The Asylum Confessions Novels & Stories

She had reached her limit and could not bear the torture anymore. "I've had enough of this! Why do I receive such treatment? Have I committed a crime? What have I done wrong? Is it an offense to come here? Is it a violation to let you know that I am pregnant with your child in my womb? Just tell me, Anthony!" Aysel's voice grew louder with each word coming out of her quivering lips. Aysel's final words hit him like a bomb, leaving him in shock at that moment. His fingers unconsciously released their grip around her neck, falling to his side effortlessly.

Ashley felt Dominic tense beside her. Elena lifted the notebook. “This belonged to Jonathan Wellspring.” Ashley’s father. She carefully opened the final page. “The last page contains a dying confession.” The harbor fell completely silent. Patrick Walker’s expression remained unreadable. Alvin stepped out from behind his vehicle. Dominic slowly raised his pistol. Every eye fixed on Elena. She drew a slow breath. Then began to read. “If anyone is reading this, then I am already dead…” Ashley’s heart nearly stopped. “The man responsible for our deaths is not the one you believe.”

There were even several stills from a video of me making love to Jane. When I saw them, my face went pale and my heart sank completely. Those chat logs and videos were damning. As more stills appeared before me, I could hear ringing in my ears as my mind went blank. I kept flipping through the papers until my gaze fixed on the line written at the top. [Andy, I quit. I wish you and Jane a healthy pup soon.] No! It was not like that! My knees went weak and I fell onto the couch. The papers dropped from my hands and scattered around me. I took out my phone in a panic and kept calling Jane.

"I was still conscious at that time. I just couldn't move. I heard what you said." Esmerelda's eyes widened. She had said more than just that. Frantic, she asked, "Mom, did you only hear that one line? Was there anything else?" Ruth was stunned. She asked coldly, "You said more?" Relief flooded over Esmerelda. As she blinked, tears rolled down her cheeks. She flung herself on the bed and grabbed Ruth's hand, saying, "Mom, Clara was accusing me, and I lost my temper. I was just momentarily confused. You know me. I was just throwing a fit…"

Damian POV I escape the alley, walking hazily from the borders of my doom, the alley that used its predatory jaws to covertly lick up my good fortune, turning me into a pauper in minutes. “Watch where you are going, stupid!” a driver curses out as I wander into the road. Damn… I am actually running mad. Mad not just from obscurity, but from the weary decision I took today. To give away all I had to the kidnappers. What if they didn’t return Caleb?

Lucien’s face filled the frame, silver hair catching the study lamp, eyes level, voice calm as a weather report. “My name is Lucien Sinclair, and this… is the truth.” She watched. Watched him list the abuses. The cheating. The twins separated at birth. The staged accident. Watched him pull out the folder. Watched the forged statements. The doctored emails. The manipulated audio of her own voice. Watched him say, his voice cracking at the perfect moment, “This is my confession. And the woman responsible… has always been under my roof.” The video ended. Silence filled the room, thicker than the air.

The dried wax that clung to the edge of my ribs. And the collar. I ran my fingers across it feeling not restrained, but claimed. Underneath the pillow, I found another card. Rest. Breathe. You're not broken. You're opened. When you're ready, write your next confession. There were no flowers. No demands. Just space. And the echo of everything we’d shared. Somewhere between heat and silence, I smiled. Because I wasn’t just a submissive anymore. I was a story unfolding. One confession at a time.

"Ian, I was wrong. I'll admit to the mistake. Please let me out. I can't breathe in here. "Ian, please let me out. I'm suffocating. I could hardly breathe in here. "Ian…" While reading those unsent messages, Ian felt his vision turn black. He plopped down on the floor.

Esther Flashback (1665) I’ve been in this asylum for God knows how long. There’s no window for me to take a record of the days, and I feel as if I’m going mad. The asylum feels like it is a dungeon, and I never eat, in case my uncle asked the staff to poison me. I watch the door when I hear a rustle of keys and someone fumbling with the lock. My eyes go wide when the door opens. I blink a few times to ensure that I’m not dreaming or hallucinating, and then, without thinking, I rush into his arms.

He smirks at me like he knows he has already won something. “When you were in the asylum were you receiving therapy or any kind of treatment? Tell us about your time there please your highness” “I was experimented on. They wanted to see how my healing factor worked in different scenarios and under different medications. There was no therapy. It was more like a prison and torture than anything therapeutic.” “Hmm. It’s strange though as we have only found one witness to this treatment and he is a known drug addict. The rest of the staff in the asylum all swear you cut yourself and blamed them”