Wild Confession Novels & Stories

Not impatiently, but with the measured assurance of a surgeon asking where it hurt. The question was the pinprick that burst the dam. The words, bottled so long, brimming with guilt and fear and nightmare thrill, burst out. They were not loud. They were a whisper, torn from the darkest, most fragmented part of him, a confession whispered into the holy quiet of their common ground. "I don't know who I am anymore."

But Ethan sat frozen, trembling. How had this come to him? Who sent it? The timestamp was from years ago the night before his scandal broke. He knew what it meant. The universe or perhaps fate itself was giving him one more chance. Ethan began writing again. Not an article. A confession. He wrote with shaking hands no editor, no filters, no agenda. Just truth. He detailed everything: the manipulation, the greed, the silence that had cost two people their peace. He named names, included receipts, attached the voice clip.

He took a deep breath, gathering the strength to reveal the secrets that had haunted him for so long. "I was young and foolish," Jacob began, his voice filled with regret. "I fell in love with a woman who society deemed unworthy of me. We hid our affair from the world, but eventually, the truth was exposed. It tore families apart, destroyed reputations, and left a trail of broken hearts." As Jacob spoke, the room seemed to hold its breath, captivated by the weight of his confession. Katara and Sean listened intently, their hearts breaking for the man before them.

The mark of my betrayal. Gasps ripple through the air. Gerald’s is the loudest. “I need your confession,” he says, voice steady but trembling with the effort to stay calm. “Now.” And I break. Words spill from me like molten iron, searing everything they touch. I confess. Every lie, every act, every secret. The crowd’s whispers slice like knives, their gasps spreading like wildfire, feeding on my shame. But I keep speaking. I need to. It’s the only way I can beg for judgment; death or forgiveness.

“I brought you back to save you from the world’s corruption, not to watch you throw yourself into it.” We broke up with no agreement. His words hung in the air like smoke, fogging my mind as I went about my work. I heard confessions that morning, offering absolution to sins that seemed trivial compared to the ones we committed in the tunnels. A lay employee confessed to theft. A beginner confessed to unclean thoughts. I said the usual words, but my mind was elsewhere. On Caterina’s soft gasps in the dark. On the chained book that contained centuries of deception.

Leaning in, I kiss him saying, “You surprised me.” “You always underestimated me…” He says, smiling, tucking my fringes neatly behind my ear again to see my face. We fell asleep in each other’s arms, calm and relaxed after the exhaustive lovemaking session which lasted for over six hours. The next morning I woke up with a headache and a bad hangover. Naked, on top of my new colleague's bed. Fuck. Regret starts to seep in.. how could I have been so stupid? I turn sideways to look at the person beside me and? Fuck!! Zac! Holy shit. How could I betray Amy like that? Our lifelong friendship! She's going to hate me for this! The regrets are all starting to crowd into my head. I'm devastated. I h

The confessor was not all that nice, as she made him kill his parents. He had no control of himself and didn't know what he was doing. But finally, the spell was broken and he coming back to his senses, he realized all that he's done and lost. He realized how he'd been in bondage for years, and even killed his own parents. It broke him. He mourned for months, trying to get over it, but couldn't. The confessors had fled and went into hiding, but unfortunately, their hideout was discovered - somehow- and they were ambushed.

I dug March’s card from beneath a couple of takeout menus on the fridge and dialed his number. I shoved pasta around the pan with a wooden spoon while I waited for him to answer. When he didn’t, I left a message asking him to call me to arrange that coffee. I didn’t want to talk about it, but I was not willing to hide behind my addiction anymore. For years, it hax controlled me and held me captive. In an odd kind of way, I was thankful for it. If it hadn’t, I never would have met Ivan. I never would have experienced what it was like to trust someone with your body and your mind and, eventually, your heart.

I say with a gasp. "Okay, baby, just stay with me," Mom says. I nod my head and gather my strength. "I know who it was, Mom." "Who, baby?" "It was Professor David Hamilton. The high school professor." "Are you sure?" The nurse asks cautiously. “That's a serious accusation." "Yes, I understand the gravity of the accusation, and I am certain that the man who raped me and threw me out of the window that night was Professor Hamilton. He was heavily intoxicated, barely able to stand, and he reeked of alcohol and cigarettes."

The host said nervously. "Hello everyone this is Crimson Lee and i would first like to apologize to the public for this uproar, I would also like to apologise to my agency and my sisters here, even though I didn't drug the coffee it was I who bought it so it isn't off that Kristen would blame me for it. It was a few days ago, a week I think....