Kindness Kills Novels & Stories

Then, I saw what he did next, and it was pure madness. He laid the child Susie had given birth to right next to my body and cranked the sauna to an unbearable 180 degrees. My eyes were wide open in shock. Chester was trying to cook himself alive! The most shocking thing was that Chester, out of pure selfishness, had actually suffocated Susie's own child. I could only watch as the child was transformed into a mummy, just as I had been. At that moment, Chester pretended to scream, "Oh, my baby!"

"Why are you all so wicked?" His eyebrows rose. "Wicked?" "Monstrous. Evil. Pick whichever word you prefer." I moved closer without thinking, the water swirling around my waist. "You kill people as you like. Threaten them. Rule through fear and violence. Why?" "What would you have us do instead?" "Be kinder. Be better." He laughed, but there was no humor in it. "Kindness? You think kindness rules a pack? Instills fear in the hearts of enemies?"

From behind his back, he pulled out a sharp utility knife he had prepared before coming home and decided to personally destroy Nova, the demon who had killed me. "You don't get to replace Tina after killing her. You're not worthy." Right after saying that, he lunged forward and ruthlessly slashed the knife across Nova's neck. "Crack!" The knife sliced through her throat, exposing a chaotic mess of multicolored wires. Electricity crackled loudly, and the sweet smile on her face froze. She tried to speak, but the sounds she could make were only distorted glitch noises. Moments later, her body collapsed heavily onto the floor, and the light in her eyes went dark. She never moved again.

Violence was never the answer. For most of her life, Liviana lived by this philosophy. Kindness Is key, she would say, preaching it to anyone who dared ask. Violence is never the answer. Often times more than not, this phrase would get Liviana into more trouble than it would save her from. Somehow, her kindness was never worth as much as the pain a punch had to offer. No matter how many problems she solved, or souls she saved, or days she made brighter, she would always be called ridiculous in the end because she had done it all kindly. She never even had to raise a fist.

“No, my love. I am precise. Calculated. Necessary. The world does not survive on kindness alone.” Tears blurred her vision. “You killed them! Here! In this apartment! They were… they were…” Her voice broke. “They were just like me!” He tilted his head, studying her as one might study a fragile, fragile piece of glass. “They were… inconvenient. Weak. Choices must be made. And yes, I was the one who made them. But you…” He leaned in slightly, his voice a whisper now, cold and sharp. “You are different. Stronger. Compliant. Observant. That is why you survive.”

A hard thrust punctuated the next word: “—for someone who is nothing to you?” Her chin lifted, trembling. “Because—because he was the first to show me real kindness.” Silence cracked through the air. She felt the danger the moment the word left her lips. Kindness. Hell vibrated, heat pulsing through the floor, rippling through the walls, sparking in Apollo’s eyes like molten lightning. “There it is,” he whispered. “That word.” The word landed heavier than any accusation. Kindness was not part of Hell’s grammar. It was not accounted for in prophecy, not measured in bargains or blood. It did not obey. It did not require permission.

"Don't panic; I have everything under control. No one is going to hurt you." I couldn't help laughing at the worried look on his face. Then he looked really concerned when that laughter turned into howls of pure cackling. I'm sure he thought I was losing my shit, but nothing could be further from the truth. My mind was as clear as a bell in the Italian countryside. "Elena, what…?" "Do you know what killing people with kindness does to them, Ryder? It eats them up inside, especially when they've done you wrong. Though they may have no conscience, some part of them, some minuscule thread of humanity, destroys them little by little."

"Please, miss… My mom's still in there. I'm a little man; I have to protect her. Just give us one, please…" "Iris, give it to him." I hadn't even spoken yet when my best friend, Eliza Pearl, already had tears welling up in her eyes, as if they might spill at any second. "They say a real man never kneels unless he has to—this guy's willing to throw away his pride just to save people. Besides, we've got two detonators anyway… Maybe one would be enough? "Why don't we give him one? It's the apocalypse—if we're all still human, shouldn't we be helping each other?"

“My goodness, you look exhausted. That place sucked you dry, didn't it?” “You could say so. Now the client is dead,” “You say that like you feel sorry for him. By the books, he was a terrible person. A criminal.” “Yeah, that didn't mean I wanted him to be torn to shreds and killed in a brutal manner. No one deserves that, no matter how terrible they are.” She stared at me, her eyes narrowed. “That kind of thinking will get you killed out there in this cold, wicked world, sweetie.” “How can you say that? Is it wrong to be kind?”

A kindness from the thing that wears black robes and carries a scythe? I almost laugh at the thought—silent, bitter. Death being *kind*? No. That can’t be. He said there would be no going back. That I would be hated, feared, hunted. Kindness doesn’t fit the bargain. This is utility. A tool kept sharp so it lasts longer. A scion who burns out too quickly is useless. Surely that’s it. Surely. A small shadow falls across the stump. I look up.