After Death Imagination Short Stories & Novels

It has been three years since I traveled back in time, but today, I stumbled upon a helicopter hidden right inside the manor’s yard. Looking down at my crippled leg, my husband, Ethan Miller, decided to finally drop the act. “Three years ago, you couldn’t accept the fact that I was marrying Vanessa and that you were just the mistress,” he said. “So, we had no choice but to trick you into believing you had traveled back in time, just to keep you locked up here. After serving as a maidservant and an unofficial mistress here for three years, I’d say you’ve finally learned your lesson.” I stared at him in disbelief. Suddenly, the steward standing beside him ripped off a mask, revealing himself to be my brother, Logan York. “Eva, now that Vanessa has safely given birth to her baby, you can finally go back,” Logan said carelessly. Then, he turned to someone else and added, “Hudson, your plan was absolutely flawless!” I slowly turned my head to look. The manor’s resident physician was standing there, smiling right at me. “You didn’t mistake my identity back then. I am your childhood friend, Hudson Jones,” he admitted. “We only set up this entire illusion because we were afraid you would hurt Vanessa.” For three long years, I believed I had traveled back in time. During this time, I was beaten, sold off, violated by countless strangers, and eventually bought by Ethan to be kept as a broken slave and mistress. By now, I had lost the use of my legs and was completely blind in one eye. I went from crying day and night, begging to go home, to living a numb, submissive existence. However, as it turned out, I had never traveled through time at all. The reality of it all made me break down. Just as I was about to end my life, an eerie line of text suddenly appeared before my eyes. [Congratulations to the tragic AI female protagonist for awakening. Countdown to reincarnating as a real human: Two days.] [Countdown: 48 hours.] [Countdown: 47 hours, 59 minutes, 59 seconds.]

All I did is ask my dad why not send the fake heir, Ryland Jones, back to his actual home. In return, Dad forcibly sends me to an institution, where I go through the AI Obedience Conditioning program. Since then, I become the most obedient son Dad ever has. I will carry out all orders that he gives me. One day, I secretly stalk Dad and Ryland to a banquet. That's where I hear Dad chatting with his friends. "I was left without a choice. The moment Callum got home, he began targeting Ryland simply because Ryland isn't related to us by blood. "That's why I can only send him to the program and condition him into an obedient son. I'm doing this for his own good." At that moment, Dad's controller begins vibrating. It signifies that I'm not home right now. His expression changes drastically. Then, he punches in the order with his fingers. "Go home right now and get down on your knees!" I lose total control of my body and begin bolting for the streets. On the way home, I get hit by a speeding car, but I still scramble up to my feet and continue running. At the same time, I keep muttering, "I'm sorry, Dad. I'm going home right now to carry out my punishment." By the time Dad reaches home, he sees me kneeling in a corner with my head bowed. His lips curl into a satisfied smirk. What he doesn't know is that my heart has already stopped beating. Even my body is ice-cold to the touch.

My father, Cameron Howard, and I are transported to an ancient world together. The system tells us that if we can each win over a target, we'll be able to return home. My mission is to win the heart of a ruthless princess, and Dad's mission is to conquer a hot-tempered queen. The princess breaks two of my ribs and ties me behind a horse that drags me for miles. The queen decides Dad isn't kneeling straight enough. So, she crushes his knees with iron tongs and forces burning charcoal into his mouth until he loses his voice. For three years, we live miserably. Just as the system announces "Mission failed", the princess standing before me suddenly smiles. She tears off the mask covering her face. The person underneath the mask is my wife, Abigail Finch. She walks over to the throne and pats the fierce queen on the shoulder. "Mom, haven't you had enough? Cameron and Oscar are almost dead from everything you've put them through." The queen removes her disguise and looks up. It's my mother, Elisha Sweeney. She claps her hands toward the officials filling the throne room. "Alright, everyone. You can get up now. That's a wrap." Dad and I exchange stunned looks. Mom gently squeezes my crippled hand and sighs. "Does it hurt, Oscar? You and your dad made Kenneth Ingram's life miserable every day. You even drove his son, Joel Ingram, into bankruptcy. You've suffered enough now. Consider the score settled." The officials throughout the court remove their wigs, revealing walkie-talkies and sweat-soaked T-shirts beneath their costumes. But none of them know that the transmigration is fake, but the system is real. In the final moments of our lives, Dad and I make a pact with the system. We offer up both of our souls as the sacrifice in exchange for a lifetime of wealth, peace, and happiness for them.

Trapped in a sweltering 40-degree sauna room, I overheard my older brothers talking outside. My second-oldest brother, Sean Lambert, remarked, "This kid is too stubborn. We need to teach her a lesson." My third-oldest brother, Jacob Lambert, replied, "The temperature has been adjusted. She won't die." I was locked up alone for 72 hours. It was their way of punishing me because of my stepsister. Yet, they were the ones who used to love me the most. My father was a business tycoon, my eldest brother, Axel Lambert, was skilled in finance, Sean was a legal expert, and Jacob was a medical prodigy. My mother passed away after fulfilling her mission, leaving these four men to look after me. They once showered me with love like I was their precious gem, until I turned five. That's when my stepmother and her daughter came into the picture, and I was banished to the housekeeper's room. Their attention shifted entirely to my stepsister. Whenever she cried, my father would bring out the punishment box for me to draw lots. 72 hours passed, but no one came to open the door. Before I blacked out, a few lines of small text popped up before my eyes: [The minor character is about to die. Once she dies, she can be reunited with her mother.]

I had always been obedient. Whatever people told me to do, I did. On the day the king and queen brought me back to the palace, my adopted brother leaned close and sneered, "How did it feel to spend three months as a gutter rat? If you have any sense, roll even farther away this time." I nodded, turned, and ran straight toward the edge of a towering cliff. My father and mother were terrified. They barely managed to drag me back, their faces drained of color. When my elder sister saw it, she grabbed my collar and said coldly, "Attention-seeking trash. If being crown prince embarrasses you this much, you might as well die." I said nothing. I grabbed a vial of poison and poured it down my throat. Blood burst from my mouth and nose. My sister froze on the spot, then scrambled out to call the physicians, looking at me like I was a monster. Not long after that, my adopted brother pretended to fall ill, and my sister held a knife to my throat, forcing me to donate blood for him. Before she could finish speaking, I followed the force of her blade and cut my own throat. The moment my parents pushed open the door, blood sprayed across their faces. The room went silent for one stunned instant before screams exploded everywhere. Amid the chaos, I weakly raised my head and looked at the transparent panel floating in the air. The number on it flickered again and again before stopping at 99. They did not know that as long as I obeyed one final time, I could complete the entire storyline for a cannon fodder character in a tragic novel. Then I could leave this world forever and return to my real home.

I'm the fake heiress of a wealthy family. The system has given me three conquest targets to choose. As long as the affection score belonging to any of them becomes full, I can change my predestined death at the age of 23. But I've completely failed in my mission. The conquest targets have fallen for the true heiress, Evelyn Swanson, who has reunited with the family at the age of 18. As long as Evelyn says something, they can easily aim their malice and hatred at me. That's why I choose to take my own life in advance. Strangely enough, everyone is filled with remorse after I die.

During the car crash, my brother didn’t hesitate to save our adopted sister, Chloe Fox, first. Meanwhile, I was crushed beneath the airbag, a searing pain shooting through my left leg. It was definitely broken. My brother’s voice was tense and frantic as he said to me, “Chloe can’t handle pain like you can. Just hold on for a minute!” Before I lost consciousness, I watched him carry Chloe away from the car, leaving me behind as the engine began to smoke. When I finally woke up, I realized I was kidnapped. A masked kidnapper pointed a camera straight at my face and said, “Alright, Mr. Fox. If you don’t want your sister to die, bring me thirty million dollars in cash yourself. She might’ve survived that car crash, but she might not be so lucky with us.” I forced my head up, my vision blurred with dried blood. Through the speaker, I heard Chloe sobbing. “Oh, thank goodness! Jean is still alive! The car blew up, and she still survived… She really is so lucky!” Just like that, the worry in my brother’s voice vanished. “Jean, how long are you going to keep playing these childish games? First a fake car crash, and now a staged kidnapping? You’re unbelievable. If you want to die so badly, go do it somewhere far away where I don’t have to look at you.” Just then, the video call cut off, and the kidnapper became enraged. “If we’re not getting paid, you’re useless to us. Beat her up!” At that exact moment, a robotic voice echoed in my head. [The “cannon fodder-real heiress” mission has been completed, and the “fake heiress’s rags-to-riches tale” progress is at 95 percent. You will exit the storyline upon death. Do you accept?] My sealed memory suddenly resurfaced. As it turned out, my suffering was all just part of a System mission to resurrect my deceased parents. Without a moment of hesitation, I chose yes. The very next second, the System blocked all my pain receptors. As the steel pipes came crashing down on my body, a faint smile formed at the corner of my lips. Whatever I couldn’t take with me, I didn’t want anymore.

My sister has awakened her mermaid bloodline, but it is incomplete. Her skin is her curse. A single touch, too hard, and it cracks. For her, everything hard in our house has been thrown away. I love to dance, but the hard tips of ballet shoes are forbidden. I love music, but the strings of a guitar or the keys of a piano are too dangerous. Every dream I've ever had has been strangled in its cradle because of my sister's condition. My brother, Liam, who raised us both, always looks at me with tired, pleading eyes. "Elara is fragile, Isla. You have to be understanding." But I was only eighteen the first time I truly understood. I came home from my high school graduation ceremony, the scent of sunshine and excitement still on my clothes. The moment I stepped inside, Elara's hand connected with my cheek. Hard. For no reason at all. Everyone rushed to her. Liam pointed a furious finger at me. "Look what you've done! You've hurt her hand! How could you be so careless?" He shoved me aside and rushed out with Elara to find a doctor. I fell back against the glass coffee table, the impact jarring. And then, a strange, cold pain bloomed across my back. I felt my skin... tear. It was then I remembered the doctor's words from my last check-up: "You carry the Siren's Gene, Isla. It could manifest at any time." As my vision blurred, my own blood pooling on the pristine white floor, I finally understood. The curse wasn't just my sister's. It was mine, too.

When my young sister, Sharon, did something wrong for the first time, my mother downloaded an AI child education app. The AI said, "I think that punishing Sharon isn't effective. Why not punish her older sister, Sherry, whom she is close to? That way, Sharon will be disciplined because of her love for Sherry." Since then, I was used as a tool to discipline Sharon. Sharon loved ordering delivery, and my mother followed the AI's advice to dose my food delivery with ten packets of laxatives, which landed me in the emergency room. She used this opportunity to teach Sharon a lesson about food safety. When Sharon stayed out all night and did not come home, my mother followed the AI's advice to get five homeless men to drag me into the alleyway and rape me after I came home late from school to teach Sharon to protect herself. Sharon wanted to adopt a dog, so my mother took the AI's advice to release a mongrel with rabies into my room. I was bitten because I could not evade the dog's attack, as my mother locked me in the room with it. "Once your sister comes back from school, I'll show her the consequences of adopting a dog! "The AI told me that there is a one-month incubation period for rabies. When Sharon finally admits her mistake, I'll take you to the hospital for a vaccination." However, she had no idea that I had been bitten in the head. By the time Sharon returned, I had contracted rabies. My mother used my life as the price to pay for disciplining my sister.

After a car accident, my wife loses her memory. She throws herself into her first love's arms and frantically aborts our child. When I confront her in despair, she looks at me with nothing but contempt. "Why would I keep some child when I don't even know who the father is? You're really shameless, pulling this stunt just to avoid splitting the assets." What she doesn't know is that I have made a deal with the system to bring her back to life. By the time she remembers everything, she's already searching desperately for me all over the world. But I can never return.

Five years after our divorce, I saw my ex-husband, Noah Whitmore, beneath a magnolia tree. He had grown much thinner, but clothes looked more than twice as expensive as they used to be. "It's been a long time. How have you been?" [I've been fine, just a little bored. What about you?] "My company went public. Things have gone fairly smoothly, though I've been a little busy." [Oh, that's good.] After a long silence, he let out a sigh. "Belle, the magnolias in our hometown have bloomed again. Where did you go?" I looked down at my transparent body and answered his words once more. [I'm right here.] Unfortunately, he could no longer hear me.

During the fifth year following the zombie apocalypse, my father becomes the base commander. It is all because Beckett Walker, my younger brother, and I both have antibodies in our blood that can counter the zombie virus. Mom and Dad give the majority of the supplies and resources to Beckett, because I'm just his "backup". But since I'm the backup, I'm still fed and provided for to ensure that nothing happens to me. However, when I accidentally take the food that was meant for Beckett, Dad slaps me in anger. "You already received your portion of the supplies, so why are you trying to steal Beckett's? He's not only your younger brother, but he's also the hope and future of the base!" Mom shrieks at me, "Are you trying to kill your brother so you can take his place?" I want to refute them. I only took it by accident. I didn't do it on purpose. But before I can, Dad locks me up in the cryopod. It's dark and freezing. I curl up in a corner, my body shaking. I'm sorry, Dad. It's so cold. I promise I won't ever be greedy for food again.

The day Dad’s hypnosis stopped working on Mom, she slit her wrists. I ran crying to find Dad. My brother just stood there laughing. "Sis is such a liar. That water's just red food coloring. She and Mom are putting on a show for you." Dad's face flipped from worried to furious. "How long are you going to keep this up?" "Vanessa's depression can't take any more stress. Are you trying to drive her to her grave?" "If you hadn't stolen her parents from her, if you hadn't drugged me and crawled into my bed pretending to be her, I never would have ended up with you." "Pull this act again and I'll throw you back to the slums!" My brother clapped his hands in delight. "Yes! I want Mom gone! I want Aunt Vanessa to be my new mommy!" Mom closed her eyes, all the life draining out of her body. I stood there, jaw clenched, watching Dad walk away with his arm around Vanessa Bennett. A cold, mechanical voice of my mother suddenly echoed in my mind: [Mission failed. Host will be terminated. Countdown: three days.] Dad wouldn’t even have the right to beg her on his knees anymore.

I am the biggest female drug lord in Riverdale, who gets shot in the head during a crackdown operation. As soon as the news breaks, the entire internet celebrates. People even crowdfund to take over a giant screen in the city square to display my obituary photo. They say I filled Riverdale with drugs and single-handedly destroyed countless families. They accuse me of leaking operation routes, causing the deaths of my ex-husband's 13 anti-drug force teammates. Hundreds of thousands sign a petition demanding my ashes be crushed and turned into tiles for public restrooms. To calm the overwhelming public anger, my ex-husband, Tyler Lowell, who is now captain of the anti-drug force, decides to launch a public hearing across the internet to livestream my entire life of alleged crimes. On the day of the trial, people thronged the city square. "A woman like her deserves to be cut up into a thousand pieces! How many families are destroyed because of the drugs she sells?" "I hear she is ruthless. She would even stoop to making a three-year-old do her bidding. She is inhumane!" "She got so many anti-drug officers killed. I want to see her end up in hell!" Tyler presses the start button with a blank expression. The crowd's furious curses come crashing down like waves. It is as if they want to tear me apart and condemn me forever. But in the next second, what appears on the giant screen is me in a uniform, standing under the national flag and taking a solemn oath. In that instant, the entire square falls silent.

While working a summer job at a water park, I was deliberately tripped by Kimmy Ames, my boyfriend Colin Mack’s childhood friend. I fell from an elevated platform. Colin cradled Kimmy, who was only pretending to be unconscious, and blamed me instead. “Some physical contact is unavoidable when I’m teaching her to swim. Are you really so jealous that you’d hurt yourself just to frame Kimmy?” I was in too much pain to offer any rebuttal. Then, the wave pool suddenly activated and swept me into the deep end. Colin was a lifeguard. He gave the only flotation device to Kimmy, who was taking swimming lessons in the shallows. “You have advanced lifeguard certification. A little water isn’t going to kill you, so get yourself out. Kimmy’s still traumatized by a drowning accident that happened when she was younger, so I have to keep her safe.” When I did not respond, he impatiently raised his megaphone. “You’re really going to keep putting on this attention-seeking act in front of everyone? Fine! Stay in there and cool off until you’re ready to behave.” To make sure I had time to reflect on my actions, he cleared everyone else out of the pool before walking away with his arm around Kimmy. He did not know that my arm was broken. I could not swim at all. He also did not know that at that very moment, a whirlpool was pulling me down with relentless force. I calmly closed my eyes and watched him leave. The system permitted him to abandon me only five times. This was the last.

Ever since I was born, my parents bound me to a Pain Transfer System. My body was covered in scars. My older brother, Dylan Jeater, had albinism and Hydroa Vacciniforme. His condition was so severe that he could not be exposed to any light. Doctors determined that he would only live to be sixteen years old. However, Dylan had always been playful. He often snuck outside. Eventually, his body was covered in sores. My father, Robert Jeater, worked day and night to earn money. He finally bought two Pain Transfer System wristbands at a high price for Dylan and me. For six years, the pain Dylan felt from every sun exposure had been transferred to me. My mother, May Jeater, always held me gently and treated my wounds. She said, “Chester, I’m sorry. I just want Dylan to be happy in the time he has left. I hope you understand.” On New Year’s Eve, my parents took Dylan out. It was very sunny that day. As soon as we left the house, my whole body broke out in blisters. I could not help but cry out in pain. Dylan tore off his wristband and broke down sobbing. “Does it hurt? Fine, if you think it hurts so much, then turn off the transfer! Let me just die of the pain! “I’ll only live up to sixteen anyway. I’m going to die sooner or later.” His body became severely sunburned, and he lost consciousness. Mom shoved me to the ground. “Dylan never complained once in all those years of pain! After only six years of it being passed to you, you’re already breaking down?! “He’s only going to live to be sixteen! Is it wrong to want him to be happy in his last few years?” Dad picked up Dylan. “I don’t want you getting hurt either, but the pain can only be transferred between biological brothers.” They then rushed him to the hospital. I picked up the wristband from the ground. A message popped up on the screen. [Do you want to transfer your remaining lifespan to the linked user?] Without any hesitation, I pressed confirm.

Whenever my son, Ethan Shaw, cried, my mother-in-law, Jacqueline, would pat his back and call his name. She said it was to keep his soul from leaving his body when he got scared. I thought she was just being superstitious until one day, an old woman stared at my son and her face went pale. "Why are his pupils so dilated? He only has one-tenth of his soul left! Has anyone tried to summon his soul?" A chill ran down my back and I told her about his grandmother. She said, "She isn't calling his soul back. She's calling it out of his body! I'll give you the candles. Take it home and light it, or your son will die." I was a little wary. Was I really going to suspect my son's own grandmother of hurting him just because some stranger said so? But my son had become easily lost and slow to respond, and even the doctors didn't know how to help him. "Don't worry," the old woman said. "I'm not asking for money. I just want to save him." She pressed the candles into my hand and left. Back home, I lit one of the candles with my hands trembling. The tip had barely begun to glow red when Jacqueline called. "That's a Soul Severing Candle! Put it out now, or Ethan will die!"

When I was younger, I had a car accident. Upon recovering from it, I discovered that I had gained the ability to hear thoughts. I later on married a famous actor named Rob Anderson. I was in love with him, but I found out that he had a mistress, and he started forcing me to read her thoughts so he could pacify her tantrums. One day, I dared to reject his request, and he thus felt justified to heartlessly abandon my pregnant self to the red-light district. I was all but forgotten there. Five years passed before he remembered my existence. His mistress, Fiona Reid, had refused to eat, so he came to the red-light district to look for me. However, he found out that I had disappeared from that place. The girls who were close to me in the past lied about me. They claimed that I had eloped with a rich man. He went downstairs suspiciously and bumped into our daughter, Sally Anderson, who was going through the trash to find food. Sally asked him, “Are you here to look for Hetty?” “Do you know where she went?” “She ran away a long time ago and became a rich man’s mistress. She must be living her best life somewhere far away!” I never thought that my own daughter would smear my name after I died. I did not understand why all the people who had cared for me when I was alive were suddenly spreading all these lies about me.

On the day I'm diagnosed with terminal stomach cancer, my dad suddenly gains the ability to hear people's inner thoughts. My stepmother, Pauline Barton, scolds inwardly, "Why isn't this old fool dead yet?" But what my dad hears is, "Honey, I'd gladly trade ten years of my life for your health." I kneel before him and beg him to take me to the hospital. In my heart, I'm crying, "Dad, please save me. I'm in so much pain." But what he hears is, "Hurry up and give me some money, old man. I want to buy the latest designer bag." So, he dotes on Pauline while throwing me, who is gravely ill, into a dog cage without food or water. Pointing at me, he snarls, "How can you be so vicious? I can't believe you want me dead!" Curled up in agony, I sob as I try to explain. However, all I get in return are even harsher beatings and insults. The moment I die, his ability finally starts working properly. My soul drifts above as I watch him hold Pauline and weep. But inside, she's laughing hysterically. "They're finally all dead. Now the entire family fortune is mine." This time, Dad hears every single word, loud and clear.

I had been an angel who fell from heaven. When I first arrived in the human world, I had no memories and could not tell a red light from a green one. Evelyn Sheridan took me home. She taught me how to dress and how to eat, and she taught me to call her my wife. In our first year of marriage, I handed a guest a glass of dish soap to drink, and she laughed and smoothed it over for me. In the second year, I spent half the night chatting with a goldfish a guest had given us, and her expression stayed dark all evening. By the third year, she no longer smiled at me. She began bringing home a man named Hudson Lowry more often. She said he had a terminal illness and needed my blessing. I agreed. Each time I blessed him, my hair fell out in clumps and my limbs went weak. That continued until Adeline Wray, the woman next door, broke down our door and got me out of the basement while I was unconscious. She told me that the winter she was eight years old, she had nearly frozen to death under a bridge, and a warm light had saved her. "That light smelled exactly like you." She had me treated, bought me tailored suits unlike anything I had ever worn, and settled me into the best apartment she owned. However, she never let me have contact with anyone else. She gripped my wrist and spoke as gently as if she were coaxing a child. "Your kindness belongs to me and no one else. Be good for me." The night I nodded, I heard Evelyn's voice coming from Adeline's study. "The bone marrow results came back in time for next week. He's a perfect match for Hudson. Adeline, keep him happy. Do not let him get away." Adeline stayed quiet for a long time. When she finally spoke, she said only a few words. "I know. After the surgery, he's mine." Moonlight spilled in through the window, and I saw the needle bruises scattered along my arms. From beginning to end, I had never been anyone's husband. I had only ever been the cure.