Mga Maiikling Kuwento at Nobela Pathological

My husband's first love was scalded by boiling water. To punish me, he forced me into a customized steamer half my height, turned the heat to its highest setting, and sealed me inside. "I'll make you feel the pain Jessica suffered a thousand times over!" Trapped in the suffocating space, my breath came in ragged gasps. Heat seared my skin, and my body felt as though it would melt. I sobbed, begging him for mercy. "Please! I'm going to die!" But he didn't look back. Holding his beloved in his arms, he walked away. He even locked the door after he left the room. "Don't worry, you won't die. This is the only way you'll understand Jessica's pain." Despair swallowed me whole. I screamed, my voice raw, but the boiling water beneath me splashed up, scalding my skin, stealing even the strength to cry. He left the country with Jessica that same night. A week passed before he finally remembered my existence. "That wretched woman must have learned her lesson by now. Let her out." What he didn't know was that the water had long since boiled away, the heat had faded, and inside the steamer, my corpse lay rotting—swarmed with maggots.

My fiance, Derrick Lodge, chooses to save me during the typhoon, instead of his first love, Victoria Rayne. My life is saved, but Victoria dies after being struck by flying debris before the rescue team can find her. They aren't even able to find the rest of her body afterward. After going home, Derrick doesn't attend Victoria's funeral and immediately holds a grand wedding for me instead. For the next three years of our marriage, Derrick doesn't stop torturing me because he says that I caused Victoria's death. When I reach my limit and finally ask him for a divorce, Derrick kills me with a gun before killing himself. I open my eyes again and realize that I have traveled back in time. It is the day the typhoon happened, threatening our lives. This time, however, I tell Derrick to save Victoria's life instead.

My wife has suffered from hereditary migraines for years. After three years of marriage, I finally developed a specialized medication just for her. Carrying a lunchbox, I headed to her company, intending to deliver the medicine to her in person. But her secretary mistook me for a kept man. He dumped the contents of the lunchbox over my head, stripped off my clothes in front of everyone, and even made me swallow the only dose of that specialized medicine. "A mere food delivery guy, and you dare dress so indecently? Today, I'll show you exactly what happens to a homewrecker." Then, with a smug grin, he turned to claim credit with my wife. "Ms. Milstein, I took care of that food delivery guy who was trying to seduce you. How are you going to reward me?"

My fated mate, Alpha Rylan, turned cold the moment our bond snapped into place. They all say I'm just a lowly omega. That I'm not good enough for him. I started to believe them. To think my wolf was broken. Maybe this wasn't a mate bond at all, just a pathetic crush. Then, on the day I finally decided to give up, a second wolf awakened in my mind: Echo. She screamed at me that Rylan craved me. That he loved me. And just like that, my hope was rekindled. He hurt me ninety-eight times in seven years. Seventy-seven of those were for his adopted sister, Morrigan. Each time, Echo insisted he just didn't know how to show his love. And favoring Morrigan? That was just to make me jealous. To see that I cared. But the ninety-ninth time was the last straw. He left me for dead in enemy territory. When I woke up, the gift he'd prepared for me was in Morrigan’s hands. I was done. Finally. I called the Elders with a single request: "I want to sever my bond with Alpha Rylan. I'm leaving. For good."

Because her precious Jeremy needed a lab rat, Harper shipped me off to Bendora Mental Health Institute after my surgery. I got electroshocked until I was drooling and twitching, and she? She just slapped her hand over Jeremy's eyes like, "Ew, babe, don't look." Jeremy scored a Research Award nomination off that mess. Harper celebrated with fireworks so loud they could've woken the dead. Meanwhile, I was lying there in the dark, staring up at the sky while they took my leg. To keep it quiet, Jeremy slapped on a prosthetic and threatened me if I ever opened my mouth. He told Harper I just got "a little banged up" in the trial. Numb, I boxed up my leg in a freezer box. Seven days later, at Jeremy's big gala night, guess who would unwrap it like a party favor? Yeah. Harper.

In the fifth year of being locked up in a psychiatric hospital, my husband, Cole Foster, finally agrees to discharge me. But when the ward door is opened, I see multiple cameras aiming at me. "Congratulations, Ms. Lawson. The five-year reality show in the psychiatric hospital has officially come to an end!" R-Reality show? I look thunderstruck by the news. At that moment, Cole, who's supposed to sweep me into a hug, shows up. He says calmly, "Joanna, this is a reality show that Natalie has planned. You're just a trial subject whom I've chosen to help her record this show." 300 million people have participated in the voting session. Just like that, Natalie Jackman becomes the most popular director in the reality show world. Meanwhile, I've gotten electrocuted to the point I keep shuddering violently. It's a norm for me to drool subconsciously and go into lapses of haziness from time to time. Cole personally unlocks the handcuffs that have bound me for the past five years. "Now that the show is over, you may go home."

I had been married for five years, but my belly remained flat—no sign of a child. Then, on my 35th birthday, I suddenly found out I was pregnant. When I shared the good news with my husband, he flew into a rage. Instead of being happy, he accused me of carrying someone else's baby. Only then did I learn he had a mistress. He even claimed he wanted a "real" child—one that truly belonged to him—with her. I thought he was just being irrational and would eventually come to his senses. After getting an amniocentesis, I immediately brought him the paternity test results to prove the baby was his. He came home acting like a changed man—hugging me, kissing me, claiming that he didn't cheat on me. The very next day, he booked a hotel and threw a banquet, announcing to all our friends and family that he was going to be a father. However, when his mistress saw the news, she completely lost it. She showed up with a group of people, blocked me in the street, and—despite my pregnancy—started punching and kicking me. "You shameless woman! How dare you carry my man's child? Are you that desperate to die?"

I married the same man nine times. And each time, he left me for his first love, divorcing me nine times as well. The first time we parted, I lost control and threw all his belongings out the door. By the fourth divorce, I begged him to leave his luggage behind out of fear he might never return. The eighth time, I had learned to obediently pack his things, careful not to upset him. My breakdowns, my pleas, and my obedience always brought him back to me. Each time, he honored his promises. And each time, we divorced again, just like before. Until this time. This time, I packed my own things and left without telling him. A month from now, I will be gone for good.

My CEO wife, Vivian Lynch, suffers from chronic insomnia and can only fall asleep with the pillow mists I make. At our seventh wedding anniversary dinner, her male best friend, Earl Cain, pours a basin of hot water onto the old cypress tree in the backyard. I rush to save the tree in tears. Earl gets on his knees and apologizes, "I'm sorry, Allen. I did not know that you use this tree's leaves to make the pillow mists." Vivian comforts him gently and orders her men to tie me to the trunk of the tree. She says with a scoff, "If this tree is so precious, then you can spend your life guarding it!" After I hurt my hands from this ordeal, the first thing I do is to demand a divorce. On one night a month later, Vivian, who is unable to sleep, goes to the backyard and sees the withered old cypress tree there.

My wife, Alayna Watson, is childish as ever even though we've been married for eight years. From time to time, she'll use her prank toys on me just to trick me. Oftentimes, I just toss the toys into the store without thinking much about them. A few days later, when I'm cleaning the house, I suddenly remember the box that Alayna has pranked me with, so I decide to throw it away. When I open the lid, I smell a foul odor wafting from within the box. A severed arm lies quietly there. I slump to the floor instantly out of alarm and shock. With trembling fingers, I manage to call 911. When the DNA results are out, the police officer shows a weird and conflicted expression. "Sir, the DNA we've extracted from this arm… belongs to Alayna Watson."”

In the fifth year since Ethan used the Wishing Willow to make me obsessively, madly in love with him, he finally got sick of it. He was sick of my nonstop check-in texts, of me hiring investigators to track his location over and over. Most of all, he couldn't stand the fact that every time I found out he was somewhere other than his office or our home, I'd show up and put a silver blade through every woman who got too close to him. After I nearly stabbed Barbara again, he didn't care that I was falling apart. He went straight to Barbara's apartment without looking back. I stood outside the door and watched him gently touch the cut I'd left on Barbara's arm, guilt all over his face. "I can't take Lydia's nonstop surveillance anymore. I really can't, Barbara." On the sofa, Barbara held up the Wishing Willow that had been tossed into a corner. "Remember the Wishing Willow? Why not try breaking it?" "I just want you to be happy." Ethan gave a tired, helpless smile, but he went along with her and picked up the Wishing Willow. He snapped it in half. "If it's possible, let Lydia leave my life for good." What Ethan didn't know was that the moment the new Wishing Willow broke, the demon's hold on my body was released. Just as he wished, that same night I drank the bond-breaking potion on my own and lost every memory of ever loving him. From that moment on, we had nothing to do with each other.

My son, Damian Stone, has mild asthma. The doctor has recommended that he train his lungs through light swimming, and it so happens that Damian loves swimming. I've donated five million dollars to Damian's school for a temperature-controlled swimming arena and full-range purifier system because of this. I've even paid a professional safety officer to disinfect and keep an eye on the arena daily. But one day, when I head to Damian's school earlier than usual to pick him up, I find him locked up in the equipment room. He's soaking wet and has his arms wrapped around his trembling knees while using his inhaler. The doors of the swimming arena I've donated have a notice stuck on them that reads: "For Timothy's private use only. No freeloaders allowed."

After lights-out, I make my roommates play with an Ouija board with me. Being the scaredy-cat she is, my roommate decides to ask something stupid, "Where did my earphones go?" I almost burst out laughing. I can't believe she's using it to find her earphones. To our surprise, the planchette starts to move. It spells out, "It's under your bed beside the eye." We exchange glances in confusion. What eye? I snort and get out of bed. Using my phone's flashlight, I check under the bed. Nothing is there. Before I can make fun of my roommate for being superstitious, the door slams open. The student who stays next door barges into our room, her face as pale as a sheet. Her voice trembles as she shouts, "Wake up! Everyone on campus is going wild! Someone found an eyeball in our dorm!"

William Parker is a mafia boss. Everyone knows that I'm his weak spot. When I was abducted back in the day, he gave everything he had—including his gun—and ran the risk of being shot to get me back. To keep me from being bullied or mistreated, he's constantly toeing the line between the authorities and the underworld. After I fall pregnant, he's by my side around the clock and doesn't even let my feet touch the ground. Rumor has it that he has a secret lover that he dotes on to no end, but I've never believed it… until she appears before me to challenge me. William slices one of his fingers off to beg for my forgiveness. The very next day, his secret lover throws a pregnancy test in my face. "Will's so desperate to knock me up that he can't keep his hands off me—I can't take it anymore!"

I grew up starved for affection. So when I started dating an insanely controlling boyfriend, I acted scared, resistant, and constantly on edge. But secretly? I loved every second of it. He made me report where I was at all times. Checking my phone was routine. Deleting people from my contacts was practically a habit. Other people would’ve found it suffocating. All I felt was loved. But lately, he’d changed. His instant replies turned into hours of waiting. He used to check up on me three times a day. Then it became once every three days. Eventually, he stopped checking altogether. I felt disappointed. And hurt. Then one day, I suddenly heard his thoughts. [She’s too obedient. It’s boring.] [She wasn’t like this before. She’s getting more and more boring.] I stared blankly at my phone. The screen lit up. A message had just come in from my first love. The dangerously possessive one who had always been completely obsessed with me. 'Baby, I’m back.'

When my mother falls gravely ill, my husband, who has asthenospermia, promises to help me think of something. So, I give him all my savings. Despite being pregnant, I get a part-time job doing DoorDash deliveries. However, I see my husband when I pass by a realtor's office. He's supposed to be hard at work like me, but he's buying a place for his childhood friend. He even has his arm around her. "That old hag thinks I only earn that little each month. Don't worry, Yvette. I only give her 10% of what I earn. The rest goes to you!" I hold back my tears and grab the hem of his shirt, wanting to borrow some money for my mother's treatment. However, he shoves me away irritably. "I give you 2000 dollars a month! Isn't that enough? Have you spent it all on useless things?" He leaves without another look back, ignoring my cries and pleas. He also kicks me, effectively murdering the child he's always dreamed of having. Later, he grovels at my feet and begs for forgiveness. It's too bad I've already given up on him. I don't want him anymore.

The rideshare I was in broke down on a mountain road. None of our phones had a signal, so we couldn't even make a call. We waited from midnight until 3 a.m., but not a single car passed by. After it started raining, we had no choice but to get back into the car. That's when we noticed the female passenger in the front seat was still asleep. "Do you want something to eat?" the driver asked as he pulled out a few sandwiches and gently tapped her shoulder. Her body suddenly tilted to one side. Then she collapsed. The driver jumped in fright and tried to help her up. But the moment he leaned closer, his face turned pale. "She's dead!" he screamed. His frantic movements twisted the woman's head around until she was facing us. The dim light inside the car fell across her face. Her eyes were wide open. Blood was still running from the corner of her mouth. We all screamed and rushed out of the car. I followed them outside. Then I looked at the others and said coldly, "Let's introduce ourselves."

To make money and support the little life growing inside me, I took a part-time job as a maternity model. But when I got there, I realized I was trapped in a glass cage, put on display like a product. And in the crowd below, my ex-mate, Damon, watched me with nothing but contempt in his eyes. "Whose bastard is it?" "How could you say that? This is your child, Damon!" Damon's eyes turned red—a sign of an impending werewolf frenzy. He held up a paternity test in front of me. It showed that the baby I was carrying was not his. "No, that can’t be true.” I stammered. “This must be a mistake! " Before Damon could respond, a man beside him spoke, "Alpha Damon, the auction is about to start. If you have anything to say, you can do so after the auction." Auction? Kelly had clearly told me this was just a photoshoot.

Ava sacrificed her wolf to save Cole from a fire, only to be rejected by him three years later for the sister who stole the credit. Heartbroken but unbroken, Ava accepts the rejection and vanishes. She finds sanctuary with the feared Alpha King Kaelen, a man rumored to be a monster but who treats her like a goddess. As Ava heals and discovers her true power, Cole's pack falls into chaos. When Cole finally discovers the truth, that the woman he called weak was his true savior all along, he is shattered. He demands her back. He threatens war. But he forgets one thing: Ava is no longer just a rejected mate. She is the King's obsession. And the Alpha King does not share.

I give my grandmother a gift she'll never forget on her 60th birthday. My husband and I get into a fight on the highway back to my hometown. He pulls over in the emergency lane and chases me out of the car. He then drives off, leaving me stranded on the highway. He later gets into a major accident on the highway. His car is totaled, and he dies. It's actually not an accident—it's homicide. I'm the murderer.