Plot Twists Short Stories & Hypocrisy Crime Novels

I live alone. At eleven o'clock on a rainy night, an unexpected call came through. The voice on the other end said my car window was left open and urged me to go downstairs. Cautious as a woman should be, I didn't act rashly. Instead, I called the property security office, only to discover that even the security was fake. It hit me suddenly—I was ensnared in a vast conspiracy. Someone was orchestrating all of this. But for what purpose?

Brody Lewis, my fiance, said that I had a rare form of transient global amnesia, which was a sudden, temporary memory loss. Every seven days, I would open my eyes and become the twenty-five-year-old Riley Taylor again. My memories were forever stuck in the past. In my pen drive were videos of Brody taking me on trips, bringing me for treatment, and proposing to me. Everything seemed great between us, but I remembered none of it. “Riley’s still around. Can’t you keep your hands to yourself?” “Don’t worry. It’s Monday tomorrow. After she wakes up, she’ll remember none of it,” Brody said, and my heart sank. “Isn’t this more exciting?” Brody embraced my best friend, and they made out brazenly in front of me. They were not shy about it at all. I wondered just how many times this had happened over the past two years. I ran as tears blurred my vision. When I arrived at a tattoo shop, I grabbed the tattoo artist like a drowning man holding on to a log. Then, I asked the tattoo artist to tattoo these words on my arm in my handwriting. [Leave him.]

As my murderer's claws tear into my abdomen inch by inch, my father and brother are seated in our family's banquet hall. They're celebrating Carly's 18th birthday and coming-of-age. "You'll always be my little girl." "Happy birthday, Carly." They light 18 pink candles for her. On top of the exquisite red velvet cake is a wolf figurine that they carved for her, and there are well wishes and laughter all around. Meanwhile, I'm curled up in a sewer filled with liquid silver as I bleed to death. My phone has been crushed, and I can't get out. I can only cry for help. A few days later, my father and brother show up together at the autopsy room. My brother stands by the operating table with a scalpel. He slices open the body and sews it back up like it's nothing. My father just covers his nose as he shoots a disgusted glance at my body. He urges my brother to hurry up with the autopsy report. "The victim is a young female wolf presumed to be of pure lineage. Before her death, she was subjected to prolonged captivity and torture. Her throat is nearly severed, her cervical spine is dislocated, and her chest cavity has collapsed. She was also injected with liquid silver before death." Hearing the report, my father looks so calm that it's just like a case study of no consequence. Neither of them can recognize that the body belongs to me—their daughter and sister!

My first time meeting Lawrence Seinfield was during my return to a noble family as its heiress. He helped me get out of a sticky situation once, and for that, I spent five years trying to steal his heart. I loved him. Eventually, he became my fiance, but he thought I was beneath him. He thought my lack of education and proper upbringing was bad. My grandfather, the one who raised me, was dying. Just when I needed his help the most, he decided to teach me a lesson and show me my place. Without any help, my grandfather died, and like Lawrence wished, I knew my place. And I lost my love for him.

During the pack's wilderness training, my adopted sister, Tessa, shoved me from a cliffside thick with wolfsbane. My Alpha, Fenrir, turned and left with Tessa feigning injury in his arms, leaving me for dead at the bottom of the ravine. I died instantly, but my soul lingered, watching everything with cold detachment. I watched as Tessa's tearful complaints swayed him into blaming me for my own disappearance. "Will Selene ever stop causing me trouble?" "She's weak and always looking for trouble. How could she possibly be fit to be our Luna?" He had no idea I was already dead at the bottom of that cliff choked with wolfsbane. Five whole days. The poison hit my bloodstream like liquid fire, racing through my veins with merciless speed. As my body decayed under the moonlight, my love for him faded with it. The title of Luna, the magnificent coronation I had dreamed of, everything I once cherished was now meaningless. The Selene who loved him was well and truly dead.

It was the night before my best mate’s wedding—his bachelor party, we made a deal to get blind drunk, but I arrived late. When I opened the door, I was not met with cheers, but with three corpses stalled in motion. My body went limp as my mind went blank. The only thought left in my head was that I had to call the police. “I’m calling from Block 3, Unit 301 of Silkwood Gardens. My three friends are all dead!” On the other end of the line, a female police officer responded calmly, “Please stay calm and don’t touch anything. Keep the crime scene untouched. A team will arrive shortly.” This should have been a night of wild debauchery, but I was the only one left alive. I slowly ducked my head and smiled.

My daughter, Heather Miller, comes home in an injured state from her high school one day. Apparently, someone has been spreading rumors about her cheating in her exams, stealing from others, and even shamelessly serving as an old geezer's mistress! I spend a fortune hiring a hacker in order to locate the source of those rumors. To my horror, my best friend, Sylvia Lister, is actually the one behind this scheme! Just as I'm about to confront her angrily, I suddenly see rows of comments occupying my vision. "The male lead's mom really is smart! She taught him how to come up with rumors just to slander the female lead! Now that no one wants to approach her, he can have her all to himself!" "The mother-and-son pair really are sneaky… and I like it! The female lead is really blessed to have them in her life!" "If my guess is correct, the female lead will get expelled from the school next week. She'll get locked up by the male lead and his mom in their home, which is the start of her amazing bedroom life!"

There's a saying that circulates among anglers: "If a dead fish still takes the bait… reel in and leave." The day I went fishing with my dad, we ran into exactly that. What unsettled me was not the fish. It was the look on my dad's face: an excitement that felt completely wrong. Then a message flashed across my livestream, and a chill ran down my spine. [Get out. Now. Your dad is about to trade your life for the one who died in this river a year ago.]

Three years after I had made my girlfriend, Sophia Lambert, sleep with her superior, she finally went from being his lover to becoming his wife. Meanwhile, I barely made it out alive after years of being undercover in a drug trafficking ring. My body was broken beyond repair, and I had returned home only to wait for death. Sophia arrived with one of her arms wrapped around her husband’s during a charity visit for the poor. When she saw me standing in line for relief aid, she let out a mocking laugh. “Benjamin, how did you end up like this?” I hunched my shoulders. I hid the First-Class Merit Medal for Narcotics Enforcement I had received not long ago. After a long silence, I asked, “Are you happy now?” She twirled the diamond ring on her finger in a lackadaisical manner. “The wedding’s next week. What do you think? “If you want, you can even become a groomsman. Orlando believes in diversity. His groomsmen comprises of different kinds of guys. He’s just missing someone disabled.” I shook my head and turned down her offer. “No, I won’t be able to make it.” The poison in my body had already spread to my heart. I only had a few days left.

I was a top ER nurse at the city hospital. Over the years, I helped save thousands of lives. During my day off, I received an urgent call from my department chief. “Zayn, there’s a child at a daycare near your neighborhood suffering from a severe allergic reaction. The ambulance is stuck in traffic. Please get over there immediately and administer first aid.” I grabbed my emergency kit and rushed to the daycare. When I arrived, one of the teachers falsely accused me of being a child trafficker. He shoved me aside and shouted, “He’s a trafficker. Do not let him touch the child.” Furious and desperate, I pulled up my digital nursing license. “I am an ER nurse. If you keep stopping me, this child could die.” He insisted my credentials were fake, and I had no choice but to wait for the ambulance. When the ambulance finally arrived to take the child to the hospital, the teacher jumped in again. He claimed we were working together and refused to let us leave. Everything changed when the child’s mother arrived with a DNA test report in her hand. His entire world collapsed in an instant.

A group of anglers organizes a night fishing trip to a mysterious reservoir. The entry fee is 500 dollars per person, with a guarantee of reeling in a massive catch that's at least 100 pounds. Feeling the lone ten-dollar bill in my pocket, I put on a pitiful act in the group chat. "My mom keeps me on a tight leash. You guys go get rich." That night, my social media feed is flooded with their posts. Photos of wild catches that are as big as a grown man's arms, as well as stacks of cold, hard cash from their so-called haul. Chowing down on cheap street-side tacos, I scoff. "Even the gods can't make the fish bite at high noon. Careful you don't trade your life for that payday." Come next morning, a hysterical mob of wives—seven of them in total—descends on my front door, screaming and wailing. "Was Vince with you last night?" "They're all gone! The men, their cars, everything—gone! Their last known location was right by your apartment!" The lead detective slaps the cuffs on me. As it turns out, that reservoir has been completely dry for the last 30 years.

On the day the kidnappers killed my son, I did not cry. I paid top dollar for the best lawyer in the city to argue that the kidnapper was innocent. And once he was free, I signed ten percent of my shares over to him. I also gave him the house my son had loved most. My husband, Alex Thomas, slapped me in front of the press. He called me a cold-blooded monster. People on social media boycotted my company and demanded my family kick me out. I endured every insult and every attack in silence. At the review hearing, I looked at my husband. "I thought you, of all people, would understand me."