Bizarre

They say "behind every successful man is a woman", right? Well, in Maxwell Jay Gallagher's opinion, that's total bullshit! His company, M.J Tech, is the most successful tech company in the whole United Kingdom and there isn't even a single female staff member! For reasons best known by him, he hated women with a passion and he knew without any iota of doubt that he wasn't gay. But why was he developing such strange, bizarre feelings towards his new assistant whom he nicknamed 'little man'? Why the electric sparks and undeniable attraction? Unbeknownst to him, his 'little man' is actually Angelina McQueen, a gorgeous young woman under the disguise of a man who was hired as an undercover espionage agent by his rival in order to steal his company's business ideas... What will happen when he eventually discovers that the personal assistant that had always been not just behind him but in front of him, beside him and everywhere around him, was actually a woman?! And that too, an espionage agent!

SPG ALERT ❗ WARNING: Viewer discretion is advised. Contains graphic sex scenes, mature contents, adult language and situation intended for mature readers only. Scarlet was an office assistant in a big corporation; however, she was constantly bullied by her co-workers. She's the one bringing coffee, photocopying documents, and doing all the chores in her department. When Scarlet's best friend invited her and decided to celebrate her birthday in a highly reputable and exclusive male strip club, she had no choice but to agree. There she met a masked male stripper. He danced her seductively and sweaty. As if possessed, she found herself lurking backstage and secretly observing the man behind the mask. The man was bizarre and ambiguous, but in the end, she managed to see his face. Shocked was evidence in her face. She could not believe what she saw— "It's her boss, the CEO of the corporation."

Just because my sister, Yvonne Lindell, claims I swapped Grandma's medicine with sugar pellets and caused her death, Mom locks me inside the cremator. I kneel and beg, but Mom spits at me in disgust. "You wretched girl, stay still! You killed your grandma by secretly switching her medicine. Now go repent to her properly!" Dad hesitates, unable to bear it. "Maybe we should let her out. What if—" "What are you afraid of? Don't forget that she killed your mother! If we don't teach her a lesson this time, who knows who she'll kill next!" The voices outside the door gradually fade, and my heart sinks to the bottom. The flames slowly begin to lick at my body. In despair, I clutch Grandma's cold hand beside me. "Grandma, I'm sorry. I should've taken better care of your medicine. But I swear, I didn't replace it with sugar pellets. Maybe only in death, can I truly atone for this sin…"

On Father's Day, I received a heartwarming gift. My one-year-old son called me Dad for the first time. But moments later, he convulsed, foamed at the mouth, and died before we could reach the hospital. My wife was shattered, and I was devastated. The doctors couldn't identify the cause of his death. Three years later, my wife emerged from her grief, and we welcomed our second child. But the moment this child called me Dad, they, too, died instantly. To spare her further pain, I suggested adoption. Yet, even our adopted children met the same fate. Unable to bear the losses, my wife divorced me. Everyone said I was cursed, never meant to be a father. Defiant, I remarried and had another child, vowing never to let them call me Dad. For years, we adhered to this rule. But when our daughter turned four, she came home from preschool, eager to celebrate Father's Day. Holding a card, she read aloud, "Dad."

My wife, Ivy Hart, is about to give birth to the baby she conceived with Toby Clayton, her first love. Her parents hire ten bodyguards to stand guard outside the delivery room. Cora Norris, Ivy's mother, takes Ivy's hand and remarks, "Don't worry, Ivy. We'll make sure he can't get within two feet of you! Your dad is standing guard outside with the bodyguards. If he dares to stop you from having the baby, we'll report him to the police!" Ivy nods, her complexion pale, but she instinctively looks toward the door anyway. She doesn't see why I can't be more understanding of her. All she wants to do is help Toby have a child to carry on his family name. The birth proceeds without me showing up to cause a scene. She smiles gladly when she sees the crying baby in the nurse's arms. She thinks to herself that if I visit her tomorrow, she is willing to forget all about our previous fights. She is even willing to let me be the baby's father. What she doesn't know is that I've already submitted my application to the Alliance of Nations. In seven days, I will be leaving the country to become a field doctor for the Frontline Medical Corp, a humanitarian organization. I won't be coming back ever again.

In my parents' hearts, there was always a "perfect son" who died too soon. I was just his flawed substitute, while my younger brother was their new hope. They pretended to be poor for 20 years, secretly funneling all their resources to him. While I was in the final stages of stomach cancer, writhing in pain, they were spending millions of dollars to build him a state-of-the-art study room. When the doctor told me to notify my family about hospital bills, I felt helpless, thinking they were just ordinary, broke workers. When my mom finally showed up at the hospital, she grabbed my hand, not out of concern. "Neville is under so much stress with his college entrance exams. Can you not die right now? He can't take it." My dad stood by, wearing a stern expression. "David was way more sensible than you."

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?"

When I was ten, I bugged my brother to come home for my birthday. He died in a plane crash that day. They never found his body. After that, my parents saw me as a total screw-up. They blamed me for his death. Every year on his memorial day, they forced me to kneel at the cemetery and repent my mistakes. I did that for eight years. I figured I'd spend my whole life paying for it. But on my 18th birthday, some creep stalked and murdered me. Right before I died, I tried calling for help. But my mom chewed me out. "I bet you're just dodging your duty to make up for James. You're full of crap. If you hadn't forced him to come back, he would have been alive. This is what you deserve." She hung up, leaving me staring at the dead screen. My last hope was dashed. She was right. Someone like me meant nothing but bad luck to those around me. I didn't deserve to exist. But then, eight years after his death, James showed up with his pregnant wife. When they heard I was gone, they fell apart.

The buzzing of my phone in the middle of the night jolted me awake. On the other end of the line came a voice I could never forget. It was my daughter! However, she died three years ago!

'IT' knows what's scares you... Janice Ross finds herself behind bars for the crimes that she claims she didn't commit. Coincidences were a part of books until they entwined with demonic power and uprooted the lives of young teenagers who face the wrath of wrong choices. Her life took a turn for worse when, even in prison, the evil plagued her dreams. The bizarre circumstances of Janice Ross's encounters intrigued Byron, a true-crime writer. Not believing the strength of the ancient curse, he proceeds to investigate the story and caught up in a series of horrific evidences that turns his life on its axis. Together, Janice and Byron have conjured hauntings that rival reality and uncovers the truth. Will Janice escape her fate or will Byron become another victim of the broken night.