Plot Twists Imagination Short Stories & Bias Face Slapping Novels

My best friend, James Swift, went back to the day he was supposed to reconcile with his extremely wealthy birth parents. He was unwilling to be a puppet controlled by the rich, so he was unwilling to return to his birth parents. Hence, he asked me to be his replacement without any hesitation. I looked at his mother, who was wearing a lot of diamond rings, and his father, who was dressed in old-money clothes. I immediately replaced James’s position. It was as if any hesitation would be a huge disrespect to this unexpected wealth. Five years later, James showed up with a DNA report and asked me to leave the Swift family. However, he was too late. After five years, I was no longer just a replacement for him. I was already the right-hand man of Swift Corporation. No one would threaten my status in this family.

At one in the morning, the neighbor upstairs suddenly knocked on my door. He said there was a leak in his apartment and asked if our place had been affected. I was just about to open the door when my vision was flooded with comments. [Open the door, and you're dead! That man outside is not your neighbor!] [Didn't the old man upstairs who lived alone go to Marcasia last week to find his new love interest? There shouldn't be anyone up there at all!] I immediately pulled away from the doorknob. At that moment, an emergency notice popped up in the residential property chat. [Unit 1307 has a burst pipe with severe leakage. Property management will inspect the building's water system.] [Is anyone home in 1207? We need to check whether your ceiling is leaking. Please open the door.] Unit 1207 was my place. The comments flooded my vision again. [What kind of property management does inspections at one in the morning? They're in on it together!] [Bea, stay hidden! Your destined man will descend from the heavens to save you!] I nodded solemnly, as if I was taking them very seriously. I turned around and grabbed my climbing rope. Amid the hysterical screaming of the comments, I leapt straight off the balcony. I'm someone who got a second life. Last time around, my entire life was ruined by listening to these brain-dead comments. This time, I'd rather die from the fall than end up as a breeding machine again.

My mother, Aileen Stuart, leaves me a bronze mirror upon her death. One day, I suddenly hear its thoughts. It says exasperatedly, "My naive child, Zara hid her brooch and blamed you for stealing it. And your stepmother? Her tricks are so banal. She rubbed pollen on your clothes, hoping you'd have an allergic reaction and become disfigured. They really are the perfect pair in household scheming. "Dead mother, philandering father, vicious stepmother, wicked idiot of a sister… What an unfortunate deck of cards you have been dealt with." With the mirror's guidance, I manage to carve out a place for myself in this household. One midnight, it wakes me from my sleep. "Jemima, your chance to change your fate has arrived! The assassin who just entered the study next door is the crown prince. Save him, and you will secure a bright future!" Summoning my courage, I push open the study door.

Nathan Carter was famous in high society for being completely devoted to his wife. All because I had an almost obsessive need to control him. Not only did he have to video call me every five minutes to check in, but every morning when I woke up, I expected a five-thousand-word love letter waiting for me. The first time he was a minute late checking in, my paranoia spiraled out of control, and I bombarded him with ninety-nine voice messages, threatening to kill myself. He transferred me one million dollars, dropped to his knees, and swore it would never happen again before I reluctantly forgave him. His voice softened as he leaned closer, trying to kiss me. Suddenly, a flood of comments exploded across my vision. [Exactly! Once Quinn catches HIV, he should dump her. A villainess like her deserves to get sick, lose the baby, and die a miserable death!] [Who could put up with a crazy woman like her? If she hadn't pushed the male lead so hard, he never would've slept around and contracted HIV!] [When is the female lead finally going to show up? I can't wait for her and the male lead to heal each other and get their happily ever after!] I looked at Nathan, who had already taken off his shirt, his breathing heavy. I hurriedly grabbed a towel from the side and wrapped it around myself. "Honey, I'm suddenly not feeling very well. Don't you have a meeting to get to? You should go. I don't want to keep you from work."

On our wedding anniversary, I was about to head out to sign off on the renovation plans for our home. But just as I picked up my car keys, a few lines of text suddenly floated before my eyes. [Don't go.] [They're not waiting for you to approve the renovation plans today. They're waiting for you to sign an addendum to the renovation loan agreement.] [Once you sign, that $60,000 renovation loan will become $1.6 million in joint debt.] [Joel Yates will use a copy of your ID, your signature from an old document, and a video authorization to prove you willingly took out the loan.] [The money will go into your best friend Vivian Blake's account. They've been sleeping together for a long time.] [In three months, the house your parents left you will be sold at auction.] [Debt collectors will drive you to a breakdown, and you'll jump to your death. Joel will take the payout from your death and marry her.] I froze in the entryway. A second later, Joel called. "Lily, are you on your way? The designer and the bank representative are both here. We just need you to come sign a few more papers."

Ever since I was a kid, I noticed a pattern: I made a wish, my adopted sister got double. She stole everything from me. Even my biological mother treated her like royalty. Until her 99th pool party show-off. I stopped playing the silent, good girl. I made a new wish. "I want a hot date with a wild 26-year-old rocker." The next day, a smelly 52-year-old ex-con stalked her and groped her right in our living room. I made another wish. "I want to lose 10 pounds." Mia worshipped her pristine Size 0 figure. A twenty-pound drop would kill her. My father dropped his dignity and fell to his knees by my heels, sobbing: "Please, stop wishing!" I looked down at him and smirked coldly: "I wish to forfeit six hours of sleep every night. For art. For inspiration." My adopted sister went completely insane on the spot.

On our wedding night, my husband, Ralph Raymond, dropped dead in our bed and left me hundreds of millions. Naturally, everyone told me to remarry while I was still young. Even my best friend secretly set me up with a guy. Broad shoulders. Slim waist. Not as hot or rich as Ralph, but young, sweet, and always there. Then he proposed. And glowing messages blew up in front of my face. [Do NOT say yes! Lila set this whole thing up! She knows Ralph's ghost is still right beside you!] [The second you take that ring, everyone will call you a gold digger and a cheating liar!] [Ralph's love will turn into hate. When he comes back from the dead, you're the first person he'll strangle.] [And your fake bestie? She'll save the man you betrayed, steal his heart, take his fortune, and spend the next forty years living your life. Their epic love story will be the only thing anyone talks about.] I stared at the guy on one knee, holding out a diamond ring. A few seconds passed. I chose to trust the messages. Then I slapped him.

My wealthy family could hear every thought in my head. On my first day home, they sent their adopted son a forty-thousand-dollar allowance. Me? They sent thirty bucks. I grumbled to myself, 'Is this a joke? Thirty dollars? I make more than that tightening bolts at the plant.' They looked down their noses at me, sneering, waiting for me to come crawling to them. Then they heard what I thought next. 'A top Healy City family's monthly allowance for both its sons adds up to a measly 40,030 dollars? That wouldn't even buy a square yard of insulation. 'What family fortune is there to even fight over? 'The plant still hasn't hit this year's KPI of thirty rockets. Instead of wasting time on rich-family power games, I could be building a few more rockets to hold off the aliens.'

My husband and my best friend had seemingly vanished during my grandfather-in-law's funeral. As I searched for them, I passed Shawn Whitaker's coffin and suddenly saw a live chat window flash into view: [Oh goodie, we're finally dealing with a male lead with a 200 IQ! He dragged Best Girl straight into the coffin before that bitch could find out!] [Aww, he's comforting Best Girl because she's scared of the dark! Aaaaahhhhh!] [That annoying extra is still outside looking for Vincent. She's so dumb, oh my god. I'm right here cheering for Best Boy to cheat with Best Girl because I swear that bitch exists just to get in their way!] Fury surged through me. I moved to flip the coffin lid open, but Jasmine grabbed my arm. "Wait! He can't possibly be in there. I think he went to buy Grandpa coffin nails." [Get yourself a little sister who helps you find happiness like Jazzy, chat.] [And now, in the warm, cramped, humid darkness, two bodies collide and sparks fly. This is metal as hell.] [It's also dangerous as hell. I'm just glad our guy was smart enough to leave a crack for air.] I smirked. Oh, was he? I slammed the lid shut, dragged a nearby lounge chair over, and settled into it. "We've got an hour before the funeral begins, don't we? I think I'll keep Grandpa company." The audience was stunned. [An hour?! They're going to die in there!]

When the owner of the horror game world summoned me home to reunite with my family, I was busy scolding the horrors in my dungeon. After spending years as a dungeon boss, I finally learned that I was the heiress of the Swans in the real world. The moment I stepped through the front door, carrying the gifts my horrors gave me on my back, the fake heiress shoved me hard to the ground. "Don't even think you can come back and take my place! Mom and Dad will never love you!" My birth parents treated me with indifference, made me sleep in the storage room, and used me to make their fake daughter look good. At a banquet, my fiancé splashed red wine on me before acting intimate with the fake heiress right in front of my face. It wasn't until the fake heiress was chosen to participate in 'Call of the Sea', a horror scenario, that they remembered my value. Without any hesitation, they bound me to enter the game with her, gently reassuring her, "Don't worry, Anna, we'll make sure you're safe no matter what!" "Don't be afraid, alright? Sylvia will die in your place!" None of them noticed the mocking smile on my lips. Silently, I spoke in my heart, 'Welcome to my dungeon! Now, none of you will leave alive!'

On the day I decide to quit the game, multiple comments suddenly streak across my vision. "Great news! The female supporting lead is finally quitting the game!" "Stacy no longer has to worry about getting exposed for using the supporting lead's game account to get into online relationships with others!" "Stacy is really smart! Every time she uses the supporting leads account, she always uses the in-game voice chat function! That supporting lead has no idea that Stacy has been doing this behind her back!" "Wow, Stacy really is blessed to have reeled in such amazing men!" "I can't believe she used the female supporting lead's max-level account to flirt with four of the best players on the server!" "At 2:00 pm later, she'll be meeting her first target, Lewis Johnes, the cold and aloof campus heartthrob, at Riche Cafe!' "Tomorrow, Stacy will be meeting the best assassin in person. The day after that, she'll meet the rich scion who's also ranked second on the list! She really is amazing with her time management skills!" The "Stacy" that the comments mention is Stacy White, my roommate. She actually impersonated me to flirt with four top-tier players on the server, huh? More comments streak across my vision once again. "Why isn't Heather leaving right now? Lewis is already waiting for Stacy!" "This is their first sweet date as a couple! Oh gosh, I can't wait to see it unfold!" I turn to look at Stacy, who's touching up her makeup in front of the vanity mirror. Only then do I understand that I'm the female supporting lead the comments are talking about. A small smile appears on my face. Since Stacy is impersonating me to become a Casanova, then it's not wrong of me to attend those meetings and reap the reverse harem she has prepared for me, right?

For the sake of that fake heiress, my biological parents and brother threw me into a horror game to "teach me some manners." The second the game started, the fake heiress, Nicole, went out of her way to provoke the ghosts nonstop. Once she'd pissed them off, she shoved me in front of her to take the punishment. As I lay there, tortured within an inch of my life, she planted her foot on my head and smirked. "Mom and Dad already made it clear—I'm the only one they truly love. They only brought you back to keep me entertained! Letting you deal with those ghosts for me is more than generous. If you dare complain, once my brother and the others get back, they'll skin you alive." In my past life, I treated them like family and gave in every single time. In the end, I was nothing but a stepping stone for them to beat the game—torn apart and devoured by over a dozen ghosts. But now, I've been reborn. "Welcome to Horror Instance: Happy Home." The moment I heard that mechanical announcement, I slapped the arrogant Nicole so hard she flew across the room. Because in this instance, the three bosses that terrorized every player… were all my family. The red-dressed female ghost who killed without hesitation was my adoptive mother. The monster with scissors for hands who ripped out hearts with a single swipe was my adoptive father. And the ruthless warden who devoured people whole, leaving no bones behind, was my adoptive brother. With them watching my back, why the hell would I keep putting up with this? A mocking smile curled across my lips as I said, "You're on my turf; none of you are getting out alive."

I have a bad habit. I always say I’ll do something, but whether I actually follow through is another story. When I was eight, my adoptive father stole an e-bike and told me to keep watch. I patted my chest confidently. “Don’t worry. If anyone comes, I’ll tell you!” Then I squatted by the curb and got distracted watching a trail of ants. Twenty minutes later, my adoptive father was hauled away in a police car, along with the stolen battery. Later, I was kidnapped. The trafficker told me to sit still and keep quiet. I nodded eagerly. “Okay, sir!” Then I rolled down the window and waved at everyone outside. “Hi! My uncle told me not to make any noise!” By the time we’d driven three blocks, the police had received more than a dozen calls. As the officers dragged him out of the car, the trafficker broke down. “I’ve been doing this for ten years, and I’ve never had a job go this horribly wrong!” That was how my DNA ended up in a database for missing and trafficked children. Four years later, my wealthy biological parents found me. On my first day in their mansion, the girl who had taken my place came to me holding a bracelet. “Nina, this bracelet has been in the Bennett family for generations. You’re their biological daughter, so it rightfully belongs to you.” I agreed without hesitation. “Sure. I’ll take it!” Then she ran crying into Mom’s arms and claimed I’d stolen the bracelet Grandma had left her. My brother flew into a rage and kicked open my bedroom door. “Nina Bennett! How dare you steal Fiona’s bracelet and humiliate her?” I looked up at him in confusion. “What bracelet?” “Don’t play dumb!” He was about to have my room searched when the butler rushed in. “Mrs. Bennett, this bracelet has been sitting in the foyer the whole time. One of the housekeepers nearly put it away with the costume jewelry.”

My adopted brother made a name for himself during the potion competition by using a potion he had stolen from me. No one expected the competition to be a ruse, but it turned out to be a scheme to find a husband for the serpent clan's youngest princess. She was born barren, cruel, and hideous. That very night, the serpent clan delivered a marriage contract, demanding that the creator of the potion take the princess as his wife. When my fiancée heard the news, she panicked and bonded with my adopted brother on the spot. After sealing their bond, he lifted his shirt, proudly showing me the wolf mark carved into his back. "Your fiancée's mine now, bro. What are you going to do? You'll turn twenty-five in three days. If no one marries you by then, you'll be randomly matched to one of those older, violent nomad beastwomen." He was wrong. I still had one choice left. I found my parents in the front hall, once again cleaning up the mess he had made. "If he won't marry the serpent princess," I said, "then I will."

As per my father’s offer, I decided to leave both my son and husband behind and go back home where I would become his little girl again. That decision came after I heard my family’s true thoughts following my surgery. My husband thought, “It was just a minor issue! Why did she stay in the hospital for so long? She’s back and has yet to do any chores. Can’t she see that my suit needs ironing?” My son thought, “She spent so much money on that surgery, and now she’s even drinking my favorite yogurt! Why can’t she be a successful businesswoman like Sarah? All she does is stay in the house and act like a freeloader!” My mother-in-law thought, “She had to come back right when I’m making chicken soup, of all times! She can just drink the dishwater for all I care.” Feeling utterly disappointed, I turned around and closed the door. Then I called my father. “Yes, it’s just me. I’m not bringing anyone.”

My wife's first love was bound to an "overachiever" system—every ounce of exhaustion he racked up from grinding away at work got transferred straight to me. He pulled seven straight all-nighters to land a multi-million-dollar deal and became a legend in the industry. Meanwhile, I ended up in the ER with heart failure. When I tried to explain it to my wife, she shot me a look of pure disgust. "You're just born lazy," she snapped. "You can't stand seeing him succeed at such a young age, so you make up some sick fairy tale to accuse him." After that, every late night he pulled chipped away at my body. First came nervous exhaustion, then organ failure—until I was hanging on by a thread. I went to the hospital for tests, but the doctors couldn't find a thing. A few even hinted I might be suffering from paranoid delusions. Then, to get his company listed on the stock exchange, he locked himself in his office for two weeks straight. I wound up dead from overexertion in my own room. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the night of his very first all-nighter. This time, I bolted the door, pulled out a full strip of sleeping pills, and smiled. "Time to sleep."

On the day Steven, my husband, died in battle, Luke, my only son, was kidnapped by human traffickers. Wendy, my mother-in-law, cursed at me. My parents blamed me for it. Even the villagers said I deserved it. While I was consumed by grief, Wendy suggested I take in an abandoned baby to continue the family line. Just as I was about to agree to it, words suddenly appeared in front of me. [The villainess wouldn’t ever expect the male protagonist to actually be alive, right? Does she know that he’s with the female protagonist?] [That’s right. Even the news about her son being kidnapped was fake!] I was confused. Before I could make sense of it, I saw more words. [Honestly, the villainess is pretty pitiful. Her husband faked his death because he likes her sister! Even her son isn’t her own flesh and blood.] [That’s not all. The abandoned baby is actually the protagonists’ son! When she brings up the boy and sends him to university, the protagonists will reunite with their son and be a happy family.] [It can’t be helped. It’s her fault for being the villainess. She can only be a stepping stone for the protagonists.] I was stunned. I was only to be a tool for the happiness of Steven and Margaret, my sister? As I carried the abandoned baby I had picked off the road, I sneered. If they wanted me to be their stepping stone, then they could not blame me for playing a little substitution trick.

A doomsday blizzard hit just before Christmas. The zombie virus exploded. Our fortress was a top-tier ski resort. Now, it was about to fall. My husband, Ethan, was a former Navy SEAL. Our head of security. He swore his defense system was foolproof. The blizzard knocked out the power. But he’d sent all the backup generator fuel to the summit. Just to light up a Christmas tree for Chloe. He even had a few guards up there with them, throwing a party. In my last life, I fought him. I herded everyone into the last bunker. But Chloe whined. A crowded Christmas was boring, she said. She stormed out of the safe room and ran right into the jaws of the horde. Ethan carved a path through the horde to secure the walls. Then he sat in silence, cradling Chloe’s bones. He pretended he wanted to start over with me. He let me get pregnant with his child. The day I gave birth, he knocked me unconscious and dumped me into a nearby zombie nest. He always rescued me just before I died. He’d inject me with a serum that kept me from turning. Nineteen times, he threw me to the zombies. I died in agony as they tore the flesh from my bones. "If you hadn't sabotaged my defenses," he’d hissed, "if you hadn't crashed our party and led the horde right to us, Chloe would still be alive!" I opened my eyes. I was back. Christmas Eve.

After Ryan Spencer cheated on me again with his secretary, I completely lost it. When my mind started to spiral, I grabbed the fruit knife off the table. I just wanted it to end. “Why are you hurting yourself again? He doesn’t love you anymore?” I looked up. The sixteen-year-old Ryan was walking toward me, heartbreak written all over his face. His voice was gentle. “Tell me who he is. I’ll make him pay.” I stared into the bright, earnest eyes of the boy standing in front of me. I didn’t say a word. I simply lifted my hand and pointed at his face. Later, Ryan was the one who had me admitted to a psychiatric hospital. When the sedative began to wear off, the teenage boy appeared again, sitting by my bed. He stared at the man outside who looked just like him. The light in his eyes faded little by little. Then he spoke, his voice strained. “I don’t care who he is. I’ll kill him.” The sixteen-year-old Ryan never lied to me. When he said something, he meant it.

After failing my mission, the system sent me back to the modern world and stripped away all my emotions. But three years later, alarms suddenly blared through my mind as the system went into a frenzy. The system told me that Adrian Blackwood, the Regent I failed to win over, had gone mad. He bathed the royal court in blood and was determined to drag the entire Kingdom of Ashbourne into ruin. The only thing keeping him going was his obsession with seeing me one more time. I refused immediately. He had already ruined my life. Why should I go back and save him? The system grew so desperate that it started glitching. In the end, it offered me a blood-bound contract: if I agreed to return, all penalties would be erased. On top of that, it would give me a fortune large enough to let me live comfortably for the rest of my life. After weighing the pros and cons, I agreed. But when the emotionless version of me stood before Adrian once again, the Regent who held the entire kingdom in his grasp dropped to his knees at my feet.