Cerita Pendek & Novel Freak Face Slapping

Near the end of the year, my best friend, Bethany Greer, and I decide to buy matching gold-plated bangles from Temu for ten dollars just to keep up appearances. The moment we open the package, we both freeze in shock. The heavy weight in our hands and the dazzling shine of pure gold practically scream luxury and authenticity. My hands tremble as I quickly snap a photo and message the seller. I text, "There seems to be something wrong with this order." The seller replies instantly, sounding incredibly arrogant. "Why did you only say something is wrong only after you received it? What were you doing earlier?" I try to send photos as proof. "No, seriously, look at what I'm holding first. I ordered fake bangles..." The seller does not even look at the pictures and immediately sends a voice message in an incredibly rude tone. "I don't care what you order! Once the package is opened, there's no seven-day return policy! Even if it rots in your hands, that's your problem! Don't try making excuses to scam stuff for free. Once the packaging is opened, it belongs to you. Not even the Almighty can help you return it! "And if you dare spread nonsense, I'll report you for posting malicious reviews!" I stare thoughtfully at the gold bangle on my wrist that is worth thousands of dollars. Well, since he insists so strongly, I guess I'll reluctantly keep it. I just hope he doesn't regret it when he realizes the real bangle is missing!

After a century of war between humans and the Otherkin, both sides finally agree to a ceasefire. To preserve peace and coexistence, an intermarriage pact is established—every hundred years, humans and the Otherkin must marry. The first Otherkin to produce an Otherkin child will become the chairman of the Otherkin Alliance. In my last life, I married Kevin Walker, the famously devoted Alpha of the Whitefang pack. One year after our wedding, I gave birth to a wolf pup, and Kevin ascended smoothly to the chairman of the alliance. My sister, Meredith Singer—driven by vanity and a thirst for power—married Simon Lynch, the leader of the vampires. However, she didn't expect his chaotic private life, overflowing with mistresses, to leave her with a disease that robbed her of her ability to bear children. Bitter over her ruined life, Meredith blamed everything on me. She drugged both me and my pup before setting a fire that burned us alive. "Annabelle, everything you have should've been mine! I should be the one married to the Alpha! I should be the chairman's mate! You're nothing!" As the fire roared around us, I clutched my pup tightly in my arms. He sobbed against my chest. "Mom... it hurts..." I couldn't do anything but watch as the flames consumed us both. In the final moments of my life, I saw someone I never expected—the zombie king, Landon Zeller. Without hesitation, he charged into the inferno, cradling me and my pup in his arms, trying desperately to save us. However, it was too late. We'd already taken our last breaths.

The year my parents "divorced," I was twelve. My twin sister, Lily Reed, and I were split up between them. Lily left for California with our mother, Rachel Reed. I moved with our father, Grant Reed, into a moldy basement in Newark. Dad got hooked on gambling and buried himself in debt. Every day after school I washed dishes at a restaurant, and even my free school lunch had to be split into two meals. Six years later, Lily sent me a link out of nowhere. "Here's an eighteenth birthday present for you, sis." It was a paid livestreaming platform for the rich. The hottest stream on the homepage was called "Raised Poor vs. Raised Rich: Which Child Turns Out Better?" The screen was split in two. On the left, I sat in the leaky basement, doing homework by a broken desk lamp. On the right, my parents sat with their arms around Lily on the couch of a mansion in Alpine, cutting into a birthday cake. [The sister still has no idea, right? Her parents never divorced.] [The gambling debts and debt collectors are fake too. It's all for the show.] Lily looked into the camera and smiled sweetly. "See, sis?" "This is our real home."

On my wedding day, 12 confetti cannons go off as the bridal car pulls up to the venue. My fiancee, Giselle Warren, accepts the cash gift Dad offers her—but she refuses to step out of the car. Assuming the amount isn't enough, Dad quickly reaches into his suit jacket for another envelope, but Giselle shakes her head. "That won't be necessary." Then, with every guest watching in stunned silence, she pulls out a bag filled with electronic tracking monitors. They're numbered 1 through 63, each tag labeled with the name of a relative on my family's guest list. "Tell your family to put these on right now," she says coldly. "Otherwise, I'm not getting out of this car." Dad forces a nervous, accommodating smile. He doesn't know what the devices are—he just knows this is the most important day of my life. He reaches out to take the bag. My fists clench, and I step in front of him, blocking his hand. Giselle's face hardens. "Last month, when Shawn invited your family over for dinner, an expensive watch and 20,000 dollars in cash went missing from his room! "This is the most important day of my life. If your redneck relatives start swiping bottles of wine, hoarding party favors, and stealing from my guests today, I won't survive the embarrassment!" Shawn Warren is her foster brother. They aren't related by blood, but she defends him like family. Dad's face flushes a deep, painful red, but he still places a trembling hand on my shoulder. "Just let them wear them. Don't upset your bride on your wedding day. Your mom and I will explain it to the relatives. Don't let this delay the ceremony. "If they haven't done anything wrong, wearing them won't hurt." I watch Dad's shoulders slump in humiliation as he turns away. Without hesitation, I pull out my phone and dial the venue manager. "Cancel the reception. The wedding is off."

My younger brother, Anthony Chapman, the only family I had left, was suddenly diagnosed with cancer. Overnight, my modest salary became our only hope. I pushed myself to the brink of exhaustion, working overtime and taking on every extra assignment I could to earn enough bonuses and overtime pay to cover his treatment. But the universe seemed determined to make us suffer. One morning, just as I arrived at work, I received a notice that my brother was in critical condition. Below it was a string of voice messages from his girlfriend, Paige Fleming. Through helpless sobs, she told me they'd been through countless tests and had finally run out of money. My heart ached. I quickly reassured her and transferred the last 2,800 dollars in my bank account to her. Still consumed by worry, I took out another 14,000 dollars as a cash advance on my credit card. I urged her not to panic and to take good care of my brother, promising I'd find a way to cover the expenses somehow. I wanted to cry, but I couldn't afford to break down. I forced myself to regain my composure and returned to my desk. Just then, my best friend rushed over and thrust his phone toward me, a photo playing on the screen. "Clement, look at this! Isn't that your brother and his girlfriend? They're eating at some fancy restaurant!"

On my boyfriend, Draco Leroyce's birthday, I take him to a newly-opened fancy restaurant of my own for his birthday meal. Thinking that we'll be having a birthday cake for dessert later, Draco and I decide to order a set meal that includes a pizza and a plate of pasta. With a smile, I hand the menu over to the waitress. She plasters a fake smile on her face as she grabs the menu. But she secretly calls us "broke ass bastards" in Virellian. I draw my brows into a deep frown instantly. "What did you just say?" The waitress is momentarily stunned. Then, she shoots me another fake smile. "I said I'll prepare your food right away." I just sneer back at the waitress before responding to her in fluent Virellian, "You were calling us broke ass bastards."

"You are a sick, twisted monster." My mother glared at me. The doctor frowned and recommended genetic testing, suspecting a rare disease. My mother only sneered. "Rare disease? She's mentally warped. She fakes being sick to get attention!" The noon sun blazed overhead. I huddled under the shade canopy, trembling violently, clutching my collar shut. Then my mother shoved the canopy aside and overturned it. She tore off my long coat and pushed me down onto the scorching sand. The intense UV rays seared through my skin in an instant. Huge blisters swelled up along my arms, then burst one after another. My mother stood there, revulsion all over her face. "Iris, have you no shame left at all, faking an illness like this? "You love lying down so much, then lie there in the sun until you die!" Mom, this time I really am going to burn to death.

“Hudson, lend me your car for today,” my driver asked over a call as I was busy working in the office. I sat stunned for a few seconds, then said, "Uncle Wagner, have I said yes before you started using my car? Also, the client I’m meeting today is very important. Go to the airport right now to pick him up.” “I have something urgent to attend to and need the car. I’ve just transferred 20 dollars to your client. Isn’t it the same getting him to take a taxi to the hotel?” When I read my driver’s text, anger rose in my chest. He had been working for me for three months. He was great at the start, and I respectfully addressed him as Uncle Wagner on account of him being similar in age as my dad. Did he really think that made him my uncle?

My five-year-old daughter loved telling lies. I had taken her out to a simple school supplies run, but she yelled on the street that I was a human trafficker. Consequently, I nearly got arrested and taken to the police station. When we went home, she cried and threw herself in my husband’s arms to complain about me before I could say anything. “Dad, Mom wouldn’t buy me stationeries. She even hit me on the street!” I offered my husband an explanation. He heard me out, but I did not expect him to angrily slap me when I was finished. “Our daughter is only five. She can’t lie. Can’t you just put up with it?!” When I drove my daughter to school, she got down on her knees in front of me while the other parents were around. “Mom, please let me go to school. I don’t want to take naked photos for those guys.” When the teacher checked my phone, it was full of my daughter’s explicit photos. A mob of angry parents pushed me into the traffic, killing me. I could not figure out why my biological daughter would behave that way, even as I lay dying. When I opened my eyes again, I had returned to the day when I was about to buy stationery for my daughter.

As I stepped out of my older brother's newly opened supermarket, the alarm suddenly rang. The sales assistant grimly reached out and grabbed me, "Miss, you haven't paid yet." I remembered that my buttons were made of metal, which triggered the alarm. After patiently explaining and easing the atmosphere, I said, "The owner of this supermarket is my older brother. He'll pay the bill." The sales assistant scoffed. "Your brother's the boss? Why not say he's your husband instead? You stole and refused to admit it. Pay up or I'll call the police immediately," she said and crumpled the receipt into a ball before throwing it at my face. I endured the humiliation and unfolded it. A baby pacifier for 100,000 dollars. Two packs of baby wet wipes for 200,000 dollars. Security personnel's hush fee, 300,000 dollars. All of the miscellaneous expenses added up to exactly one million dollars. I laughed in anger. "One million dollars? Why don't you just rob a bank? Go and get Chad Surrey. I want to see how I ended up with such a heartless brother." She rolled her eyes. "Don't pretend if you can't afford it, thief. Is Mr. Surrey someone you can see whenever you want?" When my parents came to help me, I said, "Only one of us exists in this family. It's either me or her."

Sawyer Lund is my brother, and I've been his wingman since we were kids. Growing up, my absolute favorite thing to do was serving him—bringing him his drinks, getting his food, even lighting his cigarettes. I do it happily and never complain. When Sawyer gets accepted into Javon University, I waste no time skipping grades and following him there. On the first day of the semester, Sawyer walks into our dorm room with eight bodyguards. Our roommates greet him enthusiastically while I busy myself cleaning up his desk. Harvey Warren is the only roommate who mocks me pointedly for it. "You're not Sawyer's roommate," he says. "You're clearly his lackey." I just smile and stay silent. One day, Sawyer carelessly tosses his newly purchased Patek Philippe to me and says, "The colorway suits your style better. You should wear it instead." Harvey happens to walk past the door just as I accept the watch with a smile. Over the weekend, with Sawyer away on a business trip abroad, Harvey and I are the only ones left in the dorm. "Do you know what everyone in class calls you behind your back, Felix?" he says. "Sawyer's lapdog." The next day, Ruby Sutton, the campus belle who happens to be my girlfriend, tells me to meet her out on the field. She furrows her brow deeply the moment she sees me. "Do you have to be this pathetic, Felix? How could you throw away your dignity and become someone's lapdog just for a watch? Harvey's family isn't well-off, but even he lives with more dignity than you do." She pauses, then delivers another crushing blow. "Harvey takes the top spot in our major yet again in this term's finals. What do you have to show for yourself? You spend all your time acting as a glorified goon while your grades sit at rock bottom. Do you not feel ashamed, Felix?" Harvey tugs gently at her sleeve and lowers his head. "Please stop arguing with him, Ruby. You know how much I dislike this kind of thing." Ruby's expression immediately softens. I watch her rub his shoulder and smirk. Has nobody noticed that Sawyer and I have the same last name—Lund?

Quentin Quandt—Shane Fuchner's uncle—killed himself. After he died, someone found a drawer stuffed with unsent love letters. Every single one had my name on it. So when life hit rewind and Mom asked if I wanted to marry Shane, my childhood friend, I said no. I picked Quentin. Here's the thing—I got reborn. Last time, I chose Shane. Huge mistake. He was hardly ever home after we got married. And when I started bleeding from a miscarriage, he ditched me because Ceryn Schuck—his first love—texted, [The power's out and I'm scared.] He didn't even hesitate. I died that night. So did the baby. And Shane? He didn't cry. Just whined that my death ruined his vacation plans with her. Then I woke up—right back at the moment Mom asked who I wanted to marry...

Dominic Langdon, a gang boss, is about to host his birthday banquet soon. He specifically tells everyone that he wants bluefin tuna and premium abalone as the grandest dish in his banquet. That seafood comes to a total of 80 thousand dollars. But my uncle, Steve Cutterson, gives me 800 dollars and tells me to carry out the task. I head toward the garbage dump of the farmers' market immediately. Soon, I return with a cartload of canned sardines and crayfish. After calculating the transportation costs, it comes to a total of 800 dollars. When the cheap-looking seafood is served, Dominic is so pissed that he flips the table on the spot. "How dare you pocket my money! You must have a death wish!" Steve quickly makes me the scapegoat. "Mr. Langdon, Caleb is the one who bought the seafood! He must have embezzled your money! Caleb, you'd better grovel to Mr. Langdon and pay him back right now!" I just show everyone the magnified version of the transfer record of 800 dollars with a stony expression. "Take a good look, Uncle Steve. Do you really think you can afford bluefin tuna with just 800 dollars? Did Mr. Langdon give you the money purely out of charity purposes?"

The day before the college entrance exam, the class belle everyone adored stepped onto the podium. "I wasn't going to tell anyone, but I couldn't bear to let you all miss this opportunity. There's a hidden rule in this year's college entrance exam system. If you soak your answer sheet, it'll be transferred for a special manual review by top universities." I froze, staring at her for a long while before finally blinking dumbly. In my previous life, those exact words had been enough to make someone as dull as me lose my composure for the first time in my life. I ran to get the teacher and stopped the entire class from soaking their answer sheets. In the end, the class belle failed the exam and broke down in tears in the class group chat. "If Ondine hadn't brought the teacher to keep an eye on us, maybe all of us would've had a chance." Later, one of her admirers cornered me on the school's rooftop and forced me to grovel and apologize to her. Unfortunately, I fell from the building during the struggle to defend myself. When I opened my eyes again, I was transported right back to the moment she was teaching the class how to "activate" their answer sheets. This time, I lowered my head as my lips curled into a slow smile. "Sounds good. Just make sure you soak them thoroughly. We don't want the system to scan them now, do we?"

Just before the college entrance exam, I accidentally overheard my cousin's inner thoughts and discovered that she'd bound herself to a system that stole the rewards of my hard work. The harder I studied, the higher her scores soared. "Ella, all your hard work is worthless compared to my natural talent!" Little did she know that I had a system of my own, one that could shut hers down on the day of the exam.

On the day of our engagement, my Alpha mate Kane mistakenly thought that my mom had seduced his dad and almost killed his mom. He canceled our ceremony and forced me, who was eight months pregnant, to jump into the silver pit. Kane hated me for three years, and threatened me with my child to be the most humble slave in his pack, watching him and other women make love. "Aria, you destroyed my family! I will never let you go in this life!" Finally, I accepted my fate and stopped resisting, letting the guards throw me into the silver pit. However, when Kane found out that those things had nothing to do with me, he went completely crazy looking at the pool of blood in the silver pit.

At the express train station entrance, I was stopped by a security guard. He asked, “What is in the container?” I said, “It is a living heart. It needs to be transplanted in two hours.” I handed over the urgent medical pass. After the security guard checked the document and prepared to let me through, a hand reached from behind and grabbed the container. A voice shouted, “Do not let her go! The container contains prohibited items!” I turned and saw my sister‑in‑law, Ariana Cole. She pointed at me and shouted, “Sir, I am reporting her! She is my sister‑in‑law. What is in the container is not a cure for illness. It is drugs she bought from the black market. She plans to transport them and sell them by using her doctor identity!” Armed police surrounded us with their guns drawn. My eyes were bloodshot from anxiety. “Ariana, have you lost your mind? There is a donor heart inside! The recipient only has two hours to live!” Ariana rolled her eyes and sneered. “Why are you pretending? My brother said you have acted mysteriously lately. You are definitely up to no good. If you have nothing to hide, why not open it and show us?” The place fell silent. The SWAT officer leading the group spoke in a cold voice. He said, “Please cooperate with the inspection. Open the container immediately.” I looked at my countdown watch as cold sweat soaked my back. If the heart became contaminated, Arthur Quinn, the national hero who depended on it, would not survive.

A torrential downpour hits the city, but our boss, Emmett Price, forces all employees to stay at the company to work overtime. He even deducts 100 dollars per person per day from our wages for utilities. Discontent fills the office. My team members come to me with a petition and plead with me, as their team leader, to sign it, telling me everyone will feel emboldened if I take the lead. I'm about to leave on a business trip, and I could've stayed out of it, but I can't bring myself to watch everyone get exploited. So, I readily sign my name. However, when Mr. Price calls me into his office, I realize with a start that my name's the only one left on the petition. He publicly berates me for instigating a revolt and fires me on the spot. Meanwhile, my teammates who throw me under the bus instantly swarm Mr. Price to suck up to him and effortlessly get out of the mandatory overtime. Even the project I've spent half a year securing gets divided among them. After losing my job, I search everywhere for another one. However, I accidentally come into contact with a live wire on the street and die on the spot from electrocution. When I open my eyes again, I'm back on the day Mr. Price announces the mandatory stay-at-work notice. My team members walk up to me with the petition once again, but I simply shake my head. "I'm sorry, but I'm busy right now."

After earning my architect license, I posted a celebratory update on social media. When I got home that evening, I found my uncle, Cameron Mitchell, and my cousin, Parker Mitchell, waiting for me. I hadn't heard from them in ages. "Adrian, I heard you're working for a major construction firm now," Cameron said, puffing away on his cigarette. "Well, Parker's getting married and needs a new house built. Draw up the blueprints tonight so construction can start tomorrow. "You're in the business, so you might as well handle the site supervision and material procurement, too. Take care of everything!" I'd barely sat down before he dumped a huge responsibility on my shoulders. "Uncle Cam, I specialize in industrial architecture. That's completely different from building a private home in the countryside." At that, Cameron's face immediately fell. "What's the difference? Isn't it all just laying bricks and stacking walls? "Did all those years of education go straight down the drain? Can't you even handle a simple country house? I think you've gotten yourself an important position and forgotten what family means." Out of consideration for our family ties, I agreed to his request. But after I finished building the house, why did he come crying and begging me to tear it down as soon as possible?

After getting trapped in a malfunctioning elevator with two classmates, my classmate Sheldon couldn't resist running his mouth. He pressed the emergency call button and said, "Sir, you fell for it! We were just pressing it for fun!" "Brats!" The security guard cursed and slammed the phone down. Harvey and I wanted to beat Sheldon up on the spot. Sheldon, however, looked completely unconcerned. "Just press it again." When the call connected again, Sheldon grabbed the chance to speak first. "Hahaha! Sir, it's us again! Why do you keep falling for it?" The security guard lost his temper. "You bunch of kids–" I quickly cut him off. "Sir, don't hang up! The elevator really is malfunctioning! We're trapped inside!" Sheldon, however, clicked his tongue and sighed. "Jason, you're even better at acting than I am." The call disconnected again. Harvey and I were so furious our jaws were clenched tight. Meanwhile, the temperature inside the enclosed elevator kept rising. Harvey's asthma suddenly flared up, but he had left his inhaler behind. I could only dial the number again like a madman before desperately trying to explain. "Sir, my classmate is having an asthma attack! He's barely breathing! Please, you have to believe me this time!" The security guard replied coldly, "Are you kids ever going to stop? I've encountered plenty of pranks like this. Don't abuse public resources and interfere with me doing my job!" The call was hung up again. I watched as Harvey's face turned blue, and his breathing grew weaker and weaker. I completely panicked.