Confessions Anonymous Novels & Stories

I ask him and he seems to stutter a moment, thinking of what lie he is going to spin. “My other investors are silent. They trust me to run things. Besides, everyone knows you give the pretty girls drinks to get the big spenders into a club.” “I didn’t know that.” I sip my drink through the itty bitty straw and slide a little bit away from him. He slides closer and his smell wafts over with the movement. An evil combination of cologne, marijuana, and desperation. I stuck the lime wedge in my mouth and sucked to fight the wave of nausea.

I read the alert three times. Each time the words stay the same. "Supernatural conspiracy. Anonymous source. Fertility clinic." The screenshot of Orlan's authorization file, page one, the clinic letterhead visible, the signatures clear enough to read on a phone screen. It's out. Not selectively, not managed, not the version we were going to present tomorrow in a controlled Conclave session with formal testimony and legal structure around it. Out in the open, on a national news platform, framed by an anonymous source whose angle we don't know and can't control.

He kneeled on the ground, clutching her white coat like a beggar. “I’m begging you to give me an address. Just tell me where they’re buried.” The head nurse turned her face away coldly. “I don’t know. This is Dr. Holdsworth’s private matter. Please leave and don’t disturb the other patients.” Two security guards lifted him by the arms and dragged him out. “Please tell me where my wife is buried. Please…” He cried uncontrollably, kneeling outside the hospital as he begged. No one answered him or took pity on him, though.

"Because she thought about the consequences. Maybe she changed her mind?" "True," I whisper. "Enzo, can you zoom in on the phone call since she was on speaker and try to find a number for it? Could you, perhaps, get a software to read her lips for me?" Enzo nods. I wait for a few hours, awake and restless, until he returns. "Boss," he says, shaking his eyes in disbelief. "You ever heard of the group anonymous?" I nod - "They are hackers," I say. "A network of people, together, working under one name, to take down the worst of the worst on the world and the web."

I remembered her words: “The truth doesn’t need your permission to exist.” I used to think she said it out of pride. Now I knew better. Truth doesn’t need permission — only courage. Would she ever forgive me? For doubting her, for choosing silence over her voice? Maybe this was my way of trying. Marcus slid a folder across the desk. “The last connection — the Abram fire tied to the offshore accounts.” “Send it to the investigators directly,” I said. “Anonymous?” “Exactly.” He studied me. “You really don’t care what happens to your name, do you?”

PERFECT COVER It was lunch break, I spotted Flora and Brian were seriously conversing at our spot in the Cafeteria. Tyler had come up with a plan concerning the whole Anonymous message thing.... I was going to ask Brian for help but I was not going to reveal anything, my sexuality or the main issue. I didn't want to lose my friends or get exposed. My perfect Image had to stay unstained. "Hi, guys." Both looked up almost at the same time.

The only way to break the spell was if the confessor dies. The confessors referred to themselves as "sisters" and lived together and of course, they had a leader. Isabelle's sister was their leader. King Caesar - back then, when he was still a prince - had been on a long trip with some guards. When it was nightfall, they found a place to camp, but unknown to them, it was close to the camp of the confessors. While they were asleep, the confessors attacked them and confessed him - Caesar - alongside some of his men. He was confessed by Tabitha - Isabelle's blood sister and the leader of the confessors at that time.

The conference room was packed with doctors from every department, each one poised for the case review. I cleared my throat, started up the prepared PowerPoint, and began. "This case is for Jason Hamilton, male, five years old. He was first diagnosed at age three and has been on dialysis for two years now..." As I spoke, murmurs started among the crowd. I turned to the large screen behind me, realizing something was wrong. To my horror, my patient report was swapped out for a presentation called "Confession of an Affair”.

He was no longer a compass; he was a Library of the Lost. "I can hear them, Meilin," Leo said, looking at her. She was the only one who stayed by his side, her own violet eyes now steady and deep. "I don't hear their voices... I hear their debts. I know who stole what, and I know who was betrayed." "Is that why you can't sleep?" Meilin asked. "I can't sleep because I know where the Anonymous are," Leo said. "They didn't go into hiding. They went into The Echoes. They’re hiding inside the people whose minds are broken. They’re rebuilding their network inside the very people we 'saved'."

beside me. I found this yesterday when I went out to get something ” she said and showed me front of the book which was written on it ” MAGIC AND POWERS ( how to control them ) “. ” I found something about a confessor inside ” she said and dropped the book on the bed. ” What about confessor ?” I asked. ” Well according to the book, they’re ancient order of women sworn to find the truth no matter how people may try to hide it ” she said. ” Does that mean I’m ancient? ” I asked and she burst into laughter. ” Alaina you’re funny ” she said and laughed again. I sighed and looked away from her. ” Apart from the ancient stuff what other things do confessor’s do, like what’s their ability and what