Reverend Insanity Novels & Stories

Without saying another word I practically run out of his office. Fuck. Fuck.Fuck.Fuck. Fuck.Fuck.Fuck. Fuck.Fuck.Fuck. Fuck.Fuck.Fuck. Fuck.Fuck.Fuck. Fuck.Fuck.Fuck. Fuck.Fuck.Fuck. Fuck.Fuck.Fuck. Fuck.Fuck.Fuck. Fuck.Fuck.Fuck. Fuck.Fuck.Fuck. Fuck.Fuck.Fuck. Fuck.Fuck.Fuck. Fuck.Fuck.Fuck.

He had a wide smile on his face exposing his colouring teeth. I stood up, insulted at his sheer nerve. "Don't feed me lies father, you come to my house and you are not even sober, how do you expect me to believe you are genuinely looking for help?" He was quick to defend himself. "I only had one drink Sophia, I promise. I'm not drunk, I just needed a sip to get over my anxiety of coming here." I shook my head in disappointment as I looked at my father. He would never change. Alcohol will always come first in his life. "I've sent you to rehab three times father, none of them have worked since you always go back to drinking again. Why now?"

the Reverend intoned in his deep baritone, "Mother and Son, Brother and Sister. You shall lay here together before the altar and leave an offering of seed into the womb, and leave together in peace and the sanctity of silence." The Reverend then nodded somberly to all of us and left the room. I was somewhat confused at that point. Although it is plenty clear now, I honestly didn't understand what was to come next. My confusion mounted as first Mama then Su lay their bouquets of Poppies on the altar

"You liar! You had me and my son completely fooled! You even ruined Elias' marriage!" At that point, a crowd had gathered at the front door. The neighbors had heard the commotion and came over. Rhonda was so enraged that she was close to losing all sense of reason. She didn't care about keeping up appearances anymore. Without me needing to say anything, she pointed at Gabriel and shouted at the top of her lungs. "Everyone, look! That's the deputy director of the Reimdale Hospital. This man found himself a mistress and brought her home. Then, he got his son to get a divorce so that the son could marry his mistress and take care of the child he had with his mistress!

At the instant, they knew about the unexpected presence of INSANE. "Oh! Wait. I apologize", Insane said loudly to the officiant. And again started to speak in the same manner Zane was finished speaking his vows. "I, INSANE, in faith, honesty, and love, take you, 'Z', to be my wedded husband, I give you all that I have myself and my love. And I'm apologizing for hurting you. I love you. I love you so much". Insane's voice was shaking with her entire body shivering under Zane's demonic gazes. Her entire self was feeling weak and looked like she would fall on the floor at any moment.

The picture on the screen felt like an uppercut, taken right on the chin. It was a picture that mocked their failure—a picture that sent a wave of emotions through their core. The study, once a place of peace, knowledge, and warmth, was now a stage for a nightmare. Her father, once a king in the mansion, was now a disgraced and dethroned king. The shadowy figure behind him was a phantom, a ghost in their own narrative, and the eagle tattoo was a brand, a symbol of a power they had grossly underestimated.

“James’s not bad looking, but compared to Rourke, he does fall short.” A sudden chill ran through me. “Mom, you’re not thinking about going back to him, are you?” She rolled her eyes. “Pfft! Ever since I found out about his mistress, I haven’t thought about being with him again. “But you know, we had been married for so long. It’s hard for me to let any other man in again...” She paused, then shifted the subject. “But this James Cotton—he’s a good man. Young but mature enough. I might give it a try!”

His accusatory tone might have been intimidating if it weren’t so absurd. Yes, I had liked him. But I had liked the memory of who he used to be—an open, cheerful, athletic boy who lit up a room with his smile. Not this person standing in front of me now: a manipulative, self-absorbed man reeking of entitlement and bitterness.

Not even the blooming trees at the racetrack could rival her beauty that day. Callan studied my expressions closely. He did not miss a single detail as I recounted the scene. The psychological tests went on throughout the night. By morning, the report was in my parents' hands. Callan explained, "It's primarily psychological trauma, along with severe hallucinations and delusions. I recommend inpatient treatment." "Bullshit! I'm not sick!" I roared. A sedative was injected into my arm. Even so, I thrashed and yelled, "My wife's waiting for me at home! I have to go back!"

After a moment, he continued, "You're a woman. Can't you have some self-respect? Think about how disgusting you looked when you came back last year. "Even I couldn't stand seeing you. You're filthy and sickening! If Jennifer hadn't talked me out of it, I wouldn't have bothered. You'd be long rotten!" At that moment, my soul stood right before him, weeping silently. "I'm warning you right now, Helen. If you screw up again this time, I don't mind locking you up for another decade. Maybe that'll make you learn your lesson!" He was done yelling, but there were still no signs of me. He waved impatiently at the housekeepers, urging them to search my room.