Mga Maiikling Kuwento at Nobela After Death

On my birthday, Connor Simpson's first love jumped off a building due to depression. She died on the spot. Connor blamed everything on me. I never celebrated my birthday again after she died. After the murderer electrocuted me for more than ten hours, they forced me to call Connor. "Connor, it's my 25th birthday today. Can you come over and spend time with me?" However, Connor did not notice anything unusual. His voice was laced with venomous iciness. "Clarisse Winter, Audrey wouldn't have died if it weren't for you. How dare you ask me to celebrate your birthday? If only you were the one who died." I heard him coaxing a woman on the other end just before he hung up on me. That low and gentle tone was what I loved to hear the most in the past. That night, the murderer cut my body into countless pieces, packed them in bags, and threw them in front of the police station. Connor was summoned back overnight. He spent two days and two nights piecing together the body parts, but he did not realize that the dead person was the wife that he hated the most.

My sister, Vivian Richmond, is celebrating her birthday with the rest of the family while I lie trapped in an abandoned factory, bleeding heavily. She's hired four thugs to torture me, and they've left me fighting for my life. I crawl toward my phone with what little strength I have left. When I finally reach it, I call my husband, Ethan Monroe. "Ethan, I'm seriously injured. Come save me now… I'm at the factory nearby. It won't take much of your time…" He scoffs at my weak, desperate voice. "Sienna, whining won't get you anywhere. Are you playing the victim now?" he says. "You'll stop at nothing to ruin Vivian's birthday party, huh? Hurry back with a gift and apologize to her, or I won't go easy on you this time." Before I can speak, I hear Vivian calling his name over the line. Ethan has no idea that the moment the call ends, I no longer need his forgiveness. He doesn't know that the foul, rotting corpse that makes even an experienced forensic pathologist like him recoil in disgust belongs to the wife he's hated for years.

My father's adopted daughter was only locked in the cramped storage closet for around fifteen minutes, yet he punished me by tying me up and throwing me inside. He even sealed off the ventilation with towels. "As Wendy's older sister, if you can't take care of her, then you should also experience how scared she was," he declared coldly. He knew I was claustrophobic, but my desperate pleas for mercy, my terror, were met with nothing but heartless reprimands. "Let this be a lesson on how to be a good sister." As the last sliver of light disappeared, swallowed by the oppressive darkness, I struggled helplessly. A week passed before my father finally remembered my existence and decided it was time to end my punishment. "Let's hope this week served as a good lesson for you, Jennifer. If this happens again, you will no longer be allowed in this house." He would never know that I had already taken my last breath in that suffocating room. My body had begun to rot in the darkness.

It had been three years since my ex-girlfriend and I broke up, and each of us was keeping a secret from the other. She never told me that she had ended things to atone for something she'd done to someone else. And I never told her that when I agreed to the breakup and said I didn't love her anymore, I had my own reasons. Then we ran into each other again at our university alumni reunion. She was a respected professor and scholar now. She stood in the crowd with her arm around her fiancé, smiling as people congratulated them on their upcoming wedding. When she saw me, her smile deepened. "Dominic, aren't you going to congratulate me?" The word "congratulations" lodged in my tongue like a pair of thorns, and for a long time I couldn't get it out. The person standing beside her should have been me. In the end, I gave her what she wanted and said the words. Because I only had three days left to live.

The impoverished student I had sponsored, Jacob Murphy, had accumulated a massive gambling debt. When the debt collectors had kicked the door open, my childhood sweetheart, Renee Austin, had shoved me forward instead. Her voice was cold and distant. “He’s Jacob Murphy. Take him away.” In the darkness of an underground casino, they tore out my fingernails, then smashed my ribs one by one with an iron rod. When the searing pain arrived, I groveled on the floor like a dog. I was weeping and screaming, without a shred of dignity. Then, they “mercifully” gave me one chance to call for help. Clinging to the last sliver of hope, I called Renee. Her voice on the other end sounded very cruel. “If you hadn’t set him up, how would Jacob have ended up buried in gambling debt? Even if you die at their hands, you deserve it.” The dial tone after she hung up became the last sound in my world. Later, I really did die, just as she had said. However, there was not the slightest trace of a smile on Renee’s face. It was as if she had gone mad. Her eyes were bloodshot as she searched every underground gambling den in the city. ‘Renee, why were you crying for me?’ I wondered.

My brother and I get into a car accident. My heart is ruptured—I need emergency surgery. But my mother, the hospital director, calls every available doctor… to my brother's room. He only has a few scrapes, yet she orders a full-body scan for him while I lie there bleeding out. I beg her to help me, but she snaps, visibly annoyed, "Can't you stop fighting for attention for once? Your brother almost injured a bone!" In the end, I die on the operating table. But after the news of my death breaks, my mother, who has always hated me, completely loses her mind.

The day I decided to file for divorce, Dean Potter couldn’t wait to draft the divorce agreement. Five years ago, he had been forced to marry me, and now he was finally free. On the day we were finalizing the divorce, Dean arrived with his new flame, radiating delight mixed with a hint of mockery. “Veronica Byrd, look at you—you’re miserable.” I watched his figure fade into the distance, my vision blurring. Miserable? In the next life, it wouldn't happen again.

After being bullied to death at school, I was reborn as a newborn baby. And then I realized my mother was the same person who had tormented me. Now she was whispering to me sweetly, “Oh, my precious baby.” Precious baby? I immediately started thrashing in her arms, trying to jab my tiny fingers into her eyes. From this day forward, this ‘precious baby’ would be out for revenge!

On the day we finalized our college applications, I chose Cromwell University. The moment my brother saw it, his expression turned icy. Before I even understood what was happening, everything went black. When I woke up, I was trapped inside a glass box. All because our cousin Wendy had failed to get into Cromwell. To make it up to her, he ordered his men to carry me to an underground auction, putting me on display for a hundred strangers to gawk at for entertainment. I pounded on the glass, crying and begging for someone, anyone, to let me out. No one came. Men gathered around, their gazes shameless and invasive, murmuring to each other as if I were an object, something to be assessed and priced. My brother stood among them, watching. Then he smiled. "You brought this on yourself," he said lightly. "You had everything, our parents' support and my protection, and still you went after Wendy. You even had someone threaten her. "Because of you, she missed her exams. Because of you, she lost Cromwell." He took a step closer, his voice turning colder. "Your life's been too easy. It's time you learned what it feels like to be humiliated." I sank to the floor of the glass box, my body trembling, my mind going blank. While I was being reduced to nothing, he booked an entire resort in Wendy's honor, hosting a grand celebration for her acceptance to Halvard University. Later, when our parents called and asked him to bring me along, his assistant interrupted with a message. "Mr. Lawson… the police have confirmed Miss Kelly's death."

Four years after my death, the true heiress won the Best Actress award, but her sex tape was once again spread like wildfire. My Best Actor boyfriend, Nicholas Jennings, kicked open the rented house where I used to live, hoping to make me clarify once again that it was me in the video, but all he saw was a complete mess. The landlord happened to pass by and, upon his inquiry, scolded him, "You’re talking about Astrid Rhode? She died four years ago! A man saw the sex tape posted online and came here to have some fun with her, but she would rather die than comply. In a fit of rage, he killed her." Nicholas did not believe it at all. He kicked our couple's mugs. "Astrid made you say that, didn't she? She stole Maddie's life just because she looked like her. Did she think that helping Maddie once would atone for her sins? Tell her that none of the children in her orphanage will live if I don't see her clarification video in two days!" He strode away, and I shook my head with a wry smile. The orphanage had long since been reduced to ashes in the fire, and the children had already passed on to their next lives. I had made a deal with Death, wanting to come back and see him one last time. However, now, it seemed that the deal was better left undone.

An earthquake struck suddenly during our honeymoon. I suggested that we flee immediately. My husband’s former lover mocked me for being cowardly and paranoid. So, my husband dismissed my fears. I had no choice but to continue sightseeing with them. A fractured steel frame crashed down with an earsplitting clang and smashed into his former lover. She clung to me desperately as the rebars drove into my ribs one by one. Before I could cry out, my husband kicked me down when he saw his former lover in danger. “You wretch! If you hadn’t suggested this honeymoon spot, Lena wouldn’t have gotten hurt! “You knew there’d be an earthquake today. You did this on purpose!” The rebars pierced deeper into my ribs and made every breath I took excruciatingly painful. My husband pushed me aside, lifted his former lover into his arms, and stormed off without glancing back. “Before the aftershock hits, I’m taking Lena to the hospital! Then, I’ll call for rescue. “Stay here and reflect on your actions. This is your punishment for scheming against Lena!” I waited all night. He did not know that the torrential rains of the monsoon season had flooded the area. What awaited him was the bloated corpse of a pregnant woman.

When I was having a heart attack, my parents, my brother, and my fiancé were all at our family casino—celebrating Eva, our adopted daughter, at her twenty-first birthday, her official debut into the mafia world. The doctor refused to operate without a legal guardian’s signature. So I called them. My father’s assistant answered. “Sorry, Miss. The Don is in the middle of a toast.” My brother and mother let it ring until it went silent. Finally, my fiancé, Adam, picked up. Music roared behind him. I could hear laughter, glasses clinking. “Cecilia,” he said, impatient. “If you can’t even show up for Eva’s party, stop causing trouble. Today is Eva’s debut. Every Don from three territories is here. Whatever drama you’re playing can wait.” I lost count of how many times they chose her over me. So after this call, I stopped calling. I signed my own name. My family thought I’d finally learned to be obedient. But they should’ve known that in our world, silence only means one thing—I was preparing to disappear for good.

We have an old rule in our town. Any family with twins must choose one to make an example out of. That is the way to discipline one’s children and ensure they grow up well. Born four minutes before my brother, I became that example. When my brother snuck out to swim in the river, Mom didn’t scold him. Instead, she pressed my head into the river again and again. She finally stopped when my brother cried, yelling that he would never go to the river again. When my brother forgot to switch on the rice cooker, Mom came back home from work only to realize that the rice was still uncooked in the pot. She then served me two bowls of uncooked rice. “Finish them and don’t leave a single grain behind.” Chewing on the hard rice filled my mouth with blood. She stared at my brother throughout the entire ordeal. When he finally cried, she took the bowls away. I was made an example for 16 years. Until that day when our town received a red alert for an incoming hurricane. Everyone had to evacuate overnight. My brother only came back at dawn after playing a fool with his friends the entire night. He was completely drenched when he came back, smiling gleefully. Mom stuffed him into an evacuation vehicle before turning to look at me, saying very calmly, “Stay here. After the hurricane, your brother will learn his lesson and come home earlier.” Everyone in town left. Roof tiles started flying in the wind. Mom, you like to make an example out of me. This time, I'll die because of that. Are you happy now?

On the third day after my death, my body was sent to the police station in different packages. Jonathan Walsh, my husband, and Frank Stone, my junior at work, saw my corpse and frowned. “If only Elena were here, she would have been able to find some clues.” Frank sighed as he stared at my horribly mangled remains. “Don’t mention her. She’s not even worthy of being a forensic scientist!” I stared at my husband with a conflicted look. He analyzed each part of my body and deduced the manner of my death with familiar ease. “The murderer is a monster…” Frank’s face turned pale, and he sighed again. Jonathan calmly used all that I had taught him and perfectly pieced out the entire process of my death based on the clues from my dismembered body. I could not help but feel proud. Unfortunately, he was still a little off the mark. He did not manage to figure out that this body belonged to me, his wife.

Everyone in my family knew I was a Bond-Seeker with ninety-nine lives. And still, not one of them loved me. During the holiday, I woke up early making breakfast for my family. My mother threw it all angrily. “You filthy little curse. Don’t dirty my kitchen.” When my father was hospitalized after a car accident, I stayed by his bed for three days and three nights. The moment he woke up, he grabbed the IV bottle beside him and smashed it against my head. “Was killing your twin sister not enough for you? Now you want me dead too?” I used my scholarship money to buy my elder brother a brand-new laptop. He threw it straight off the balcony and watched it shatter on the ground below. “I’m not using anything bought with a cursed girl’s money. I don’t want it shortening my life.” On my eighteenth birthday, I handed a love letter to Ethan Whitmore, the boy next door I had secretly loved for years. He tore it to pieces right in front of me. “What, were you hoping to trade my feelings for points? Get lost, Natalie. I don’t want you getting me killed.” In the end, the System ruled that my bond had failed. Then it took my life back. I thought no one would grieve for me. But before it disappeared, the System spent the last of its energy broadcasting every memory I had across every major platform.

The day my husband's first love, who was my sister, died, he sent me into the wilderness, all because I was not a match for the kidney transplant she needed. "Make sure Lisa can’t leave. For pretending to be Emma’s little sister, it’s time she learns her lesson," he ordered. I was abandoned in the dense forest, trapped, and left to fend for myself. Desperate, I sought shelter in a cave, trying to survive. However, wild animals soon picked up my scent and surrounded the cave. In the end, they tore me apart, and I died a brutal, painful death, with my body left exposed and torn in the wilderness. When Benjamin finally saw what was left of me, he lost his mind.

Savannah Cox was my husband's first love. When she got divorced, my husband, Alex Stewart, was the lawyer who handled her case. Then he moved her into our home after getting rid of Mochi, my cat, because she was allergic to cats. Because she lost a necklace, he forced a pregnant me to jump into an icy pool to retrieve it. By the time I lost our baby and ended up in the hospital, Alex was posting Savannah's prenatal checkup report—the first post he'd made all year. "The cherry blossoms are blooming at Cherrywood Park. She arrived with spring." I quietly liked the post, feeling unwell and numb with grief as I spent the day in silence. Alex only looked at me with disgust, a cruel sneer creeping onto his lips. "Autumn, people like you deserve to lose their children. If you love kids so much, why don't you go die with the baby?" What he didn't know was that I was already dying.

After my divorce, I went to the southwest mountainous regions to volunteer for rescue work, where two years passed in the blink of an eye. One day, our daughter gets diagnosed with aplastic anemia, and her life can only be sustained through a bone marrow transplant from me. It's only then that my ex-wife thinks of me. She heads to the mountains with a group of bodyguards and searches everywhere, but she can't find a trace of me. She thinks I have deliberately hidden myself from her. "As long as you're willing to donate the bone marrow, I'll promise you visitation rights to see our daughter in the future." However, the townspeople tell her that I have long since passed away. She frowns slightly, her expression full of impatience as she says, "I never thought that, after all these years, he would still play these childish games." In the end, she searches high and low, only to unearth my bones.

I suffer from a rare lung disease and depend on a ventilator to stay alive. My dad, Wesley Lowe, works three jobs and saves up enough money to replace my old machine with an imported one. The new ventilator is already relatively very quiet. Even so, my mom, Keira Sheeran, still thinks it's too noisy. She says the sound keeps waking her up at night and reminds her that I am like a bottomless pit. One day, my newborn baby brother, Jasper Lowe, won't stop crying. The doctor says newborns are sensitive to noise. Mom immediately breaks down. Her eyes are red with tears as she rushes over, points at me, and screams, "Can't you just die already? Your cousin can't afford to get married because of the burden you put on our family, and now your little brother can't even get a good night's sleep! "Can't you turn it off for just one night so the whole family can finally have some peace and quiet?" After saying that, she takes Jasper and goes back to her parents' house. I look at the "Happy Family" cross-stitch embroidery hanging on the wall. Slowly, I unplug the ventilator. "Mom, Dad, it's quiet now."

The night before our engagement, my fiancée, Yvonne Gomez, died. The police said her car had crashed through a guardrail and plunged into the river. All they found was a bloodstained watch. The entire Gomez family blamed me. "If she hadn't gone out to buy you a wedding ring, none of this would've happened!" "You're a living curse! Wasn't getting your parents killed enough? Now, you've killed your fiancée too!" Ernie Young, a junior she had gone to school with, played her final voice message as he cried. "Don't die for me. Go live a good life." I held her watch and kept vigil at the funeral home for three days. On the fourth morning, I put on the white suit she liked best and went to the river alone. Then, I downed a bottle of poison. "Yvonne, I'm coming to marry you." I had just climbed over the guardrail when cheers erupted under the bridge. Ernie ran up to me, clapping and laughing so hard that tears rolled down his face. "I won! I knew he would come! Yvonne, he fell for it! He was really going to jump into the river to keep you company!" The crowd parted, and Yvonne stepped out holding a bouquet of roses. Her white dress was spotless, and it hurt to even look at her. She turned to Ernie first, her voice indulgent. "Happy now? No more games after this." Ernie put an arm around her shoulders and asked smugly, "Don't I get some credit for testing how much he loves you?" "Of course." She smiled and nodded. "You liked the wedding ring I picked out, didn't you? You can borrow it for a week." Only then did she hand me the roses. "Surprised? Ernie was just upset. He felt like you were taking me away from him, so I went along with it this one time. You don't mind, do you? You've proved you love me. Now, we can go back and get married." I finally understood everything. The accident was fake. So was the recording. It was all a prank Ernie had come up with to appease himself. And Yvonne had personally allowed him to put my life on the game board as a bet. I shook my head as a sharp pain shot through my stomach. "It's fine… There's no going back…"