Short Stories & Novels

When I asked Avery to settle the bill for tearing down her walls, she jammed her car keys and a bank card into my hands instead. “There’s thirty million in this account. No password required.” While I was racking my brain trying to figure out how to give her change, I looked up and saw her clutching her pregnant belly, running straight for the balcony where I had just knocked down the guardrail. I dropped my sledgehammer, dove forward, and grabbed her by the ankle. “Don’t jump! If you jump, I become the prime suspect! I have an elderly mother and young kids to feed—you can’t ruin my life like this!” She kicked frantically, screaming in absolute despair. “My dad was practically sent to the ICU because of my ex! He even drugged me to try to force a miscarriage just so his mistress could move in! “He said someone like me deserves to be conned. I have nothing left now. I’m better off dead!” Ah, so she was just a poor soul systematically broken by a toxic scumbag. I slammed my sledgehammer onto the floor. “Why destroy yourself when you can destroy them instead? “Ever heard of the Scumbag Demolition Project? Not only will I get your house back, but I’ll also send him straight to federal prison to spend the rest of his life behind bars.”

Ever since I was little, my dad taught me that no matter what happened, I should put my studies and exams as my top priority. When I was eight, I accidentally broke my leg during gym class, but my dad insisted that I finish that day’s class before taking me to get it treated. When the doctor said I was brought in too late and would have to be hospitalized, my dad looked troubled. “Third grade is a crucial transition period in elementary school. My child absolutely cannot waste any time right now!” So, I went to school in a wheelchair during the day and returned to my hospital room at night to finish my homework. When I was discharged, I was left with a lasting condition. Ever since then, I walked with a slight limp. When I was eleven, I ran a high fever of 102 degrees and started babbling incoherently. But my dad took forever to arrive. The teacher was so anxious that she took me to the hospital first, only to be berated by my dad when he finally showed up. “The transition from elementary to middle school is a critical moment for a child’s future. If my son, Teleus Costa, misses these three classes, just think how far behind the other kids he’ll fall!” Even though I had not fully recovered, my dad sent me back to school the very next day. From then on, I suffered from severe myocarditis. At seventeen, I developed a serious heart condition that put me at risk of sudden death at any moment. But my dad insisted I wait until after the SATs to seek treatment. “The SATs are the pivotal moment that determines your future. Missing even one class at such a time is tantamount to suicide!” One night during evening study hall, my heart seized up again, and I stumbled down the stairs. Lying in a pool of blood, I mustered my last ounce of strength to press the emergency contact button on my smartwatch to call for help. But on the other end, I heard my father’s voice. “There’s still one more session of evening study hall left. Can’t you just hang in there until it’s over?” ‘Dad, I’m sorry, but I don’t think I could make it,’ I thought.

After carrying my girlfriend, Vera Lane, to bed, she suddenly snuggles into my arms. "Your roommate seems pretty wild. Give me his number." I freeze and glance at her. She casually pulls the blanket over herself. "We're getting married sooner or later, but don't you think it's pretty boring to be with only one person forever? I don't want to sacrifice my freedom for you." I watch her for a long moment. Then, I push her hand away and nod. On the day I move out, she stands in the doorway, frowning in annoyance. "Yves, didn't we agree we could see other people? Why are you mad?" I pick up my suitcase. "Nope, that's not who I am." Soon, she gets tired of that lifestyle and comes running back to me. I glance at the wedding band on my hand and smile. "Sorry, I've already moved on." The world is full of choices. If I don't want her anymore, I'll choose someone else. I deserve nothing less than the best.

After my parents have passed away, I drop out of school and spend the next ten years working my butt off so that I can put my younger sister, Delilah Scott, through school. When Delilah scores a total of 1550 on her SATs, I can't help but shed happy tears for her. After holding a grand celebratory party, I see live comments streaking in front of my eyes all of a sudden. "I'm so excited! Today, Lils will be spending her first night with Doug!" The sight of the first comment leaves me stunned. At first, I think I'm just seeing things. But the second comment soon flashes in front of me. "This is all Lils' fault for getting into a fight with Doug right before their SATs! Doug got mad at her and ended up scribbling her name all over his exam papers, causing him to score a big fat zero on everything! Poor Lils is overwhelmed by so much guilt that she has secretly changed her application for her dream university to the community college Doug will be studying at! "Tonight, Lils will be giving her virginity to Doug just to comfort him! Once they start college, they'll be busy popping out babies one after another. After graduation, they'll inherit Lils' older sister's company right away and live happily ever after as a married couple!" The moment the comments vanish before my eyes, I see Delilah walking out of her room. "Trish, I'm sleeping over at my best friend's house tonight, so I won't be coming home."

After we lost our baby just three days after birth, I dropped every habit that made Julian frown. I stopped asking where he went. Even when he stayed out all night, I could still sleep soundly. Even when a stray bullet grazed my wrist during a street shootout and the doctor asked me to notify my next of kin, I simply said, "I don't have any family." A nurse recognized me. "You're Mrs. Marchetti, right? Mr. Julian's motorcade is parked downstairs. Should I go let him know?" I lowered my eyes and told her not to bother. Half an hour later, Julian pushed the door open anyway. He was dressed in an expensive suit, his voice a low murmur. "You're hurt. Why didn't you call me?" I looked down at the bandages. "It's just a scratch. The Capo has better things to do." My indifferent tone only seemed to irritate him. Just as he opened his mouth to speak, the hushed gossip of his men drifted in from the hallway. "Heard about Mia? The Capo really has a thing for her. She twisted her ankle at the casino, and he sent three bulletproof SUVs to clear the block. Carried her out himself. Her shoes didn't even touch the ground." Julian's jaw tightened. He shot a guarded glance my way, as if waiting for me to fly into a rage and demand answers, just like I used to. But I remained perfectly quiet, leaning against the hospital bed without moving an inch. He thought I was finally done causing trouble. He didn't realize I was quietly preparing to disappear from his life forever.

After hitting the five-million-dollar jackpot, I plan to leave every cent to my son, Caleb Dawson. But sitting inside the notary office, I suddenly hesitate. My wife, Zoey Watts, looks at me in utter confusion. "Caleb passed the test, so why are you hesitating?" A few days ago, I found a lottery ticket on the street that turned out to be worth five million dollars. Zoey was ecstatic. She immediately wanted to call our son and daughter, but I stopped her. "We can't just hand over five million dollars. Tell them I'm terminally ill. Whoever steps up to pay for my treatment gets the money." Our kids have always been good to us, so Zoey accused me of overthinking things. But our daughter, Jayda Dawson's, reaction completely blindsided us. She lives in a mansion and drives a luxury car. Yet, she only handed me 200 bucks, told me not to bother her, and ordered me to get out. Meanwhile, Caleb has just graduated and doesn't even have a job yet. Still, he gave me all 3,000 dollars he saved up over the years. Without any hesitation, Zoey and I decide to leave the entire five million dollars to Caleb. But now, I have changed my mind. "Sir, I want to leave everything to my daughter!" Zoey snaps. "Henry Dawson! Have you lost your mind?" I shake my head. "My mind is perfectly clear. Mom came to me in a dream last night."

One month after Mom died, Dad brought his mistress home. I screamed, cried, and hurled a glass at the woman and her daughter. The mistress immediately put on her fragile little act. Clutching her head, she leaned against my father and insisted she was fine. Dad flew into a rage. For the first time in my life, he yelled at me and ordered me back to my room. I was so furious that I ran away from home. He nearly gave himself a heart attack. “If you walk out that door, don’t ever come back!” But I left anyway. I didn’t even take a single cent with me. I wanted him to regret cheating on Mom. I wanted him to regret losing both of us. Only after I left did I realize how brutal the real world could be. I hadn’t even finished high school, so the only jobs I could get were manual labor, food delivery, and hourly gigs. I made just six hundred dollars a month. I couldn’t afford a decent apartment, so I had to share a cramped basement with strangers. Then one night, while rushing to make a delivery, I ran a red light. A semi-truck hit me head-on. I died alone in a morgue, unclaimed. Meanwhile, Dad was hosting a one-month birthday celebration for his newborn son at the family estate. He had a gentle wife, a son and a daughter, and a picture-perfect, happy family. And I died alone on a freezing winter night. But when I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day his mistress and her daughter first showed up at our house. This time, I didn’t cry. I didn’t make a scene. I simply slipped my father a drug that would leave him infertile.

At my father-in-law's funeral, my wife's lover took the son-in-law's seat in the family pew, holding his three-year-old daughter, the two of them wearing the family's mourning ribbons. I was left standing off to the side. Vanessa lowered her voice and tried to reason with me. "Dad's funeral matters. You've always known when to be sensible. Making a scene won't do you any good. "Damon gave me my only child. He's earned the right to sit up front as a son-in-law." Then Damon leaned in close enough that only I could hear him. "You've got some nerve. Our wife just humiliated you in front of everyone, and you're still standing here. "After my daughter and I take that seat today, everyone in Crownridge will know me as the Carlisle son-in-law. You won't even register. Let's see how long you last." My mother-in-law had her turn too. "You can't blame anyone but yourself. Ten years married to Vanessa and you never gave her a child." I beckoned to my two five-year-old sons waiting near the back. "Come here. Take your places up front as your grandfather's grandsons and say goodbye to him." They wanted children? Who said I didn't have any?

Ever since I was little, I have been able to hear what human organs were saying. My sickly roommate was overjoyed when she found out about this. “Lena, you can hear organs talk, and I’ve got gastritis. You must’ve been sent by the heavens to protect me! From now on, I’m putting my health in your hands, okay?” After that, she came up with endless ways to make me wait on her. “Lena, I sent you the pickup code. You know I have gastritis. I can’t walk too much.” “Lena, I want pasta tomorrow. Make sure you hurry back with it. If it gets cold, it’ll hurt my stomach.” Every time, I would simply let out a sigh and agree. It was until one day, when I came back after grabbing something to eat, I accidentally overheard her talking on the phone. “What, organs talking? If Lena could really hear them, wouldn’t she have figured out that I’m faking it by now? If she wants to play along, I’ll play along too. “Some people are born to be the heroine of the story. Others are born to be servants. Perfect timing. I picked out a dress today. Just watch how I get her to pay for it.” I pretended I had not heard a thing, I pushed open the door. The moment she saw me, tears welled up in her eyes. “You’re finally back! Lena, I asked ChatGPT today and it said my gastritis has progressed into a stomach ulcer. I might not have much time left. “There’s this three thousand dollar dress I’ve wanted forever. Consider it compensation for neglecting me. Think of it as granting my final wish!” I let out a sigh and placed the order for her anyway. The instant I checked out the item, I caught the smug look in her eyes. She thought I was stupid. What she did not know was that I really could hear her stomach speaking. It had been telling me that it was turning cancerous.

On New Year’s Eve, my kidnappers forced me to climb down the inside of a 650-foot industrial chimney with my bare hands. The kidnappers started a live stream on the dark web. They claimed that what I was doing could drive away bad luck and bring blessings for the country. I climbed for a full eight hours in darkness and pain. When my family caught me at the bottom of the chimney, my body was covered in sores, and I was so injured that they barely recognized me. Rachel immediately covered me with a shawl. When she helped me get into the car, she was shaking. My fiancee cried and dared not touch me. That night, she destroyed the whole criminal organization. On that ambulance ride home, I could barely think straight. I heard them whispering to each other. “Rachel, Jason just wanted an unforgettable night! You said it’s not “impressive” enough and insisted on making Yannick climb the chimney!” “Miss Jones, how could an ordinary present leave such a lasting impression on Jason?” “It doesn’t matter if Yannick suffers a little physical pain. Our family will more than make it up to him.” It turned out that the eight hours of agony I endured, which nearly killed me, were just to ensure that another man’s holiday would be “truly unforgettable.”

I had just found out I was a perfect match and was preparing to donate a kidney to my wife’s foster brother. That night, he left his iPad in the living room, and the screen lit up with a chat history between him and a doctor. “Doctor Evans, whatever you do, don’t tell my brother-in-law,” the message read. “If his kidney is removed, his hidden heart condition will flare up, and he won’t last three months.” The next day, I decisively canceled the donation. My wife was furious, calling me cold-blooded and forcing me to sign a divorce agreement that left me with absolutely nothing. A day later, I overheard his smug laughter from outside his hospital room. “He’s so stupid,” Boyd said. “I just photoshopped a fake chat log, and he actually believed he was sick. Now, we’ve stolen his luxury penthouse, and we can finally be together out in the open.” My wife kissed him. “Good boy. I’ll buy you a better kidney on the black market later.” Standing outside the door, I sneered. Of course, I knew the record was fake. After all, I had just reincarnated from the future. In half a month, a zombie apocalypse would strike, and this toxic pair of secret lovers would not only steal my medicine but also throw me to the undead. This time, with only three days left before the city is overrun by zombies, I want to see something. I want to see exactly how many days a sick bastard without a kidney transplant and a heartless woman without any survival supplies can last inside my luxury penthouse.

Getting into one of the nation's top universities, Newhaven University, is something I achieve after putting in all my effort throughout high school. The orientation bus for freshmen is traveling along the mountain road toward the new campus. Everyone on the bus is filled with anticipation for university life, but I'm curled up in the very last row, drenched in cold sweat. No one here knows that I've already died once. The GPS clearly shows that following this winding mountain road to the summit will lead to Newhaven University's new campus. However, in my previous life, the bus drove through a dense fog for a full three hours before finally plunging into a deserted valley. Yesterday, it was in that valley that I lost my way entirely, plunged off the cliff in sheer panic, and shattered every bone in my body. The roar of the bus engine pulls me back to reality, and I jerk my head up to glance at the time. In ten minutes, that eerie, all-encompassing fog will arrive.

For three consecutive months, an extra five hundred dollars mysteriously appeared in my desk drawer. Attached to each stack of cash was the same brief note: “Overtime Pay.” The only problem? Our company didn’t offer overtime pay. It wasn’t until I finally checked the security camera footage that I uncovered the truth. Every single night, my boss was sneaking over to my desk and slipping cash into my drawer.

As part of a deal with my husband, Shane Ford, I went undercover and spent a week interning at his company. On my very first day, I walked into the lobby and found a woman waving a certified copy of a marriage certificate in the receptionist’s face like she owned the place. “Do you understand what this proves?” she demanded. “I’m Shane Ford’s wife. The one and only Mrs. Ford.” She looked the receptionist up and down. “Why are you slouching? Stand up straight. And when I’m speaking to you, show some respect. Keep your head down until Mr. Ford gets here.” Then she turned her attention to the company cafeteria. “You actually expect people to eat that food? I’ll have a Michelin-starred chef brought in to redo the entire menu.” I was about to step in when the coworker beside me grabbed my arm. “Don’t. She’s Mr. Ford’s first love. I heard he proposed 100 times before she finally said yes.” She nodded toward the marriage certificate and lowered her voice. “If you offend Mr. Ford, you’ll probably just get fired. But if you offend Mrs. Ford, you could disappear without a trace.” I nearly laughed. I pulled out my phone and called my brother. “Tell Shane to come down here, and have him bring divorce papers.” I checked the time. “I want him on his knees begging me within five minutes.”

At seven in the evening, Summit Highway is fully closed in both directions. I'm working through the night to move my flock when a pink Mercedes G-Wagon plows straight through the barricade at the temporary roadblock. As a result, 29 Suffon breeding sheep, each wearing a specially assigned identification tag, are crushed to death on the spot. Cecilia Shaw holds her nose as she gets out of her car. She kicks aside a sheep that is still twitching and says, "Ugh, this sucks! How dare these worthless sheep block my way? Get rid of them now!" I stare at the pool of blood on the ground as I speak. "You plow through a barricade during a road closure and run over my sheep, killing them. Not only are you not offering to compensate me, but you also tell me to get rid of them?" Cecilia sizes me up with a look of annoyance. "Are you out of your mind? You dare try to extort me? I'm the heiress of Eastport's Shaw Group. "My family controls half of the entire country's fresh produce market. Piss me off, and I'll tell my dad to ensure that not a single pound of lamb from this backwater town ever sells again!" I observe her smug, arrogant expression, then pull out my satellite phone. "In that case, let's have the highway patrol come and determine who's at fault."

As the heir to a bloodline of diagnostic empaths, I was born with an extraordinary gift. The instant my fingers made contact with a patient’s skin, I could hear every organ speak its mind. When I examined a drunkard, his liver had screamed from inside him, “Half a bottle of whiskey and two beers every day! Look at me! I’m so dark and shriveled, I practically look like beef jerky soaked in bourbon!” When I examined a woman who had been struggling to conceive, her uterus had lamented, “Her husband’s swimmers can barely move, yet he has the nerve to blame me for not doing my job?” One night, after returning from a business trip, I accidentally touched Andy Croft’s wrist while pulling the blanket over him. A weak voice immediately came from his kidneys. “I’m running on fumes here. Three times a day, every day, for two straight weeks. Even a machine would have broken down by now!” His heart chimed in right after. “Every time he receives a check-in call, I start pounding so hard from panic that I feel like I could break through his ribs!” His skin was even more indignant. “That awful woman really went wild with her nails! His back looks like he lost a fight with a wildcat. She even bit him on the shoulder. Does she have a thing for biting?” My hands shook as I pulled back Andy’s collar. A fresh bite mark stood out clearly on his shoulder. That same night, I called a number I had not dialed in years. “You once made me an offer long ago. I accept.”

There are certain things one should never mess with. Like someone else's final exam revision notes, for example. Or a life-saving online calculus course. And a chicken curry meal ordered by a college student who has been starving for eight whole hours.

After my family and I are dragged into a roguelike horror simulation, they favor my cousin, Julian Clark, over me. In a lobby of blood-soaked players, he always manages to stay spotless, earning their praise as someone who has "kept his humanity". He's unlike me, the brute who willingly throws himself into melee combat and hacks down monsters just to keep everyone else alive. During one dungeon run, a terrifying entity targets my younger sister, Millie Larsson. I draw my blade and move in for the kill, but Julian stops me with a sorrowful smile. "Every creature has a soul. Gabriel, if you kill it, you'll only enrage it and burden Millie with the sin of bloodshed." Millie believes all the nonsense he says and begins resenting me for interfering. Later, when a veteran player steals Julian's life-saving loot drop, I nearly die reclaiming it for him. Instead of thanking me, he takes pity on the woman robbing him and hands the item back to her. He condemns me for being too ruthless, claiming I know nothing about showing mercy to women. Then comes the advanced raid. Cornered by the final boss, I beg Julian to activate the high-tier talisman I've given him, buying me just one second to escape. He recoils from my bloodstained hand in disgust and turns to my parents instead. "Gabriel provoked the boss himself. He's too violent. I can't risk wiping the whole party just to save him." In the end, I die in the boss' jaws. Julian steps over my shattered bones and blood to clear the raid, eventually becoming the server's most celebrated player for being the Untainted Saint. But fate grants me a second chance. I awaken once more in the game's central lobby, right before everything begins. This time, I want to see how long their precious humanity lasts in a world overrun by horrors when the blood-soaked blade that always carries their party is no longer there to protect them.