The Darkness Novel Cover

The Darkness

9.6 / 10.0
In The Darkness, a soul wanders aimlessly through a pervading void. This mystery story follows a desperate escape where the chosen path acts as both murderer and salvation. Discover this chilling horror novel and read books online free as one lost soul faces a transformative destiny.
The Darkness Summary
In a world where light is a luxury, an ancient shadow begins to consume the last remaining sanctuaries of humanity. Elias, a cynical relic hunter, discovers a cursed artifact that whispers secrets of the void. As the boundary between reality and nightmare dissolves, he must navigate a landscape of shifting horrors to stop an eternal eclipse. With time running out, Elias faces a terrifying truth: the darkness isn't coming from outside, but from within.
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The Darkness Chapter 1

"Elif, the bell rang! Your father must have come, dear; open the door." I realized that I was falling asleep with my mother's voice coming from the kitchen. After blinking my eyes a few times, I stood up. I ran to the door when there was a knock on the door again. I pressed the automatic and opened the door and waited for my father on one foot. He appeared at the door with his usual cheerfulness and smiling face. I loved that he came in such a dynamic way despite his tiredness. “Welcome, Dad!” I said cheerfully.

Kissing my hair, he said in a lively voice just like me, "I found it nice, Daddy!" As he took off his shoes and walked in, I bent down and took his black shoes and put them in the shoe rack. While my mother was wiping her hand on the kitchen towel, she said, "Welcome, sir," with the pleasant smile that appears on her face every time she sees my father. Their loving attitude was the most beautiful thing in our family. In a family, the love of parents for each other was very important. The loveless house was a restless breath. When I looked at them, happiness covered my whole place, and I was filled with an indescribable joy.

"It's nice, ma'am. What's for dinner today?" The gleam of love from my father's eyes landed directly on my mother's heart. It was always the love of my mother and father. Even this conversation about food meant a lot to them. When I turned my back to leave the bags in my hand and set the table, everything suddenly started to fog up. "Mommy! Daddy!" I said it, but they didn't hear me. They continued to talk among themselves. I shouted again, but this time my voice did not come out.

"Mom!" I cried out and got out of bed. When I looked around, I realized that it was one of my usual dreams. I wiped the tears running down my cheeks. I was used to staying crying at the end of every dream I had.

I was tired of opening my eyes to yet another lonely morning. Sometimes I wish I didn't get up this morning; I wish I couldn't wake up today. For the last four years, it has been really hard to close and open my eyes with this pain. Sometimes the pain was so heavy that I thought I couldn't stand it. Actually, I didn't want to hold on. Then I was thinking about Ahmet and trying to be patient.

But mostly I was just staying at work. Every time I laid my head on the pillow at night, my tears soaking my pillow revealed how bad I was. And that was awful. Being without a mother and father and taking care of a small child was scarier and more difficult than it was thought. It was scary because you can't wake up an embittered child; you can't even make a smile on your face...

Exactly four years... Four whole years without them. Four whole years when my patience was exhausted and my strength was gone! Sometimes I think, why? What am I living for... A person used to live for his family. There was only Ahmet I could hold on to. The only person left from my family, one life, one breath... I couldn't even be enough for him. I couldn't even get enough of that tiny body.

I was starting to choke on thinking, and the more I thought about it, the more I sank to the bottom. We were orphans and orphans. I was alone with the little boy. When I was a person who could not take care of myself, I had to take responsibility for him. I was never a complainer. But when I saw her silent state, she gave life to my struggles. If he looks at me happy for once. Only once... Then everything would change, I believed.

I took a deep breath, as I do every morning. I had to be strong for him. As I had to live for him... I sat up on the bed. Silence was our friend. Our house, where the sounds were not cut off before, was now a monument of silence. Just remembering that broke my heart. I wiped the tears running down my cheeks and got out of bed. I learned very well in the past years that crying does not help me and that the one who leaves does not come back. It took hours for me to get over the effects of the dreams I still had. But until the effect wore off, tears would insist on running down my cheeks.

When I opened the door of my room, the creaking sound of the door said good morning to me. I rubbed my feet and made my way to the bathroom. When I opened the door, another tear fell from my right eye with the realities of the white bathroom hitting my face. There wasn't a day that I didn't cry in the mornings when I dreamed. The silence of the house was suffocating me more and more with each passing day. There were traces of them in every corner of the house. I immediately wiped my face with the back of my hand. I went to his room to wash my hands and wake up Ahmet. He was lying curled up in his bed. He suffered so much at this young age... His tiny body suffered undeserved pain.

"Ahmet... get up, my sister, you'll be late for school." I gently nudged his tiny shoulder. She didn't like her dark brown hair when she was awake. I gently stroked her hair. Ahmet has always been a quiet boy. He never raised his voice against us. He had a world inside him, and he lived within himself. But when we lost our parents, Ahmet had closed himself completely. He started not talking to anyone, not playing. It was getting harder and harder to reach him with each passing day. I was just watching it slip out of my hands without doing anything. Even when he had problems, he wouldn't tell me; he would cry silently to the side. Even if his friends at school came against him, he did not object. “Ahmet,” I said, grimacing in pain again.

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