Injustice Novels & Stories

His punishment was life imprisonment for being convicted of premeditated and aggravated murder. When the gavel struck three times, the trial came to an end. Emily Rose felt a great sense of relief that justice had been served for the victims of the brutal murders she had represented. She did not want psychological issues to be used as an excuse for the defendant to avoid prison time. To everyone's surprise, Jared Detroit approached Emily and attacked her with his bare hands. He struck the right side of the female prosecutor's head with great force. Emily's head suddenly felt dizzy as her body fell to the cold, white ceramic-tiled floor of the courtroom. As he was about to strike Emily's head

They forgot the part of me that had built empires out of blood and silence long before I put on a tie. Back in Detroit, I stood once more before the same window where peace had felt so fragile days ago. But this time, peace wasn’t the goal. Justice was. Nathaniel Blake had taken something sacred, a child’s safety, a woman’s trust and reduced it to leverage. That was his mistake. When I was done, there would not be enough left of his world to rebuild.

I crashed into the room unceremoniously and snapped up whatever glass I could get. Then I slammed the drink down that bitch's head and smacked her right across the face. Then again, this time on the left. Then again, this time on the right. And I repeated the process. Christopher grabbed my hand and pulled me backward. Yvonne hid herself behind him, crying like she was the victim here. "What are you doing, Josephine? Did I do anything?"

the world may have moved on from him but i havent. i close the laptop and sit there staring into the dark. justice isnt clean. It never is. i exposed the truth but even now the echoes of their lies linger soft persistent whispering through the silence. and i know deep down that some stains dont wash away with proof.

he said coldly, “but you’re not innocent either. For three years, I thought about sending you back to your old town. I was even willing to give you money, as much as you wanted. But you were too greedy.” His voice hardened. “Your own greed destroyed you. You wanted too much. You wanted to be the rich, pampered daughter of this family. You brought this on yourself.” Brought this on myself? A rough, broken laugh tore from my throat and turned into coughing. I couldn’t tell if I was crying or laughing anymore. The pain was unbearable. My head throbbed until everything went black. “She can’t take any more,” Mr. Wilson shouted. “If she keeps dreaming, it could cause permanent brain damage!”

A suffocating ache still burned in my nose. The moment I snapped my eyes open, I met Wendy Larson's tear-filled gaze. "Rosalie! Thank goodness you're awake! Ricky's gone. Please, you must hold yourself together." That too-familiar voice hit me with the sudden realization that I'd been reborn on the very day I gave my son, Ricky Lambert, the wrong injection and caused his "death". I stared at the crocodile tears streaked across Wendy's face as white-hot rage surged through me.

“And we’re happy that the asshole is dead?” “We’re fucking ecstatic that the asshole is dead, Jo. He went on the run after killing Hailey and it never sat right with me that he got away with murder. What happened to him feels right. It feels like justice. Not the kind that the cops and courts talk about, but a different kind, something darker and more primal. Justice like – I don’t know like what. Like something else.” “Like karma,” Jo supplied. “Like an avenging god, like the universe resetting the balance, like a biblical atoning of sins. The most divine and Old Testament justice that there is, the kind that goes beyond the laws of man straight to the savage heart of natural law.”

A few feet away, Justice sat with his laptop open on his knees, his right hand typing fluidly while his left arm—wrapped in a thick, pristine white medical bandage—rested casually against the leather armrest. ​My chest tightened, a heavy, suffocating wave of guilt and sisterly anxiety washing over my soul. I leaned forward, my hands clasping tightly in my lap as I watched him. He had been ambushed by a mob. He had been dragged into a dark, subterranean concrete box, stripped bare, and subjected to the terrifying, degrading humiliation of an illegal camera stream. He was a brilliant, teenage academic—not a hardened mercenary. ​I was terrified. I was losing sleep thinking that this horrific tr

"Officer Lancer! I was wrong! I've learned my lesson! I have elderly parents and children to support at home. I can't lose this job! Please, have mercy. Please let me go!" I stepped back, avoiding her grasp. Looking down at her, I spoke calmly, stating the simplest truth. "When you used hospital regulations as a weapon to humiliate a desperate patient's family member, you should have known this day would come. Take responsibility for your ignorance and arrogance." Justice may be late, but it was inevitable. Today, I delivered that long-overdue justice with my own hands. With Edward and Alicia taken away, the farce finally came to an end. Members of the inspection team began sealing evidence

I say, “they face the consequences.” “…logical…” “But they choose it first.” “…inefficient…” “Human.” The system pulses again— but this time— it’s not aggressive. It’s… uncertain. “…if humans choose wrong…” “…they suffer…” “Yes.” “…inefficient…” “Necessary.” “…clarify…” “Because without the choice to be wrong…” “…there’s no choice to be right.” Silence. Deep. Heavy. Like something is shifting. “…then justice is not control…”