Plot Twists Imagination Short Stories & Bias Novels

Yuna Cooper was left mentally impaired after saving my life, so I gave up my chance to return home and remained in the mission world to care for her. But in my third year there, she suddenly ran me down with her car. Then, taking Joshua Cook’s hand, she told me, “I’ve finally waited for this day. Once you’re dead, Joshua and I can take your place as the one chosen by the system and live forever.” Only then did I realize she had been pretending all along, plotting to steal the system from me. What she did not know was that I had been enduring the system’s punishments this entire time. I said to the system, “There are two new hosts willing to take my place. Can I leave now?”

The apocalypse hits, and my entire family awakens superpowers, except me. I'm a total dud. What they don't realize is that I'm actually the family's Wi-Fi hotspot for powers. They're only superpowered as long as they stay within 500 yards of me. So, I stick to them like glue, and they cherish their one "powerless" family member like gold. Then my brother, Dylan Brewer, rescues a woman from a zombie horde who looks identical to Mom. That's when I learn I'm the fake heiress who has been swapped at birth. Once she joins the family, she awakens a spatial ability that lets her hoard endless supplies. During a supply run, she suddenly yanks me out of the safety circle and shoves me toward a supermarket packed with zombies. "You freeloading dud! Everyone's risking their lives! What gives you the right to hide behind us and leech off our hard work?" I break free from her grip and try to explain. "I can't go! If I die, your powers will—" Before I can say "disappear", a cold gun barrel presses against my forehead.

Although I'm the ace translator of my company, I let the receptionist, Janice Cartman, take charge of a translation project that's worth over 100 million dollars of my own volition. In my past life, Janice is the childhood friend of my boyfriend, Nicholas Sanders, who has dropped out of middle school. Yet, she suddenly masters eight languages overnight. Not only that, but she claims that she simply taught herself the languages. I need to research the technical terms beforehand every time I take on a translation project, but Janice is able to easily translate anything that she hears on the spot with 100% accuracy. Everyone praises Janice for being a translation genius while calling me a worthless loser in private. Janice stops me when I'm about to go on stage to fulfill my duties as the translator for the 100-million-dollar project. I've spent the last two weeks preparing for it, sacrificing sleep to ensure that I'm completely ready. "This isn't the time for you to show off, Giselle. This project will determine whether the company will become publicly listed. Your foundation isn't as good as mine, so I'll take your place!" Nicholas and my other colleagues fully support Janice's suggestion. I do everything I can to change their minds, but in the end, I'm still forcefully replaced. Janice's translations are flawless. She's lauded as the hero of the company. Meanwhile, I'm demoted to a cleaning lady under the pretext that my skills are lacking. I don't understand. I've spent the last decade working myself to the bone to hone my skills, yet I still lose to Janice, who becomes a translation genius overnight. In a daze, I accidentally lose my footing and drown to death. Seconds before I breathe my last breath, I find out that Janice's translations are a hoax. She simply repeats the words that she hears in my heart. When I open my eyes again, I realize that I've been transported back to the day when Janice claims that she's a translation genius who knows eight languages. This time, I don't stay up all night to prepare my translation materials. Instead, I start memorizing a funeral speech!

On my 24th birthday, an app suddenly appears on all the other digital devices in my family except my phone. The one inside that app is another version of me, another Cordelia Winchester. But she's so much better at everything than I am. Mom's bakery has been in the red for three years. "Cordelia" casually tweaks one recipe, and the cakes sell out that same day. Dad has failed to earn his promotion three times. "Cordelia" revises his presentation, and the very next day, his boss grants his promotion. My fiance, Chase Jensen's company is about to run out of cash. "Cordelia" spends ten minutes reworking his pitch deck, and the investors immediately put in another 20 million dollars. From then on, Mom starts asking her how to develop every new dessert. Dad prints out screenshots of everything she says. Even when Chase chooses an engagement ring, he asks her opinion first. On my 25th birthday, before we even cut the cake, Mom suddenly stares at the app and asks, "Does she really have to stay inside the phone?" Dad lowers his voice. "Is there any way to bring her here for real?" Chase taps open customer support. [Apply for a parallel-life exchange?] Customer support replies, [After the exchange, the Cordelia from your world will be sent to the other world. Confirm exchange?] They barely hesitate. I watch as they hit "confirm", my nails digging into my palms and drawing blood. I force a strained smile. "Since you guys adore her so much, I hope you don't regret this." The next second, a red line of notification appears on the screen. [Exchange sequence initiated. Countdown: 7 days.]

My fiancé, Julian Vance, was the definition of a prince charming—the kind every woman in town would kill for. He was stunning to look at, a devoted lover, and looked at me with eyes so sweet they seemed to drip with honey. Chloe Mercer, my best friend, was a ray of sunshine. Whenever I needed a pick-me-up, she would show up with a strawberry crepe cake—sweet, soft, and comforting. They were the two most important people in my life, my sanctuary, whom I trusted with all my heart. Until the iron doors were welded shut. The screech of rusting metal scraping in the dark sounded like the wailing of damned souls from hell. Gasoline came seeping in through the crack under the door. When the flames roared to life, I heard Julian’s voice. He was standing right outside. Through billows of thick, suffocating smoke, his voice was gentle, caressing. “Hazel... I’m sorry. “Sterling Group’s ten-billion-dollar empire... “Starting today, it would be under the Vance name.” Chloe stood right by his side. The inferno cast a sickening crimson glow across her face. She didn’t utter a word. But the corners of her mouth were curled upward. Her eyes were overflowing with triumph. I choked down one last breath of heavy, toxic smoke. My lungs felt like they were being sliced up under a blade. I died—but did I?

Eight years ago, I was transported into this post-apocalyptic power fantasy novel as the same-named expendable nobody. I had the ability to create a large-scale radiation shield that could block zombies. I was the only S-Rank ability user in the entire colony. But because my younger brother, Samuel Grant, failed to awaken his ability, my only purpose became providing him with "upgrade materials." I tried to fight against the story and refused to hand over my crystal core. But the story's inertia twisted everyone's minds. My parents accused me of working with the Zombie King just so they could forcefully transplant my crystal core into Samuel. My ex-wife, Chloe Carter, went even further. While I was unconscious, she personally cut open my chest and took half of my crystal core. I survived. But my spine was severely damaged. My ability circuits were destroyed. I became a cripple who could never stand again. After I was released from prison, I could only work at a chemical protection laundry plant on the outer edge of the colony. Then, a mutant zombie horde carrying extreme radiation surrounded the colony. The old shield generator was burned out by the radiation. Suddenly, my entire family knelt in the dirty wastewater and begged me. "Ethan, you're the only one who can manually guide the remaining power in your ability to repair the shield! You have to save Samuel! He's still fighting on the front lines!" Sitting in my wheelchair, I pointed at the eight-inch scar across my chest. Then I pointed at my withered legs. "The crystal core is inside Samuel's body. My broken spine is buried in the mud under your feet. I can't even stand anymore. And you want me to go into the radiation zone? Are you hoping to watch me die?"

Ever since I was little, I've been able to hear the thoughts of people who love me. When I'm three, Mom and Dad hold me up in the air, both thinking that I'll always be their little princess. When I'm 18, Aaron Searle blushes as he hands me a love letter, silently promising to love me in this life and the next. We've been together for seven years, five of them long-distance. Now, Aaron has come all the way to my city to propose. He drops to one knee, his gaze warm. "Marry me, Mia." Tears fill my eyes. Joy floods Mom's thoughts and Dad's alike as I hold out a trembling hand. Just as Aaron is about to slide the ring onto my finger, his thoughts vanish, replaced by fuzzy static. I freeze and look up at him. "What's wrong, Mia?" my best friend asks beside me. I say nothing. When I listen for her thoughts, I hear the exact same static. I draw my hand back. Over the past seven years, I've heard Aaron's thoughts nearly 30,000 times. But this time, all I want is silence.

Timothy Grayson has been frail and sickly since childhood, yet he dreams of fighting on the front lines. I ask the system to strengthen his life force, and the price is that we exchange each other's pain and wound. From then on, Timothy fights without fear, knowing someone else is bearing the pain for him. With every battle, he grows bolder and earns countless military honors. For three years, I bear every bit of his pain alone. Every time a stray arrow pierces him in battle, the pain is so intense that I nearly bite through my own tongue. Meanwhile, the only pain Timothy ever gets from me is a dull ache in his lower abdomen for a few days each month and the occasional headache or fever. I accept it all. But after meeting Sarah Tucker, Timothy grows increasingly reckless. Fearing she'd get caught in the rain, he drapes his coat over her. Yet, I spend the entire night suffering through a bone-deep chill. Sarah is afraid of the dark, so Timothy ventures into a fever swamp to find her a luminous gem. I spend the next three days bedridden, coughing up black blood in his place. Even after returning home victorious from war, the first thing Timothy says to me is, "Ana, you've endured three years of suffering in my place. I'll never forget what you've done for me. But Sarah is the woman I love. I could never ask her to be my mistress." That's when I hear the system's voice for the first time in a long while. It says, "Loss of hope detected. Once the death condition is triggered, you may return to the real world." I nod without a word. From then on, Timothy and I go our separate ways.

The year we were too poor to eat anything but scraps, two important figures from the capital arrived at the orphanage. They had come to find the General’s lost daughter. After they did, they donated a hundred gold pieces with a wave of their hand and passed out pastries to every child. When I reached for mine, words scrolled across my vision. [Show them your pendant! They're here for you!] [Just expose the impostor trying to steal your birthright, and you'll finally have a family.] They said the General was my brother, and the Chancellor was my fiancé. However, I just bit into the pastry and buried my head a little lower. I already knew the two of them had come for the fake daughter. Whether I showed them the pendant or not, they were never going to look at me.

My best friend, Eleanor Clark, and I both get transported into an ancient world. After completing our system task to help the regent take the throne, the system whisks me back to the real world. Eleanor, however, chooses to stay behind with the regent. [Isabel, theoretically the system cannot interfere once a task is complete, but your friend Eleanor has gone missing. Can you go back one more time?] My chest tightens, and I agree to the system's request immediately. Disguised as a palace maid, I catch sight of Eleanor from afar, looking blissfully happy as she holds a child. Relieved, I decide not to disturb her and head back to the teleport point to report to the system. As I pass the old city gate, I spot a woman's corpse hanging high on the wall. Every inch of her skin has been flayed away, and her face has been completely disfigured. Even her blood has run dry. Driven by caution, I look closer. Her pelvis is dislocated. It is obvious that she was brutally tortured before she died. As I scan the contours of her face, I feel a sudden sense of familiarity. Dread creeps over me. My eyes drop to her right hand, where the pinky finger has been severed. My blood turns to ice. Her frame matches Eleanor's perfectly. If this corpse is… Then who is the empress sitting beside the emperor that day?

The year I lose my eyesight, I happen to stumble upon Wendy Peck, who's just moments away from freezing to death. I beg my mom to save her, telling her I want a companion to guide me. Leaning toward Wendy, I whisper a promise in her ear. "I don't need you to be my guide. Just focus on staying alive. And you can go wherever you want." But after my mom remarries, Wendy stays and becomes the only person I have left to rely on. She watches over me as I grow up, acting as my white cane year after year. She even goes so far as to walk away from her dream and incredible talent for painting to study medicine, all for the sake of my eyes. But even though she has become one of the best eye doctors in the world, I still can't see a thing. Then, on my 25th birthday, Wendy's former closest friend, Abel Petersen, wins a prestigious art award. Wendy locks herself in the study, and all I hear is the rustling of paper. Keeping her emotions in check, she tells me she's writing me a birthday wish. Just as I happily step forward to kiss her, lines of comments suddenly sweep across my pitch-black vision. "Wake up, you blind idiot. She just tore all her paintings to shreds, and on the back of every single one, she wrote, 'Drop dead, James Glover.'" "Don't take another step forward! She left a live wire in front of you. If you step on it, you're a goner!" I freeze in my tracks. Then, with a smile, I continue to stride toward her. "Wendy, all your wishes will definitely come true."

After I found my husband in bed with my best friend, I was ready to set the house on fire and take them both with me. Just as I picked up the lighter, I received a video call from my future self. My future self's eyes were bloodshot. She pointed at the grotesque, disfigured right side of her face and screamed. "Sophie, stop! If you do this, you'll end up exactly like me!" "They both survived. Then they had you convicted of attempted murder, divorced you while you were in prison, stripped every asset from your name, and patented the breakthrough drug you'd just developed!" "That... that drug will be the only effective leukemia treatment anyone develops for the next twelve years. They'll make tens of millions of dollars from it." "And you'll pay for it. Twelve years from now, you'll walk out of prison looking like me, treated like a monster and too terrified to show your face outside..." A shudder tore through me. I hurled the lighter into the trash. Only then did my future self let out a relieved breath, though her eyes quickly filled with urgency again. "Remember, get the divorce as soon as possible!" "Then go straight to the Ashton Biomedical Research Center and find Vincent Hale, the rival you could never stand. He'll help you..." The screen went black. I stared at my own reflection in the dark display. I took a deep breath and opened the kitchen door. "Let's get a divorce. I'm done."

Ten minutes before the ceremony, my phone lit up with a photograph that made my stomach turn. A woman with sunken eyes, thin down to the bone, crawling across a floor on her hands and knees like a dog. My fiance, Harrison Blake, stood over her, looking down at her with disgust. I was about to block the number and write it off as a prank when two more messages came through. "Run. Right now. Whatever you do, don't marry Harrison Blake." "That woman on the floor is you, ten years from now."

One day, I somehow connected to a video call with my husband from five years ago. “Madison, you said yes to being my girlfriend today! I couldn’t be happier! “We’ll still be this happy five years from now, right? I have promised to spend the rest of my life treating you right.” On screen, Julian Lorde smiled with such confidence. With downcast eyes, I didn’t say a word. I quietly flipped the camera toward the bed. The man tangled in the sheets with another woman was my husband, Julian—just five years later. The sounds of their affair filled the air. Paying no heed to the young man’s stunned expression, I ended the video call and sent a text. “See that? “We won't get our happily ever five years later. The only thing waiting for us is the divorce papers.”

After I switched bodies with my driver, I ended up trapped in the body of an overweight, unattractive man everyone looked down on. My sister Joanne Harper and my fiancée, Serena Lane, did everything they could to find a way to switch us back. Joanne hired an exorcist and even gave her own blood for the ritual. Serena climbed three thousand icy steps to a remote mountaintop chapel in the middle of a blizzard, dropping to her knees in prayer every few steps. But Julian Brown, now living in my body, looked at them pitifully. “My romance system says we can only switch back if both of you truly fall in love with me.” From that day on, Joanne appeared to indulge his every whim, buying him sports cars and mansions. Behind his back, she made it up to me tenfold, a hundredfold. In public, Serena kissed him and acted affectionate. The moment she turned away, she looked like she wanted to scrub herself head to toe with disinfectant. I thought they were forcing themselves through all of it for my sake. Until one day, I accidentally overheard my sister talking to my fiancée. “The exorcist said that in three more days, they’ll be stuck like this permanently.” “Julian is so innocent. He deserves a good life. Asher’s always been spoiled and arrogant. Maybe this will finally teach him a lesson.” What they didn’t know was that I had a system too. And if I didn’t get my body back in three days, I would die.

On the very first day my biological parents brought me home, the fake heir framed me for stealing and even got my fiancée to break off our engagement in front of everyone. Then my entire family told me to get out and go back to the countryside. Completely devastated, I wandered to the swimming pool, ready to end my life. That was when the Ragdoll cat at my feet, the fake heir’s beloved pet, suddenly spoke. 【For fuck’s sake! Don’t jump, you idiot!】 【In our last life, that two-faced bastard drove you to your death, stole the multi-billion-dollar inheritance your grandmother left you, and then tortured me to death too!】 I froze, one foot already hovering over the water. The cat smacked a paw against the ground impatiently, hatred blazing in its bright blue eyes. 【And that bastard’s biological parents are serial killers! The evidence is hidden inside the teddy bear in his room!】 【So quit trying to kill yourself, go find the evidence, and let’s take him down together!】 I stared at the cat, completely dumbfounded. But after a moment, I changed my mind. If my family wanted to throw away their real son so badly, then I’d make sure they lived to regret it. I turned around, marched into the kitchen, grabbed the biggest meat cleaver I could find, and kicked open the fake heir’s bedroom door.

I guided 3,600 souls across the River Styx. I endured the fires of Hell 3,600 times on behalf of the rich and powerful. I turned down 3,600 offers from the King of Hell to be reborn into a life of wealth and privilege. Finally, after I earned enough merit, the King of Hell allowed me to return to the day of my father’s wedding. I shoved my way through the guests and screamed until my voice gave out. “Dad! Don’t marry her!”

By the time I woke inside the body of the true heir in a novel, the one everyone despised and who had never done a single decent thing, the story was already nearing its end. My biological parents gave up on me after I framed the boy they had raised in my place one time too many. My fiancee was hopelessly obsessed with him. She would have paid for a ten-million-dollar wedding out of her own pocket just to make him smile. My biological sister was his fiercest protector. If I said one thing that upset him, she was ready to make me pay. As the person everyone despised, my ending was obvious. Everyone voted to send me away to a private behavioral-health residence. Curled against him, my fiancee mocked me. "Maybe you'll finally learn how to behave." My parents withdrew everything except a monthly ten-thousand-dollar allowance. "That's the minimum support we'll give you." "Beyond that, you're on your own." I was so delighted that I dropped to one knee and swept them a deep, theatrical bow. "You're too kind, Your Majesty." The next second, every face in the room changed.

My husband, Gideon Hale, returned from the war with barely a breath left in him. Yet despite his condition, he insisted on going to the palace and used his military achievements to secure a royal decree. I thought he had gone to obtain a noble title for me. I was ready to berate him for his foolishness, but the contents of the decree rooted me to the spot. [By royal decree, Gideon Hale, Marquis of Northguard, and his first wife, Clara Reinhart, are permitted to share a tomb.] Clara was my dearest friend from girlhood. My ears rang. I opened my mouth to demand an explanation, but before I could utter a word, Gideon breathed his last. I stood frozen until my son suddenly snatched the decree from my hands and said impatiently, "Mother is Father's true wife. I'm her son too. You gave birth to a daughter, but she died long ago." The words struck me like lightning, and a sharp pain twisted through my chest. "You... What did you just say?" My son didn't answer. Instead, he ordered someone to bring out the family register. The place that had always belonged to me as Gideon's lawful wife now bore Clara Reinhart's name, inscribed there by Gideon's own hand with the utmost solemnity. "Father allowed you to keep the dignity of being his wife. He never publicly acknowledged Mother his entire life. You should be grateful, shouldn't you?" Then he handed me our marriage certificate. Gideon's name still stood beside Clara's. Yet the marriage certificate I had treasured for years was completely blank, as though it had never borne a single word. Only then did the full truth sink in. Not only had I been nothing more than a consort all these years, but I had also raised another woman's child as my own. Before I could draw another breath, I died with my eyes wide open. When I opened them again, I had returned to the day I gave birth.

The fortress I'd built with all my soul as refuge in the apocalypse was seized on the day of, and by my boyfriend with his childhood friend no less. Just as a zombie was about to chew through my neck, I suddenly heard his thoughts. "Who would know?! Not all zombies want to eat humans! But it's not like we have chips and cookies to munch on!" In just a flash, I whipped out the sleeve of Oreos I was carrying around. The zombie's eyes lit up. "You can understand us?!" I nodded repeatedly. "Yes! And it's not just Oreos—I have Lay's chips, Reese's Puffs… all the snacks you would want! Just name it, and I'd have it!" As I spoke, I took out all the snacks I was carrying, and the zombies promptly swarmed forward, munching and tearing up with emotion. "Argh… It's been so long since I've had these! I miss being a benign human!" "These chips are great! I could keep munching on them forever!" That was when the zombie in the lead threw an arm around my neck. "I hence declare that you shall henceforth be the queen of all zombies!" My eyes widened in shock. "M-Me?!"