No Memory, No Mercy Novels & Stories

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.

Igor and his team didn't make any move at all, then Madden stood tall to his feet. Loud threw him a brandishing machete which he caught cleanly by the hilt, then he started walking to Mercy, suspense filling the room. "My boys surrounded this bar already! They're on their way to this hall presently! Kill me and you won't get the goods!" Mercy shouted desperately as she stood, shifting. "I'll kill you and still get the goods, then I'll proceed to kill everyone you love... Whore!" Madden replied glacially, raising the machete on her neck.

"Wonderful. I was almost moved for a second. I didn't expect you to be this kind of man. I will never forgive you. Just wait." I hummed softly. "You pushed me toward someone else with your own hands. Remember that. Do not regret it. Because I will never forgive what you did either." After hanging up, I asked Nora to release a simple statement. It only said that Mira Lane and I were negotiating a divorce. No explanations.

I remember his breath stuttering against mine when I pull him closer, not gently, not politely, but like I’ve been starving and he’s the first honest thing in a century. I remember the way my own body softened and sharpened all at once. I remember the sound I made. And the memory is cruel because I cannot confirm it. I cannot speak the words that would make it real. I cannot ask him if he remembers too without turning it into leverage for time. I cannot even cry properly, because crying draws attention, and attention is the currency time uses to purchase control. So I sit. And I yearn like a quiet illness. Mercy moves through the room with the calm of someone doing chores, which is how she p

"OK!" Breakfast was fast today, fresh snow had fallen during the night and everyone wanted to hit the slopes first. Nobody noticed that Hannah was missing. Alissa already had everything ready an hour after breakfast, she sat on the sofa in the living room and took the remote control. But there was just nothing decent on TV and she turned it off after a few minutes. She went to the bookshelf and took out a novel, the title sounded promising and so she decided to take it with her room and read it comfortably in her bed. In the past few months she had read a great many books; she had had nothing else to do. She shook the thought away and opened the door to her room on the second floor. She thre

I listened to none of it as memories of their abuses flooded my mind, nearly traumatizing me again. “You will live, that I promise,” I said, turning away. “Not as family, but as servants. I’ll make you remember every day what you took from me when I was helpless—every detail, in vivid shades. Mercy was a privilege you never gave me, even when I pleaded for it many times.” Their screams followed me out, but I cared less. I didn’t look back, and I had no intention of doing so. “But mercy I will offer, and that mercy is keeping you all alive—because you would wish I had killed you all.”

No mercy. With a slow, deliberate movement, the woman raised her foot and delivered a sharp, calculated kick to the girl’s side. There was no hesitation, no remorse. The impact sent the unconscious girl rolling down the muddy slope, her body tumbling awkwardly before it splashed into the dark, rushing waters below. The river, cold and unfeeling, swallowed her whole, its relentless current pulling her under, dragging her away from the shore. The woman remained still, her gaze locked on the spot where the girl had disappeared, waiting. Watching.

He just watched me, waiting, some of the fight draining out of his posture as exhaustion took its place. "My memory returned three weeks ago," I said. "Almost exactly. Not fragments. Not pieces surfacing slowly the way I let you believe. All of it, arriving over the course of maybe two days, sharp and complete and utterly unwelcome." "Three weeks," Matteo repeated, quiet.