows knitted, her lips pressing into a firm line as she tried to focus on the book in her hand. It didn’t help. The noise seemed to draw her in, forcing her legs to move.

Listening. Not silence. Not court. Monitors. Breathing. Ivy. Isla. Hallway. Creak. Alex. Sleepwalking. To bathroom. To water. To back. Safe. Outside. Waves. Not mad. Just there. Gate. Not knock. Not truck. Just wind. Bear. Snore. From hallway. Loud. Not guard snore. Home snore. _Silence. Bedroom. 10:06 PM._ “It’s noise,” I said. “But it’s ours.”

The pages of the ancient book suddenly began flipping: fast, violently and the sound echoed through the room. Page after page, chapter after chapter. The pages moved so quickly I couldn't keep count. The temperature dropped. The chandelier rattled overhead. One of the paintings on the wall vibrated. The curtains began moving despite the complete absence of wind. "What the hell..." I whispered. The book suddenly stopped. Smoke started rising from a single page. Quinton's voice deepened, then deepened again. Soon it no longer sounded like him. It sounded like multiple voices speaking through him.