Male POV Imagination 단편 소설 & 소설

I went to the hospital for a minor surgery, but when I woke up, I found myself locked inside a psychiatric hospital. Just as I was about to look for a doctor or nurse to explain the situation, the intercom suddenly buzzed. “There are currently 40 patients in this facility. The administration has discovered that impostors have infiltrated the group and are using up shared resources. “Starting today, there will be one public vote each day. Everyone will work together to vote out the impostor. Anyone voted out will be executed on the spot. “The voting period will last five days. If all impostors are eliminated within five days, the patients win and are allowed to survive. “If the game ends and any impostors remain undetected, all patients will be wiped out and the surviving impostors will be safely released from the facility.”

An accident gives me the ability to hear people's thoughts. My wife, Keira Walker, is a chief cardiac surgeon, and my best friend, Gabriel Pearce, is her intern. Afraid I'll lose hope, they take turns caring for me, staying by my side even through rehabilitation. Touched by their devotion, I throw myself into recovery. Then one day, Keira peels an apple for me while Gabriel massages my withered legs. Inside my head, two voices ring out loud and clear. [How did that crash not kill him? I drained the brake fluid, but this bastard survived.] [Guess we need a new plan. Good thing I already swapped his meds. His body will give out on its own.] As I stare at the apple Keira offers, a knot tightens in my throat. The crash is no accident. Clenching my fists, I look up and smile at them. "Did I take my meds today?" They exchange a glance, and Keira nods tenderly. "Not yet. Let me feed you."

During the freshman orientation, Fletcher Stone, the campus heartthrob, leads a protest in front of the orientation leader, Lindsey Quinn. As a result, Lindsey decides to make everyone run laps around the field. While Fletcher has volunteered to run everyone's laps on his own, the truth is, he has transferred the fatigue to me. He finishes his 30-mile run without a shift in his expression. After that, he tells Lindsey that he's willing to take on everyone's orientation training on his own. Because of that, everyone becomes Fletcher's fans. I, on the other hand, keep getting admitted into the infirmary because of exhaustion, which results in me being late to the orientation. My tardiness ends up affecting our class' chances of receiving a good rank. I get berated by the entire class as a result. When I try to explain my condition to everyone, they all look at me as though I were crazy. "You've barely attended the orientation for a few days, so how is it possible for you to be this exhausted? I think you're just pretending to be exhausted!" "Are you jealous of Fletcher because he's way fitter and more handsome than you? Now, he's even more popular than you!" Driven by despair, I demand answers from Fletcher. But he just changes into his uniform nonchalantly. "Please step out of my way. I need to go on a weighted cross-country run as the college's representative, so I have no time to fool around with you." Once Fletcher is done with the run in the 104-degree weather, his expression remains cool and collected. But I'm so exhausted that I suffer from organ failure, leading to my immediate death. When I open my eyes again, I've returned to the first day of the freshman orientation. This time, I decide to take the initiative to report to Lindsey. "I'll take on the punishment for the entire class."

For a $5 million research stipend, I agreed to let the System install an empathic link inside my body. "Subject. Are you sure you want to proceed? Once installed, the procedure cannot be reversed. This is a prototype. Side effects are not fully characterized." I looked at the sidewalk-stall clothes my girlfriend Cara Lake had bought herself, and the drugstore-grade makeup on her vanity. I nodded. That night, while she was out at her bar job. A current came up out of nowhere inside me. My whole body lit up with a sickening pleasure that did not belong to me. Seven times. A few days later I waited near the club where she worked. I overheard her with her friends. "Cara. You're something else. Pouring La Prairie into a plastic bag and using it like that? Faking poor like a champion. Doesn't Adam ever notice?" "Notice? He's stupid. He'll believe anything I say. His father got hit by a car, lay in bed without the money for treatment, died alone. I told Adam I couldn't help. He stayed up all night comforting me. I almost died laughing." The laughter went into me like a knife. I got out of there. The tears came on the walk home. I picked up the phone. "Professor. I'll go to the classified institute. I'll go now."

When I am choosing who to be my fiancée, comments pop up before my eyes. "Skylar, do not choose Gwen Moore! She is a daddy's girl. If you marry her, her father will make your life miserable." "Choose Laura Colson. She may be an illegitimate daughter now and not valued, but she will rise to power and become the head of the Colson family!" In my previous life, I believe the comments and choose Laura. After the marriage, she abuses me. I end up in the hospital again and again. Once, I cannot endure it anymore and escape back home. Brandon Stone, the illegitimate son who marries Gwen in my place, stands beside my father and berates me openly. "Skylar, why do you always upset Laura? You are so immature! Do you not know how powerful the Colson family is now?" My father looks displeased as well. "Why do you keep coming back when you're already married? Send him back!" In the end, Laura beats me to death after I am sent back to the Colson residence. After being reborn, I see those fake comments again. This time, I will not just sit around and await my impending doom.

On the day of my wedding to Christine Moore, strange floating comments suddenly appeared before my eyes. [LMAO, the real young master still has no idea the bride is fake! Christine is at the hospital accompanying the fake heir Troy Bolton right now!] [It doesn’t matter who the bride is anyway. Christine only agreed to the marriage for the Shane family’s investment. The fake heir is her true love.] [Serves this villain right for driving our poor Troy away the moment he came back. In the end, the female lead destroys his entire family, and honestly, he deserves it.] I hid the shock in my eyes and finished the wedding as if nothing had happened. I refused to become a stepping stone in someone else’s love story. And I definitely refused to die as their disposable villain. If she did not want to marry me, then fine. I would make the fake wedding real, and marry someone else instead.

I finally hit the jackpot and won ten million dollars. But in my excitement, I slipped on a stray beer bottle and freakin' died! When I opened my eyes again, I had reincarnated as the useless heir of a washed-up, ruined noble family. Suddenly, a voice chimed in my head. [Cold-Hearted Empress Conquest System initiated! Host, please present flowers to the Empress!] I absolutely lost my mind. "Screw off! I hadn't even cashed out my ten million dollars, and you want me to play some stupid dating sim? This is a scam. I’m out!" With no other choice, the system reluctantly compromised. [If you can make the empress fall madly in love with you, your reward will be one hundred million dollars and a ticket back home!] Hey, who actually turns down that kind of cash? Game on! I will be the ultimate simp if that’s what it takes. Armed with world-class strategies and modern tech, I launched a national development plan. Building infrastructure and saving the kingdom? Easy money. Soon enough, the empress’s look of pure disgust turned into absolute obsession. She was practically begging me to rule the empire right alongside her. Just as the system announced my victory and prepared to send me home, I realized only kids choose between options. The cash, the empress... I’m keeping both! Smirking, I used my maxed-out system points to rewrite the source code and force open a permanent portal between our worlds. "Hey, are you the manufacturer? I need ten excavators delivered straight to the portal coordinates. My wife needs to expand her palace!"

I am a real estate agent. For the past three years, I have been the top seller in the industry. It is not because I am a smooth talker; it is because I can hear houses speak. The houses will chatter about a hollow wall, a leaking pipe, or a window with a bad seal. During move-out inspections, I point out exactly what tenants try to hide. When showing a place to renters, I warn them about hidden red flags. I have been doing this so long that both sides treat me like family. Then, one Friday, a regular client, Eleanor Wilson, shows up. "Devan, the tenants at the Eastmere place are moving out." Eleanor is in her 60s. Her husband is long gone, and she lives off the rental income. She is a sweet soul. She charges 20% below market rate and even makes cookies for her tenants during the holidays. The couple moving out this time is Henry Johnson and his wife. They run a fruit stand at the local market and have a six-year-old daughter, Lea Johnson. "Lea is missing," Eleanor says, her eyes welling with tears. "She vanished outside the market last month. Just like that, in the blink of an eye. Henry and his wife have been searching for a month. They're worn out and broke. They just can't take it anymore." A heaviness settles in my chest at her words. I grab the keys and head out with her. Eleanor gasps for air with every flight of stairs we climb. I walk ahead of her. The moment I slide the key into the lock of Apartment 602, the doorknob vibrates violently against my palm. A second later, I dial 911. "I want to report a case of murder. There's a hidden body on the sixth floor of 18 Montclair Heights, Eastmere. The victim is their daughter."

I accidentally spent the night with a wealthy heiress from Kingscourt after she was drugged. The next morning, I panicked and slipped away before she woke up. The following day, her childhood friend came to find me. He handed me a check for one million dollars and told me to leave the country. My eyes practically lit up. Just as I was about to take the check, I suddenly heard his thoughts. "Once he accepts the money, I'll report him for extortion and send him straight to prison. "Then I'll tell Valerie Cooper that I was the man from that night, marry into the family myself, and let him rot in jail." A chill ran down my spine. Well, he should've said so earlier. I can still tell the difference between one million dollars... and a lifetime of wealth and luxury.

I didn’t get into college, so I took a job driving a city bus. Once I finished training, I started working the night shift with Uncle Tim. He had always been the kind of guy who followed every rule. But that night, he wouldn’t let me pick up a single passenger. He even made me keep the bus dark the entire route. Uncle Tim died shortly after that incident. A few days later, someone told me something that made my blood run cold. Uncle Tim had actually been dead for quite some time. So who the hell had been riding with me that night?

While inspecting my company’s cold-chain operations, my wife, Mandy Snow, and the college boy, Jonas Leedon, who I’d been sponsoring suddenly vanished. As I passed the cabinet storing the research supplies, a stream of floating comments suddenly flashed before my eyes. [That was way too close! Jeff Miller almost caught them. Good thing Mandy reacted fast and dragged her boy toy into the storage cabinet.] [But that cabinet is about to be locked up and shipped to the Antarctic research station. Are those two trying to turn themselves into ice sculptures?] I froze. My wife was cheating on me right under my nose? I was just about to pull open the cabinet door when my wife’s assistant, Patrick, hurried over and forced a smile, blocking my way. “Mr. Miller, the seal on this cabinet was just waxed and hasn’t dried yet. Careful, or you’ll get your hands dirty.” The floating comments appeared again. [That was so close! The assistant’s pretty sharp. Once Mandy gets out, she totally owes him a car.] [No wonder she’s the lucky heroine. She always gets out of trouble. I seriously can’t wait to watch her sweet romance with her boy toy.] Looking at the comments in front of me, I let out a cold laugh. “These are critical supplies for the research team. To make sure nothing goes wrong, seal the cabinet right now.” “Go get a welder. Weld the door shut.” The assistant froze, and so did the floating comments. [What the hell? This evil male character is brutal. The two people inside aren’t wearing a thing.] [Help! If the door gets welded shut, the male and female leads are going to drift at sea for a month and freeze into specimens!]

On the day my older brother, Morgan Slater, is supposed to register his marriage with Savannah Reed, he doesn't show up at the city hall at all. Instead, he calls me, who's there to hype up the atmosphere as the best man. "Savannah is a fake heiress. She's even poorer than me now. Why would I marry her?" After ending the call, I see two comments floating in front of me all of a sudden. [Morgan really is stupid! The paternity test has it all wrong! Savannah is the real deal!] [He has already reached the marriage stage! I can't believe he actually lets the real heiress slip through his fingers just like that!] I instantly turn around to see Savannah standing in a corner on her own. Despite having gotten kicked out of the Reed family, the cheap dress does little to conceal her charm. After giving it some thought, I approach her, knowing full well that I resemble Morgan a lot when it comes to my looks. "Sorry, but Morgan won't be coming today," I say bluntly. Savannah seems to have expected that outcome. All she does is hum in response. "My family has wronged you this time. If you don't mind, is it okay if I marry you instead?" Savannah narrows her eyes at me. Her gaze flits over my face, which is similar to Morgan's. Morgan spends the day looking for another rich woman to marry. As for me, I've already registered my marriage with Savannah and become the official son-in-law of the Reeds.

On Valentine’s Day, I received a package with postage due. Inside the box was nothing but a rusted copper coin and a single sheet of paper. The handwriting was unmistakably my late wife’s. 'Hold this coin. Come at midnight. Pay one year of your life.' I assumed it was some kind of prank and casually tossed the coin onto the coffee table. But suddenly, the copper coin flipped over by itself. I didn’t know what came over me, but then, I clenched the coin in my hand and went back to the intersection where my wife had died. At exactly midnight, the coin burned hot against my palm. Then it started to shake. Through the heavy rain, the familiar white sedan appeared out of thin air. My wife was in the driver’s seat, smiling like she used to. And beside her sat another me, looking at her with all the tenderness I never got to show her again. Neither of them knew that in ten seconds, everything would end. It was the final three minutes I had missed forever. And the final three minutes I would be trapped in forever. And on the back of the coin, two bloody words slowly appeared: 'First Time.'

When my wife, Anna Smith, and I went back to her hometown for the New Year’s, her male best friend, Liam Reid, barged into our bedroom. Late at night, he suddenly unbuttoned his top and exposed his bare chest. “Anna, my imaginary bosom hurts. Please massage them to make me feel better!” Anna wanted to massage his chest when I flipped the tumbler over next to our bed in frustration. Anna’s face immediately fell. She glared at me in hatred as she roared, “He’s experiencing a psychological issue due to hormonal imbalance. Do you even know science? Why is your mind in the gutter?” Liam pretended to cry as he sobbed, “Sawyer, don’t blame Anna. We’re best friends, and we’re basically sisters. “It’s my fault. If I had been born with a real bosom, I’d definitely stay away from Anna.” I looked at his fake demeanor and smirked. I did not tell them that I had obtained a wish stone, and that it allowed me to change one bodily structure. Since Liam desperately wanted to be a woman, I would make his wish come true by giving him a huge bosom. He could massage them however he wanted.

An overpass in Winfeld that's still under construction ends up collapsing, leading to the deaths of many. Family members of the victims are up in arms, demanding that the person in charge pay the price for the incident. As the quality assurance inspector, I'm brought to court. However, I am just an intern. The real perpetrators are out clinking glasses, celebrating a clean getaway and the fact that they have a new scapegoat. Out of nowhere, the court introduces a new trial system that involves the extraction of memories directly from one's mind. In the middle of this major incident, a terrifying truth emerges. Everything goes all the way back to my university days…

I can see how much time people have left to live, so I warn my wife, Kayla Jebb, that her first love, Sebastian Miller, is about to die. She calls me a jinx and knocks my teeth out herself, making sure I'll never speak again. With my mouth full of rotting flesh, I beg her to help me, but she walks away, satisfied with the outcome. Instead, she heads to the hospital to take care of a sickly Sebastian. A month later, Kayla returns to the villa with a fully recovered Sebastian, as if to prove how foolish I was. When I see that Kayla has only one day left to live, I say nothing and simply smile.

When I joined my pregnant wife at her class reunion, I heard the thoughts of her male bestie. 'Once she kicks her bum husband to the curb, the money's all mine!' He was snuggling up to my wife, raising his glass in salutations with a perfect smile, but I still caught the flicker of disgust in his eyes. 'Stupid sow thinks I'm in love with her? Who would care about her if it weren't for her money?' He had no idea that Mary's family had gone bankrupt long ago, and her life of luxury now was all thanks to me!

On the day of their wedding, Caleb Graham unexpectedly finds himself on a call with Danielle Sutton—six years into the future. His eyes gleam with undisguised longing as he asks, "Danielle, do you remember? Today is our wedding day." Suddenly, a child's voice rings out from the other end of the line. "Mommy." Caleb is instantly overwhelmed with joy. He can hardly believe how much their child has grown. Tears well up in his eyes, and his voice trembles with anticipation. "Danielle, we have a happy future together, don't we?" All he can think about is the beautiful life they enjoy together as a family of three. It seems that all his hard work is finally paying off. After all, he is the one who has discovered Danielle in the slums all those years ago, secured projects for her, and invested substantial resources in cultivating her into one of the most influential rising stars among Kingsford City's elite. Yet, in the very next second, a man's voice cuts sharply into his ears. "Ellie, who are you talking to?" Ellie? Caleb's smile vanishes in an instant. Despite spending so many years together, he has never once called Danielle by that nickname. The familiar voice, paired with that uniquely intimate nickname, points to only one person—Yale Lawson, Danielle's longtime best friend!

It was the twentieth year of the zombie apocalypse. Resources were scarce, but I still used half of my savings to buy flowers to propose to my girlfriend. However, she turned around and linked arms with my brother, telling me arrogantly, "You're just a poor loser who stole someone else's superpower. You're not worthy of me. I'm marrying the real owner of the superpower. He's really strong, so get lost, you simp." I was stunned. The "real owner" she was talking about was my own brother. He could only use his spatial power because I shared it with him. Watching them shamelessly mock me in front of other people, I silently unlinked my brother from the superpower sharing system. Let's see how strong he could be now!

When the real son, Henry Sylvester, is finally brought back to the family, I, the non-biological child who's taken his place, am already prepared to pack my bags and leave. Instead of letting me go, Henry calls me up to the sixth-floor terrace of the villa and pushes me over the edge. "You've stolen my life for 18 years, Marcel. You should be grateful." I don't struggle. In fact, I deliberately fall headfirst. At that moment, I believe I'm destined to die, but I end up surviving. The doctors even call it a miracle. A fall from the sixth floor should've been fatal, yet I only suffered minor bone dislocations and no other serious injuries. When the Sylvester family asks why I jumped, I tell them the truth about Henry pushing me. Instead of believing me, my elder brother laughs in my face. He shields the meek and frightened-looking Henry from me and warns me not to slander his real brother. The Sylvester couple looks at me with nothing but disappointment. They're convinced I've brought this upon myself and even ask why I haven't chosen somewhere higher to jump from. Frankly, their suggestion makes sense. So, I go to the tenth floor, ready to jump and start my life over. Suddenly, a mechanical voice rings out in my head. "Marcel, this is your seventh attempt at suicide. Are you really going through with it?"