No Memory, No Mercy Novels & Stories

Color of innocence, compassion, happiness, curiosity and so many more. His eyes flung open in alarm. Some poetic shit that was. Where the hell did that come from? Did he really think that up? What the fuck is happening with him? He took a long sigh and harshly rubbed his face. The girl was driving him insane. Killin Serrano who never had a problem eliminating people as deadly as death from the face of the earth was right now struggling to get rid of a girl's goddamned memories from his mind.

Blood spurted through the crack in the door. “Show no mercy.” Kimberly’s screams became thick and wet. She said my name again, and again. I chanted louder, trying to drown out the sound. “Show no mercy.” The screams fell silent. “Show no mercy.” The demon swallowed. “Show no mercy.” “Show no mercy.” “Show no mercy.”

On the 12th of August 1995, I was seated on the couch watching my favorite show "Best Friends' ' with a bowl of popcorn I made that evening. When I got a call from Julie and asked what I was doing, I told her I was watching my favorite program. And then she told me to check the latest updates from the government and that I had to tune in to the news channel. I didn't wait a second. I changed to the news channel and the update was that "The Military Camp was burnt down leaving no persons alive". I tried to find my voice as Julie kept calling my name on the phone but I paid no attention to her. I broke into hot tears, not saying a word to her. She kept calling my name but I was in no mood for

“It’s comfortable.” “Yeah. You look great.” “Thanks.” The conversation was a bit more tedious than she would’ve hoped, but then, she had no idea how often she’d spoken to another person. Maybe never. Maybe that’s why she was bad at it. “Still… no memories then?” Mercy shook her head. “Unfortunately… no. Not really. I had a few dreams, but nothing that really stuck.” He looked interested anyway. August scooted forward onto the edge of his seat. “What sort of dreams?”

“Memory can disappear. Love cannot.” ⸻ The Cathedral of Seven Bells became unnaturally silent. Snow drifted through the shattered stained-glass windows, settling across the ancient marble floor like a white funeral cloth. Every soldier. Every guardian. Every member of the Black Council watched without breathing. Two brothers stood only twenty feet apart. One remembered everything. The other… Remembered nothing. ⸻ Alessio slowly lowered the Oath Blade. He had crossed battlefields. Survived assassinations.

We were simply a way for them to make money, and the moment any of us became a problem, they would deal with us however they wanted. Mercy couldn’t even stand properly the next day. She remained curled up in one corner of the room, barely speaking to anyone. Even walking to the toilet was difficult for her. We took turns helping her because she was too weak to do much by herself. We all wanted to comfort her, but deep down, every one of us was asking the same question in silence. *If they could do that to Mercy, what was waiting for the rest of us?* As we sat in that suffocating silence, terrified of our own shadows, the heavy wooden door was suddenly thrown wide open, and a guard barked out

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐔𝐧𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐂𝐮𝐫𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭

No one listens. Of course they don’t. They never did. “Memory fragments detected.” “Purge incomplete.” “Force overwrite.” Pain hits. Instant. Explosive. My head jerks back. A scream tears out of me before I can stop it. Everything fractures. Images— faces— blood— voices— Leon. His name hits harder than anything else. Sharp. Clear. Mine. You’re not leaving again. The memory slams into place. Solid. Unbreakable. “No.”

Content Warning: Depictions of violence and bloodshed Dominicus I shut my eyes tightly, willing the memories to fade. But when I open them again, I force myself not to look away from that structure. The place that holds all my nightmares. The mansion looms before us, a silent testament to the horrors it witnessed. My heart races, a cold sweat breaking out across my skin as the memories threaten to overwhelm me. I take a deep, shuddering breath, the cool air doing little to calm the storm raging inside me. My hands tremble, and I clench them into fists, trying to ground myself in the present.

It does. They laugh. I don’t scream. But beneath it all — the bruises, the ash, the silence — I store every memory like coal. Not to forget. But to remember. Because one day, they will bow. And when they do— I will not forgive them. I will watch them choke on the same silence they forced down my throat. I will see their pride split open like flesh under a dull blade. And I will burn every name they ever gave me… until the only one they remember is the one they whisper in fear. Araya.