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When I have a pen in my hand and paper before me, I think I want to write something to cast every despair in my pathetic life away. I have a figure of a depressed guy whose fate is too much: saving the world. He is not stupid nor even smart, he is not ugly nor even good looking. He is just a nijikon (A person who loves an anime character more than the real one) like me. He once thought to give up on life, but an event changes his life. I'm sure you guys start guessing how the story goes, but too bad, this one is different than the others.

Seven years ago, I ignored my girlfriend's heart-wrenching pleas and ruthlessly severed our relationship. Now, after seven long years, she had risen to the top—and she was back, ready for her wedding. She didn't come home for mere celebration, though. She came for revenge. She obliterated the company my father had spent his entire life building and did not stop until she shattered his leg, forcing him to endure unimaginable pain. It was all so I'd be forced to go to her wedding and beg for forgiveness. But that wasn't enough. She wanted more. She hissed, brandishing a blade, "If Matthew's not here in ten minutes, I'll slice off a finger for every minute he's late." My autistic brother's fingers, the only way he could create art, became a bargaining chip in her sadistic game. Dad's anguished cries filled the air as he pleaded for mercy, but she was not done. She wanted to tear my family apart piece by piece. My mom, fragile and trapped in the haze of Alzheimer's, was next. Her mind, already slipping, crumbled under the relentless torment. She cracked, completely lost to the madness. With tears streaming down his face, Dad said, "My son died the day you left for abroad."

I slumped on the floor and hugged my knees into my chest. I glanced up at Blake and my eyes started to pool, looking at him. "I- I am scared. I-I am scared to have kids. I am scared to have feelings l-like this. I am scared of everything that is connected in love." My voice broadcasting sadness when I said those words and tears started streaming down my face."I have f-fear Blake. I have a fear that I don't want to encounter but they are still coming after me." I broke into sobs and I buried my face into my knees. --Ava Celestine YuA 24 years old girl, independent, strong on the outside, hard-working, reached her dreams at the age of 24, have a simple life on her own, no fairytale dream in life. What can happen when someone comes into her life that makes her feel the feeling and emotions she does not want to experience because of her fear that she hid for years? Blake Adam EcollinA 26 years old, fourth youngest billionaire in New York City, handsome, charming, a hidden billionaire who doesn't like paparazzi but still everyone loves him, rude, cold, and ruthless CEO who owns BLADE RUSH Techno. He knew that almost all the women chase after him, he isn't the one who chases her. --Is it a choice between love and fear? Which one she will she choose?Or is it a battle of love and fear? Which one will prevail?---GRAMMATICAL ERRORS- (Read at your own risk.)IG: azelea_avery

The fifth year of my marriage to Silas marked a turning point I would never forget. Our son, Yael, was kidnapped. The ransom was set at ten million dollars, an insignificant amount for Silas, yet his response chilled me to the core. “No rush. A Gardner needs to experience some hardships to grow.” Ten million meant nothing to him, but Yael’s life meant everything to me. I dropped to my knees, tears streaming down my face, and begged him relentlessly, pleading for Yael to be brought home as soon as possible. Silas, however, remained unmoved. Three days later, Yael was returned to us, but the cheerful boy I knew was gone. He had been so traumatized that he could not speak. Far from showing concern, Silas coldly remarked, “Yuna said Yael keeps telling everyone at school she’s a fatherless child. Let’s see how he spreads lies now.” His words cut through me like a knife. I picked Yael up in my arms and whispered softly in his ear, “Don’t be afraid, Yael. Mommy will take you away from here.”

Natalie used to hate stuffed animals. Now she's head-over-heels for a cotton doll. She called it "honey" and told our daughter, Yara, it was her real dad. Cool. Guess that made me the family ghost. At Yara's parent-teacher conference, I finally snapped and handed Natalie the divorce papers. Cue the gasps. Suddenly, I'm the villain. She slapped me—full drama mode. "It's just a doll! Why are you being so extra?" Yara hugged it like it was about to save the world, giving me the death stare. I shrugged, smirking. "You're the one who said it's your dream husband and Yara's one and only dad. So, like... why am I still here?"

"Is that tattoo real?" she asked, her voice trembling. Edgar looked at her, confused. "Yes,I got it on a trip to Hawaii, years ago. Why do you ask?" Elma's heart raced as she realized the truth. "You're him," she whispered. "You're the man who raped me." Edgar's expression changed, going from confusion to realization. "Elma, I swear, I had no idea. I would never hurt you. I love you." But Elma couldn't listen. She screamed at him, tears streaming down her face. "How could you do this to me? How could you marry me and not tell me who you really are?" A wild encounter leads to a devastating turn of events. Haunted by his past mistake, Gael Edgar enters into a contract marriage with the lady he unconsciously abused in order to save his company and family fortune. As they navigate their contracted union, secrets and past traumas come to light, leading to a dramatic confrontation of truth and the possibility of destruction, forgiveness and love. With Justice in Elma's hand, will she forgive him or will she destroy him? Find out in "The Contracted Bride."

The Horror Game invaded the world. Real players entered the game, and their every move would be broadcast live. My adopted son shoved me—an eighty-eight-year-old woman—straight into a deadly dungeon to save his own skin. One of the comments in the live stream predicted: [What? They’re tossing in such an elderly woman? No way she’s gonna survive the first night!] On the first night, a frost-bitten ghost exhaled icy breath in my face. I shrugged off my thick floral coat, feeling sorry for her. “You poor thing! You must be freezing. Listen to me and bundle up quickly!” The second night, a starving ghost lunged at me with blood dripping down his chin. I sniffed the air, then found a jar of pickled cabbage. “Look at how skinny you are! Come on, let me get you something hot to eat.” On the final day, the last surviving players tied me up, desperate to steal the one ticket to escape. However, before they could touch me, every ghost in the dungeon came storming out, cleavers and rolling pins in hand. “Touch her, and you’re dead meat!”

The boy, George Larson, whom I once saved as a child, when he was struggling with asthma, repaid my kindness by imprisoning me for seven long years. "Luna, you're my everything. I won’t let you out of my sight," he said, his voice filled with obsession. He tied my hands and feet, keeping me bound to the bed like a helpless doll, but I did not love him; I wanted to escape. In his madness, he set fire to my family’s ancestral home. The last traces of the Sachs burned to ashes, disappearing into the wind. He said that since my home was gone, I could just live with him and that it would be my new home. However, because I refused to let him touch me, he found someone else—a girl with a beauty mark under her eye, just like mine. The girl, drunk on his affection, thought I was trying to imitate her by faking the same tear-shaped mark. In a fit of jealousy, she gouged out my eyes. My face was covered with tiny, bleeding holes, blood streaming down my body. When George came home, the girl gleefully stuffed me into a trash bag, proud of her handiwork. “George, look! I caught some trash that broke into the house!” George did not even glance at me. He just loosened his tie, his voice calm and detached. “Just toss it where trash belongs.”

"S..oo it..t wa..s all a liee" I stuttered unable to find a complete sentence due to the fact that I was shoken at the conversation I just heard eairler on. "I can...." I heard Xander begin but didn't let him finish as I turned to Reena's direction. "So yo..u al...so kn...ew" I turned to the direction of Reena totally shocked while still trying to get out a sentence completely but still failing miserably at it, due to my trembling lips. "I swear Aneesa,I tried to tell you but he made me promise not to....that he would tell you himself at his own will cause he had fallen in love with you" she said hurriedly while looking at me with worry and fear evident in her eyes. "Babe listen to me I can explain" "Don't you dare call me that" I snapped finally getting my voice back since the time I walked into the apartment, while storming out of the door with tear streaming down my face.

On my son's fifth birthday, my Alpha mate allowed his childhood sweetheart Sarah to pick him up from school. I discovered through the tracking device on his watch that he was near the edge of the forest. Having heard reports of rogue wolves attacking in the area recently, I anxiously rushed over, determined to bring him back immediately. He refused to leave with me. While we were locked in this standoff, several rogue wolves burst from the treeline and attacked us. During the fight, I was wounded badly, blood streaming down my face, while I kept my son safely behind me, completely unharmed. But when my Alpha mate arrived to rescue us, he ran straight toward his childhood sweetheart who was hiding off to the side. "Aunt Sarah is a delicate Omega with no fighting ability, Dad. Save her first! Mom, you're so strong, just hold on a little longer!" my son called out. I watched them leave, a bitter smile forming on my lips. They all seemed to ignore the silver dagger piercing my heart as I protected my son. I was dying.