Mercy Copypasta Novels & Stories

Her gaze shifted then, drawn to the rustling in his other hand—a bloodstained note, crumpled but still clutched tight. With shaky hands, Miracle unfolded the letter, her heart breaking more with every word she read in her mind: 'Though I know that reading this will tear your heart apart, it's okay, my children. Trust me when I say that no one is to be blamed. Trust me when I say that I do not seek revenge but wish for this world to be saved. Hatred kills, but kindness has the power to heal countless souls. As you stand to protect this world, never forget who you are. Let your hearts remain full of love and compassion, for it is through these that you will find strength and peace...'

The mumbling came again and this time she made out the words ‘dishes’ ‘invite’ and ‘lazy’ “I’ll handle it” “Okay. You’re busy” “Yes sadly, so tomorrow?” “Cool. Bye” She took a left turn as she ended the call, crashing into a hard body. Although whoever it was grabbed her waist to prevent the fall but instead they both fell. She hit the ground hard with the person right on top of her.

She seemed hurt by her refusal. With a sharp tone, Mercy answered her back. “Do you have to lack anything for me to gift you? Take it with you, and if you don’t want to, throw it away.” Seeming to have annoyed Mercy, Muya apologized immediately “I am sorry, miss. I didn’t mean to reject the gift. I’ll take it. I’ll take it.” With a big smile, Mercy touched her and assured her “Don’t worry, Muya. I am not forcing you to take. It’s just that this is my first gift for you. If you don’t like it, don’t mind ill change for something else.”

“Perfect. One more. Mercy is weakness.” “Please...” “Mercy. Is. Weakness.” I look at them bleeding, crying, staring at me like I’m their last hope. “Mercy is weakness,” I whisper. “Louder.” “Mercy is weakness.” “LOUDER!” “MERCY IS WEAKNESS!” The shout tears out of me and something inside me just… snaps. He smiles like I finally passed the test.

I called out to the monster that birthed me but he just smirked at me, being very careful soonas not be caught by the mafia man. I had no idea why I even tried, but in this moment, I called out to everything and anyone as I was being dragged away but nothing and noone helped me. I was dragged like a heavy bag being carried by a weak person, through the mud and dirt like a dirty rat but I guess that was what I was to everyone. Filthy, useless, a burden and not even human My plea for mercy fell on deaf ears because to them, I didn't deserve it. After being dragged for a little while, my skin was bruised and felt like fire but I had stopped fighting because there was no strength left in me.

"Justice isn't a cage! Justice is the fact that we're still standing despite everything you did to us! My mother didn't die so I could be a prisoner! She died so I could be the Ending!" I flooded the Spire’s protocol with the sensation of Mercy. Not the mercy of a god, but the messy, difficult mercy of a human being who knows they aren't perfect. I showed the Echo the feeling of the 136th chapter—the joy of the twins’ laughter, the warmth of the sun on a scarred shoulder, the taste of bread shared in the mud. I showed it that a world that remembers its pain but chooses joy is more powerful than a world that is "Clean."

“Like I said, I’m not here to fight. I only want to understand why.” Mercy’s lips quivered as tears rolled down her cheeks. “I did it to get your attention,” she said quietly. Ken froze for a moment, confused by her words. “You did it to get my attention?” He shook his head slowly. “What, Mercy? Before now, have I ever owed you anything? Do you even know how much I invested in this? You just woke up one day and decided to ruin everything?” Mercy broke down completely, sobbing uncontrollably. “I allowed my emotions to take over me,” she cried. “I didn’t mean to hurt you. I just wanted you to notice me.”

“Miles, it’s me, call me back please just call me back and tell me what’s going on.” I hang up and stare at the screen, willing it to light up with his name, with some explanation for that text. Another message comes through instead. ‘Don’t call. Just send money. $500. Please.’ The ice bag slips off my knee and hits the floor but I don’t pick it up. Five hundred dollars. I don’t have five hundred dollars, not right now, not with everything else I’m paying for, and even if I did I know exactly what he needs it for and it’s not something I can enable.

Recognition, again, like the two of us were discovering a shared language without the words for it. “You can’t promise that,” she whispered. “I can promise me,” I said. “That’s all anyone can do.” Mercy appeared behind us, as if she’d stepped out of the air itself. She carried a small pouch at her hip, herbs and needles and other quiet weapons. “Stop,” she said. We stopped. Mercy crouched and pressed her palm to the ground, eyes half-lidded. The gesture looked like prayer until you watched her fingers, the way they traced patterns too deliberate to be reverent.