Male POV Imagination Short Stories & Face Slapping Novels

When the extreme-heat apocalypse arrived, surface temperatures reached 158°F, and the first group of people began moving to Frostpoint Base. As a scientist, my wife had two spots to bring family members with her. Everyone thought she would take me without hesitation. But in the end, she put the name of her graduate student on the application. "He's my student, and he doesn't have his parents with him. I can't bear to leave him alone in a place this hot." She submitted the application without a second thought. Her next words chilled me to the bone. "Ethan, you're different. You've been tough since you were a kid. I know you can survive until the second group is evacuated." I forced a bitter smile and said nothing. That night, as I watched the temperature continue to rise, I calmly made a phone call. "You once told me you would grant me one wish, no matter what it was. Does that promise still stand?"

I drove rideshare for five years to support my girlfriend. Then a car put me in the hospital, and she pointed at me and said: "We're just friends." Overseas, hanging off her rich new boyfriend, she looked down at me and said, "Blake didn't mean to hit you. Quit while you're ahead, take the money, and get lost." I smiled, grabbed him by the hair, and put his head into the wall. After they deported me, the Ride-to-Real-Estate System woke up in my head. A few years later I was the richest man in the world, living off rent, and the gold digger came crawling back. "You got even more handsome." My new little sister laughed out loud. "Honestly, I'm jealous of her complexion. She lays it on so thick."

I was diagnosed with stage-two stomach cancer. A lie from my wife had caused me to miss the best window for treatment. “You’re saying I was diagnosed with early-stage cancer six months ago, and my wife knew about it?” The doctor pulled up my old test results and turned the monitor toward me. “We repeatedly told your wife that early-stage cancer has a very high cure rate. One of our physician assistants even called to follow up. She told us you’d already started treatment at another hospital.” I felt as though the ground had vanished beneath my feet. Six months ago, my wife had assured me that my physical exam showed nothing wrong. The doctor looked at me sympathetically. “Fortunately, it hasn’t progressed to the final stage yet. With aggressive treatment, you still have a chance.” I stumbled out of the hospital in a daze. Then I suddenly remembered the strange charm I’d stumbled upon by chance. Could cancer be transferred, too?

I've just booked a restaurant for my seventh wedding anniversary with my wife, Melanie Rowland, when several lines of text suddenly appear across my vision. "Would you like to take part in a loyalty test? "We'll randomly give your wife a system. If she tells you about it, you win, and the two of you will receive one million dollars." After seven years of marriage, I have no doubt Melanie loves me. As far as I'm concerned, that million dollars is already in the bag. Still, I'm curious enough to ask one question. "What if we lose?" "If you lose, it proves your marriage has failed. In return, you'll receive a mystery prize big enough to let you start your life over. "The price of participating is allowing people from another dimension to watch you. Choose carefully." I couldn't care less about the mystery prize. I'm already planning to use the million dollars to buy Melanie the condo she's had her eye on for ages. After I agree to join the game, I hurry home. The moment I walk in, I catch a flash of panic on Melanie's face. She brushes me off with a few vague excuses and hurries into the study. Through the closed door, I hear her talking to Hayden Locke, the guy she grew up with. "Hayden, I just got an apocalypse system. It says the end of the world is coming. I'm going to find somewhere to build a safe house, and I promise I'll keep you safe. Don't worry. I won't tell Alex a word. "When the world ends, it'll be you and me together." I freeze. Her apocalypse system is fake, but the countdown to my mystery prize has probably already begun.

I was attending my daughter Wendy's autumn camp when I overheard her whispering to her best friend, "Don't be picky with your food, or Ms. Adams will kill you. That's why she killed Carl." Shocked, I scooped her up in my arms and ran to Carl's mother. However, she pointed at a healthy Carl who was hopping around, grinning, "What? But Carl is no longer a fussy eater. He eats everything I cook these days!" Relieved, I was about to turn and scold my daughter when she hissed, "That's not Carl! Carl is allergic to shrimp!"

My buddy, Adam Page, calls me and says that his mom is hospitalized, and he can't rush back in time. He asks me to submit his competition entry that is due tonight. We're both in the competition, but I have already submitted my entry. I'm just about to say yes to helping him when my mouse suddenly jerks. "Don't you dare click it! If you submit his entry for him, you'll lose your first-place prize and the 20,000 dollars prize money! He'll even go on livestream and accuse you of stealing his work, saying that you cost him the prize money and caused his mom to die because she couldn't afford treatment. You'll be torn apart by online bullying, saddled with a huge debt, and end up losing everything!" My hands shake, and I immediately stop what I'm doing. My mouse jerks again. I close the page, create a group chat on WhatsApp, and add the advisor, Colby Jackman, and the teacher, Irene Dawson, who is in charge of the project.

Legend had it that Shaffer Mansion was haunted. Only I knew the stories were true, because I was born with the ability to see through paranormal illusions. When a reality show moved its production crew into the mansion, the only thing anyone noticed was a little boy in overalls. He looked innocent and harmless, but he was actually a puppet controlled by the demon lurking inside the mansion. Behind that innocent face was the most dangerous presence in the entire house. The first time I'd lived through this nightmare, I'd done everything I could to protect the girls I'd grown up with. I'd warned them to stay away from the boy and throw away every gift he gave them. Instead of listening, they had thought I was jealous of the child and accused me of bullying him. Eventually, the boy had left behind a letter claiming he couldn't take my abuse anymore and threw himself from the roof. When the filming had wrapped up, all of them had walked out of Shaffer Mansion alive. But then, they had joined forces with their fans, destroyed my reputation, and eventually dragged me back to the mansion. They had pushed me from the same building and watched me fall to my death. When I opened my eyes again, I found myself back in time. This time around, I was quitting the show and letting them deal with the consequences of their own choices.

The day I took over the Ashford family, a man from another world took over my body. He used my identity as head of the Ashford family to fawn over my three adoptive sisters and devote himself to winning them over. "The original owner of this body was far too cold-hearted. A thoughtful man like me, who knows how to treat women well, is the one who can win their hearts." But his efforts ended with my three adoptive sisters pushing him into the ocean after the nanny’s son shed a few tears. When I opened my eyes again, my two sisters were already storming in to accuse me. "Stop pretending. You knew Cade is afraid of water, yet you still pushed him into the pool.” "You only swallowed a few mouthfuls of water. Don’t think this little pity act will win you any sympathy!" "Kneel down and apologize to Cade right now." "Smack!" I slapped them both across the face. Then I wiped my hands. "When did the people living under my roof start thinking they could challenge me? The Blackridge mining project needs workers. You two will do."