Novelas y relatos de Incomprehensible May God Have Mercy

DANTE. I glared at the three good-for-nothing wolves kneeling before me. I looked at all the people gathered in the hall to witness their punishment for their betrayal of the pack. “What did you say?” I asked with my voice loud and clear, and that brought shivers to their spine. “Alpha, we are sorry. Please have mercy on us.” The first one pleaded and I scoffed. Mercy. That word isn’t in my vocabulary or dictionary, I don’t and will not show mercy. Showing mercy only means that you are weak and not in control, you do everything with strategy and strength, not mercy.

Benjamin got the message clearly, which made him purse his lips. "It's not like that. I think there's some kind of misunderstanding. It's a joyous occasion; let's not spoil the happiness because of a small misunderstanding. Let's talk properly next time, Ms. Morin." Benjamin tried to smile a little as he spoke. He bitterly swallowed all of his displeasure while uttering those sentences. He still couldn't grasp what was happening around him; however, he was not a fool. He was a businessman, so he knew how to handle situations like this.

At that moment, I really understood that the merciful God of the Bible, the one who always forgave a repentant heart, was not so kind when he did not have an order obeyed by his soldiers. When Miguel faced the looks of those heavenly dogs and lifted Kleyphon to drag him out the door, I noticed that the mercy of the creator was not granted to anyone who dared not to obey with his word. At that moment I understood that humanity was only a reflection of its Creator. And I couldn't help tears and despair anymore. Not when the cold night welcomed me outside the bar, and Anne, hidden in my car, came running towards us. For a moment I swore that she had noticed something, but she still held the bib

The only way for that was to listen to gospel music and pray to God for guidance and a peace of mind. Capri…. Dear lord I know I don’t come to you as I should, these day its almost certain that you’re all I have and all I have ever needed. I am not worthy of your grace. I’ve made an abundance of mistakes, but yet you continue to give me breath to continue to prove to you that even though I am not perfect I am your child and you will only give me the battles I can handle. I am never alone and I must trust that you got me no matter what.

I don’t ever go to church. I don’t ever pray to God, but today was different. I found myself kneeling on both knees, folding my hands before the Christ sculpture, feeling a deep urge to pray for mercy and salvation. It’s strange; I’ve never felt such a powerful need for God like I do right now. My heart is calling out to Him, and my soul desperately longs for a miracle to make Richie better.

he echoed, his voice laced with a hint of disappointment. I pray Alexander forgives me.

Is he gone again? I sighed. I get up to get ready for school and the first thing I do is to keep my bed in good condition. Last night, I remember as I fell asleep, he stayed. Guess I need to make myself always ready to accept that God always disappears and comes back whenever he likes to. But what if he is not coming back? I feel an ache in my chest, as if I was suffocated by its bitterness. Come now. Wake up. I said to myself, patting my cheeks. You are both in a different world. And you are just a puny human. Forget about that. Try to change the view and feel someone who is more human.

You see my dear, this is no baby but the devil incarnates. His words hurt Mercy, no matter what the baby was, he was still theirs and she loves him regardless of what he is. “Even so, he is still ours.” Mercy answered with difficulty, she had a huge lump in her throat that wouldn’t go down no matter how much she tried to swallow trying to get rid of it. “No, my dear mate, he is yours, you wanted him, here he is, have fun raising him.” He told her then left the room going to his study to get some work done.

And here I am, fighting to breathe properly. Lord have mercy.

He turns his chair around now, finally looking at me, and there’s something in his expression that makes my chest feel like it’s caving in. “Good,” he says again, slower this time like he’s making sure I understand. “Let them atrophy. Let everything stop working. I don’t care.” “You don’t mean that.” “Don’t tell me what I mean.” His voice drops lower, edged with something dangerous. “You don’t know anything about me. You’ve been here less than a week and you think you can walk in and fix everything with your exercises and your breakfast trays and your goddamn curtains.” “I’m not trying to fix you.”