Handmaids Tale Novels & Stories

she went to Wren on her bed as the unpenetrable block of ice was halfway melted on her body. “Thank goodness you are alright.” Beth added while the commander stared at her hands, still confused, what just happened to her? Did she just lost her emotion over a rookie?—she then stared at the now elated handmaids with the princess. “Seriously, speaking who are these handmaids?” After, she glanced at Abbey— Not saying anything about the princess being free from her slumber but stared out of the huge now melting window frame. What is actually going on in here? .

She dropped the ribbon and ground it into the mud with the heel of her boot. “If I see you outside the communal hut again tonight, I’ll have you whipped for trespassing,” she leaned in, her scent of scorched lemon and sulfur filling my lungs. “You’re not a wolf anymore. You’re a ghost. And ghosts should stay in the dark.” One of the handmaidens—Mara, a girl who had called me her best friend since we were six—stepped forward and kicked my bundle, scattering my journals into a puddle. “Go on, Elara,” Mara whispered, her eyes full of a terrified, sycophantic greed. “Go before she gets angry.”

She was also reincarnated when I opened my eyes again, and she immediately made the other choice in this life. However, I was grateful for that. - I still hadn't seen Yoran's face even after three days since he took me home. He appeared to be busy, and had plenty of other female slaves—I was just one of them and wasn't eye-catching at that. But I didn't mope, instead happily munching on the dry bread they always placed on the servants' table. It was wonderful not having my blood sucked every day, after all. Even as the thought crossed my mind, I choked on the bread and almost passed out.

The rain begins to pour down, blurring the sight of both of them. The Elder Miss runs in circles and through conflicting pathways to confuse the maid. With no where left to run, she has no options but to hide in one of the many abandoned and voided settlements. They are all dominated by dust, spider webs, and broken down objects. She settles herself in one of the worn down cabins, hiding behind a large wooden barrel. A distance away, Zi Yan can hear the maid begin yelling and kicking stuff. "Elder Miss.. You are a kind person. If you sacrifice yourself, I can save my family of ten. Help me out, will you?"

For a moment I block everything out to think of a way to make it better for her and the child, how we can achieve justice without sacrificing our own humanity. However, before I can come up with something, Elora turns to me and says, “Let’s go.” “Follow us,” I tell the handmaidens, and together they form a neat line with Madam Mara in front, trailing behind Elora like a group of ducklings. I remain behind them, watching in case one of them tries to do something dirty or if one of the guards suddenly wake up. Thankfully none of these things happen. The handmaidens are all following Elora meekly, their heads bowed and their hands twisted in front of them. The guards also remain knocked out, so

the lead maid said, her tone respectful but unyielding. And just like that, I realized they weren’t here as servants. They were soldiers disguised as handmaids. Tears burned behind my eyes as they stripped away the remnants of the night before piece by piece, until I stood there, trembling, surrounded by strangers. They bathed me like I was porcelain, careful but firm and I bit the inside of my cheek to keep me from crying out. Every touch, every movement, reminded me of where I was and who had sent them. When they were done, they dried me in silence.

And thank you, for proving that no story, no matter how dark, is ever truly alone when it is shared. With endless love and gratitude, [Your Author Name] P.S. They thought Tiffany was gone. They thought Aurora’s war was over. But you and I we know better. The Devil’s Handmaiden’s story has only just begun…

The maid seemed to understand the silent plea in her eyes, and Isabella felt a spark of hope flicker within her. Later that night, as Isabella lay on her hard, damp mattress, she heard a soft tapping at her cell door. She sat up, her heart racing with anticipation. The door creaked open, and the head maid slipped inside, carrying a small plate of warm soup and crackers. Isabella’s eyes widened with surprise and gratitude as she took the plate from the maid's hands. She felt tears prick at the corners of her eyes as she took her first sip of the warm soup. It was the first proper meal she had had in what felt like weeks.

It seemed like there's more to being excited because a mission has been accomplished. "Bella" Aunty Flora came closer to me, she held my both hand and resumed; "You've gone through a lot, you worked as a maid!" "Oh that, that's fine. That family is so nice and accommodating" I told her. "No, it's not fine. It's all my fault that you struggled to earn a living. But now, I'm here to help you and fix things!" She said. "Yeah I knew it! You'll never abandon us!" I hugged her once again.

That makes me wonder if she was bringing the malls inside the room until they stopped, leaving the entire floor packed with paper bags. I shifted my bewildered gaze to Megan, thinking she was done, but she snapped her finger again before I could utter a single word, and a brunette-haired girl in a uniform dress of black and white apron on top with no more than a year older than me came into the limelight. “And I want to introduce your personal handmaid, Hana.” Megan motioned the maid girl to come forward. “She will be the one attending to all your needs.” My own handmaid? Hah, Damon really thinks that getting me pampered is one way to get me to change my mind and forgive everything he has do