The True Believer Novels & Stories

“It may feel that way, but they’re not blaming you. They see me as the villain corrupting you.” “You’re not corrupting me.” He looks down at the papers on his desk, lifting one briefly before letting it drop back into place. He drags his knuckles across the wooden surface as though deep in thought. “Do you believe that, too?” I ask, my voice barely above a whisper. He pauses for a moment before meeting my gaze. “I believe in the Goddess, and I trust she wouldn’t have paired us if it would cause you harm.” “So, is that what you truly believe or just what you tell yourself to believe?”

Chuck said, "Lend me your phone, Steph." He held out a hand, and I gave him my phone. He played the video and showed it to Valerie. Meanwhile, I was dazed. I couldn't remember the last time Chuck had called me by my nickname. After watching the video, Valerie insisted that I'd used artificial intelligence to put it together. I shrugged and asked, "Will you only admit what you've done when I bring the pastor here to give his statement?" I added, "He's been feeling guilty over accepting your bribe, so he chose to tell the truth. He's already been removed from his position."

"No, no, no, we all have our specialties. Actually, I was hoping you could teach me a few things. Would you be willing to come over to my place sometime?" We exchanged a look, both of us sharing an unspoken understanding. "Percy, have you ever heard of a close, private circle that focuses on nurturing women's tractability?" Franklin led me to his house, and we sat in his bedroom as he asked me this question. I couldn't help but smile. He was a literature professor, all right. The way he talked about things made them sound almost glamorous, as if he was presenting the fetish in a much grander way.

"Mainly, this place has been deserted for a long time, and your sudden arrival gives me a chance to have a chat..." That was far from what she had anticipated… Yaslyn had initially believed he must be a mysterious holy man, with whom a conversation would unearth profound secrets. However, as she observed the elderly man before her, his smile somewhat strained, perplexity washed over her. "Aren’t you going to share any secrets?" Yaslyn asked suspiciously. "Almsgiver, I'm just an ordinary person. I don't know any secrets. We should believe in science." 'Believe in science…'

Your mother will never let me live it down. Trust yourself and your mates. Trust your powers and your Goddess. Do not be over confident. Angel

Mine… or yours? My stomach twisted. I kept reading, the words dry in my mouth. “Temptation is strongest when we believe ourselves safe from it. That is when it finds us.” He leaned forward, elbows on his knees, eyes glinting with cruel amusement. ‘Did I find you, Father? Or did you come looking for me?’ My grip on the Bible tightened. I forced my voice steady. “True faith survives through struggle—” Ezreal smiled, slow, deliberate. ‘Did you struggle when I was inside you?’

"I can't stand three years of this nonsense! I'm coming back tomorrow! I already talked to a fortune teller. He said I can just hire someone to take my place and do some ritual. I'll bring the safe back—you figure out the rest!" My heart sank. Was he coming back? Was the safe containing all the evidence about to slip out of my control? I hung up and turned to Abby, my face tense. "The plan just changed." Her eyes darkened. "He's coming back?" "Yes." I took a deep breath. "He can't stand it out there anymore."

Space of choice, repeated, until pattern becomes indistinguishable from commitment. Or so we choose to believe. So we perform believing. So we discover whether belief itself might be genuine.

Now. Rebecca shook with rage at my words, then looked at me, her eyes brimming with disappointment and loathing. "Daniel, I get it, you don't want to split up, but you don't have to spin such a pathetic lie! "What's your dad to me? This place? It's bankrolled by the top dog himself, and he's betting on my smarts, not on any connection to you or your old man." I let out a derisive laugh.

"What's wrong? Are you scared? "Don't worry. My Padre won't torture you for the truth, just like Enzo did. He prefers… a single, clean shot. "So think carefully… Are you going to confess now, or should I invite Enzo over to tell us… who the real traitor is?"