Black Water Mercy
- Reads 74
- Votes 0
- Parts 12
Ongoing1h 56m
Last published Thu, Mar 19, 2026
Nicholius and Ryder lived by the gun, bled for the dollar, and sinned for the thrill.
Then came Rosalieya... soft eyes, sharp tongue, and a place in both their hearts.
Together, they burned through towns like a Sunday sermon gone wrong.
Three sinners. One love. And the Devil waitin' at the end of the road.
Because the wages of sin is death... and death's already tuning up its hymn.
All Rights Reserved
#258
loveandloss
Join the largest storytelling communityGet personalized story recommendations, save your favourites to your library, and comment and vote to grow your community.
You may also like
Straitjacket, Poetry in Motion
It was like canvas tearing, and now I'm in your bloodstream, can you feel me smile? Papa hits Mama. Daddy doesn't care. Sing it with me. They all hate me, come on, sing it. Can you feel me yet?Complete
betwixt
There is something betwixt good and bad; love and hate; even life and death.Complete
LETHAL HEARTS | ✓
harlow and vincent together was like fire. sometimes those fires can be lethal to a point they can no longer be put out - the only thing you can let it do is to destruct everything in its path. they were everything a relationship shouldn't have been. so toxic, violent and menacing yet, harlow was drawn to vincent like a moth to a flame. sooner or later, she would learn that their hearts were not meant to be. *** ❝ this is a ruination, it was never a love story ❞ lethal (adj) - sufficient to cause death ©saintdalaurent, 2020 [dark mature story]Complete
Bed of Lies
They broke her trust. They broke his mind. But when the past claws its way back, survival isn't enough - vengeance demands blood. Victoria learned how to stay quiet. Grief became her shadow, guilt her constant companion. It whispered in her ear that she should have been the one to die instead. Not her mother. Never her mother. If she had, maybe her father wouldn't have walked away, leaving them to fend for themselves. But silence is a fragile shield-and when the past resurfaces, dragging her into a world she barely escaped, she realizes staying quiet won't save her this time. Xavier learned how to disappear behind scars, behind rage, behind the monster his past made him. Forged by cruelty, built by betrayal, and fueled by rage, he became the kind of man other monsters feared. Scars became his armor. Violence, his language. He doesn't believe in mercy-only vengeance. Especially for the man who made him this way. Victoria was everything he had been taught to avoid - soft yet unbreakable, damaged yet defiant. She had the kind of pain that mirrored his own, a past carved into her bones, a war waged behind tired eyes. She saw through him in ways no one else had ever dared, and he hated it. Hated her. Because she made him feel. He was chaos wrapped in quiet fury, a storm threatening to consume everything in its path. And yet, when she looked at him, she didn't just see the monster - she saw the man who had once fought to hold on to his soul. But love between two broken people is never easy. It's volatile. Cruel. A constant push and pull, neither of them willing to surrender, both too damaged to truly hold on. The closer they get, the more dangerous the stakes become. Yet, for all the ways they fought against it, they kept coming back to each other.Complete
...cry so I may laugh
In a time when inter relations were unheard of, a girl fell in love with a boy. Their story spans decades. What they endured for loving each other, the obstacles they had to face, because it wasn't legal to love outside your race. Nichole tells the story of her childhood. The abuse she endured, even violence that was inflicted upon her. The heart choses. That was her motto. She tells her tale in graphic detail. Zulu-land and all its splendour is brought to life. The young warrior who had saved her life, as a child, was her best friend. As time passed, that friendship evolved into something deeper. Something forbidden. Nevertheless, the heart choses. The chief that fell in love with a lady. He was a man with roots that dated back to King Shaka himself. Not time, nor threats of being imprisoned could stunt this love, these two people had for each other. Times was on their side, but not all the time. When freedom did come, they had no idea what to do with the concept. Their love was timeless. Inkosi and Nichole tell a dangerous love story, yet one as raw and beautiful as an African sunrise. Their story spans from Zulu-land to Port-Natal, and as far afield as England. Nichole had faced the worst and the best in people. It's a pity that the worst in people robbed her of her happily-ever-after. This book is published with the express permission from the author, Nikki Paiva AUTHOR'S NOTE Some of the events in this book are based on a true story. Names and places have been changed upon prior agreement between the writer and the narrator of this book.Complete
The Ballads of The Skeleton Crew
The boy had never been scourged by dread, not really, untouched still of startling agony to become his reality. He spotted the imposing cliffside meaning to change that by mere accident, kept in defiant remembrance still of this heavenly music descended upon Earth from Heaven, magnificent, majestic and entrancing, this blue ship which had came last night to conjure mystery and great brilliance vibrating with splendor and glory born, like summer sunshine brought unto gloomy night, unlike anything ever heard of. He paused in thought to look at what was dangling from these rocketed walls, instilled immediately by mortal agony. What encountered him there was awful, horrific, spun from his nightmare to turn to atrocious truth. They left a message for him, these strangers, a message for all mankind. All the people from the town were nailed on the colossal rock with obsidian spikes the size of fists, hidden in the darkness as horror always lurked there within. Blood, everywhere. The spikes ripped skin open, tore their bodies apart to let it be a grotesque image, the self-portrait of Death itself. Stiff pale limbs, grossly tangled together, a myriad of heads decorating empty space. A few mutilated legs and arms lay motionless on the bottom of it, of the mere terror, the waves had yet to reach and clean the crime scene, crimson rocks and red sand carnation furthermore. The details swam and blurred his view. He was thankful, for a glimpse sufficed a lifetime. When the dark ship came, it didn't only warn the people of the Destruction following behind, they carried it themselves, bestowing it willingly and with intent, purpose, unknown and arbitrary as it may seem regardless. People rumored among their crowds that they were in fact the cause, the real Bringer of Death. The Harbingers of Cruelty. The Black Squad, Side of Doom. Known perhaps better by their most famous name, the Skeleton Crew. _ completeComplete
It was like canvas tearing, and now I'm in your bloodstream, can you feel me smile? Papa hits Mama. Daddy doesn't care. Sing it with me. They all hate me, come on, sing it. Can you feel me yet?
More detailsContent Guidelines