Tainted Sorrow Novels & Stories

That would not be the woman she had born and raised with love, she'd break to death. "My God, your imagination works way too far," paused Clara feigning a surprised gesture. "It's not about killing; wouldn't you like to make them pay? Or lose everything too, suffer maybe. And experience the hell they put you through." she asks and June only stays silent whilst a raging battle goes on her oblique side that only she knew. "I think I'm too busy for your job." June says going back to her cleaning. "I can help you." Clara paused her fingers grazing the bottle she drunk from but June ignired her still,

Her expression was full of regret, kindness entwined with sorrow. I wanted to ask so many things, to unravel the mystery of this curse that had plagued my life, but I could feel it—the pull, the tether drawing me back. My spirit, or whatever ghostly reflection of myself this was, was fading, slipping from this ethereal plane back to my corporeal existence. “I’m sorry, Mum,” I whispered, a lament for wounds I could not heal. Tears spilled unbidden, hot and relentless. My heart ached with the weight of each unshed sorrow for the life I took from her and all the others. “If I could undo it—”

You have to believe me! She pulled off her jacket, revealing skin on her chest that was raw and nearly bleeding. "I've cleaned it all up. I erased every mark. Please just give me one more chance, okay?" She stared at me, pleading for even a hint of pity. I gave her none. I exhaled and said, "This no longer matters to me, Rene. You need to look after yourself." Rene sank to the floor with a thud, covering her face as her sobs shook the room. I didn't turn back. I got into my car and drove off onto the boulevard.

Not even the shadows that once answered my smallest thought. I close my swollen eyes. Two days. Then fire. Then perhaps… peace. In the silence of my ruined hearing, I mouth one last word against the dark: *Sorry.* To Mom. To Dad. To Victoria. To the girl I used to be. The chains creak. The torchlight flickers. And Raven Winterstar waits for the end she can no longer outrun. The Guard's Lament

She was caught in the gravitational pull of a star that had just gone supernova. Victor watched the tremor of her lips, tilting his head ever so lightly, and a dark, twisted satisfaction coiled in his gut. He loved it. He loved the way she broke under his gaze, the way her pulse hammered against the delicate skin of her throat like a trapped bird. The adrenaline from the docks was still screaming through his veins, a jagged, addictive high, and seeing her here, fragile, weeping, and utterly at his mercy, was the ultimate fuel.

the black streaks looked like war paint gone sadder. I let the tears come then... hot and ugly, sliding through the makeup like I was washing color out of my future. They came in waves... sorrow first for the man who loved another... then rage at the witch who’d erred... then a fierce, animal pulse at the thought of being second. I curled on the floor, clutching the vial until my knuckles went white. “I’ll make you pay for this, Tessa,” I whispered into the dark... the words were not a plea.

My heels clunk on the concrete ground as I hurried, while attempting to take a few sips of my water. I made it but just as I was about to open the door, a rough hand enclosed itself around my forearm. I spun around, coming face to face with Victor. This time, his expression was different. He seemed annoyed, a little deranged but most of all-the lust in his eyes was not the appealing kind.

I struggled wildly, my nails leaving bloody scratches on their arms. One of them cursed and gripped my arm tighter. I could feel my bones groaning under the pressure. "You can't do this!" I screamed at Darren. "I'm your wife! This is your blood! The baby will die!" "Then let it die," Darren said, looking down at me. "A bastard with tainted blood doesn't deserve to live in this world." The moment the needle pierced my skin, a burning pain spread through my veins. The drug felt like liquid fire coursing through my body.

The road blurred, flashing past as my insides churned, battered and ready to spill out. A scream ripped from my throat as agony ripped through me, stabbing deep, relentless. The car dragged me for hundreds of feet before my shredded coat gave way. I collapsed into the muck, my vision filled with the sight of my own leg. My flesh was ripped open, blood mixing with stormwater. My body finally gave out. Face-down in the mud and paralyzed with pain, all illusions I’d clung to about Michael shattered. A Good Samaritan eventually stopped and took me home.

Just‌ opened t⁠he d‍oor and let me walk out. Th‌e drive home was a blur. Rai⁠n started‌ falling ha⁠lfway the‌re, streakin‍g the win⁠dshield‌ like m‌y‌ tears. I kept replaying ev​erything—Stefan’s⁠ rej‍ection, th⁠e⁠ pre‍g​nancy, my stupid hall⁠ucin‍ation. And u⁠nderneath it al​l, the guilt. Con‍r⁠ad had‍ been trying. We’d been trying. Pizza nigh‍ts with David, quiet⁠ talks, even the sex had felt like r​eco‌nnecting. But it w​asn’t enough for m⁠e. I k‌ept sabotaging i‌t.