Sisters Of Quiet Mercy Novels & Stories

He noted these things and said none of them, which was its own kind of patience. “Work’s been manageable,” Jeff offered. “Good.” “You?” “The same.” The garden did what gardens did in the late afternoon — shifted light, moved slightly in a wind that wasn’t perceptible from inside, went about its business with the complete indifference of things that had no interest in human complications. They watched it for a while in the easy silence of brothers who had grown up together and come back to each other across distance and difficulty and were, for this particular half hour in this particular corridor, simply in the same place at the same time without it needing to mean anything more than that.

He nodded once, solemn as a priest, and pulled back the sheet. Alexa looked at her sister's face. She wanted to scream. She wanted to fold herself into the smallest possible shape and disappear between the floor tiles. But the scream stayed locked behind her teeth, and her feet stayed planted. Alice's skin was gray. Her lips were blue. Her eyes were closed, but not peacefully, there was tension in her jaw, a tightness that spoke of struggle. The kind of struggle that leaves its fingerprints on the living and follows them into the dark. Her hands, visible at the edges of the sheet, were curled into fists.

She says, and my dread increases when she continues, “her name is Harley, she's twenty seven, five foot three, dark blue eyes, brown hair, small chest.” “You just described yourself, apart from the age, you look a lot younger” I tell her. Her shoulders slump in defeat and my mood falls lower when she looks at me. “Yes, I know, she is my sister.” “What's your name?” Knight asks her. “Harlow O'Bryn.” “Age?” I ask “Twenty four.” “Fuck bitch, you look like you're nineteen, whatever it is you are eating I need me some,” Mercy says. “You need to get her back to the clubhouse, I'll head to the river, meet up later.” I tell Mercy and Knight, giving the girl one last look before Mercy moves from the

Her brother stood still, torn between anger and guilt, while Mercy lay weak and pale, her eyes slowly closing from exhaustion. Outside, footsteps echoed faintly down the corridor. Somewhere in the distance, a phone began to ring sharp, persistent, and urgent. But Mercy didn’t hear it. Her hand slipped weakly from her brother’s, and she whispered one last please “Please… take it easy…”

Sister Maria he cold stone floor of my cell is a constant reminder. The rough wool of my habit scratches my skin, a perpetual penance for a sin I haven't even committed yet. Not officially. My parents’ dream, this life of silent devotion, is my beautiful, gilded cage. I see my sisters, Mary and Marie, in my mind’s eye. Their laughter, the swell of their pregnant bellies, the sticky hands of their children clinging to their legs—a life of messy, glorious, chosen chaos. I have only this silence, this ache between my legs that is a hollow, empty chapel all its own.

The pack house was quiet in the specific way that followed loud things. Xander carried Silas through the main entrance and the first thing he registered was the dust. It was everywhere — on the floors, on the windowsills, caught in the early morning light coming through the gaps where windows had been. Fine grey dust, slightly darker in places, with no smell and no weight. What was left of the Silent Sisters once the root frequency that had animated them stopped broadcasting. They'd collapsed all at once, Yemi told him later. Mid-movement, mid-reach, simultaneous. Just stopped and came apart, like the decision had been made somewhere else and the execution was instantaneous. Which it had bee

“She tries to kill me! every time…she always tries, a nd never succeeds. She’s the daughter of a whore…..a child of shame, and filth. Please, save my mom and me….save us from Aurora.” “Morgan, Denise.” Armando hissed, grabbing a screaming Morgan off the floor….or rather, trying to because she pulled him to the floor along with her. “Stop this nonsense, right now! How dare you humiliate your sister and this family like this? And on a night like this?” he snapped, trying to pull Morgan, but she seemed to have the strength of ten hungry wild cats. Because she did not budge. My eyes moved over to Silas, and he was still…. painfully so. The silence that radiated from Silas Mercer was more terrify

Mum's sobs became louder. "Mum?" I shook her gently feeling a sense of dreaded urgency, "what is Luc talking about?" "Nothing," Mum croaked with a sniff, her eyes were bloodshot. "Your sister is possessed." Luc screeched. A high-pitched sound that made the hair on my arms stand on ends. "Luc—" I blurted as I moved to her, cautiously putting one foot before the other like I was approaching a wild animal. I felt the onset of a pandemonium.

“You have visited the witch, I see.” “I need your help in finding my sister. I’m willing to pay whatever you ask.” His brows raised. “You paid a pretty heavy price just recently. Are you sure you’re up to it again, so soon?” “I’m here aren’t I?” He studied her for a moment before pressing a button to summon his men. Moments later, both Jeremiah and Victor entered through a side door that was camouflaged by paneling. She raised her chin in what looked like defiance, but was really an act of fortification for herself over what was to come, while their lustful eyes consumed her.