Chat Story Horror

At the New Year’s team-building event, the intern, Lilith Woods, did not obtain my approval and changed our suburban trip to a seven-day tour of Baline. “Mr. Lucian Stone, I hear a change of scenery can really spice things up. Don’t lock up tonight. I’ll come by for a deep dive into our collaboration.” She pretended to be drunk and fell into my arms while slipping the room key into my pocket in the process. To avoid suspicion, I did not return to the hotel. However, in the middle of the night, the police called me in for questioning—someone had reported a dine-and-dash. Only then did I realize that the reserved budget of $100,000 for the accommodation had long since been exceeded. Lilith had upgraded their room to a presidential suite, feasted on high-end seafood buffets, and even used company funds to buy luxury handbags! When I showed up at their private room, the interns were still casually taking king crabs and several unopened bottles of the Macallan Whisky with them. “Mr. Stone, you’re just in time. Could you please settle the bill?” Lilith looked utterly righteous as she said this with a grin. “Young people like us make mistakes, while adults help to pay the price. You’re not exactly short on cash, anyway. Just think of it as buying my happiness.” I stared at the $700,000 bill and paid it in silence. The next day, the payment invoices made their grand entrance in the group chat, accompanied by my pinned message. [Upon financial review, this team-building event does not meet reimbursement criteria. All expenses will be shared equally among the seven participants.] [Each person will need to pay $100,000, payable immediately. If payment needs to be deferred, please print the proof and submit it to the President’s Office.]

At the company team-building event, I got called out by my colleague Samantha Rowler for not removing my price tag—she accused me of being a "freebie chaser." "Oh wow, Carla, you drive a BMW 5 Series. Are you seriously planning to return your clothes within seven days too?" she sneered. I tucked the tag back in and ignored her snide remark. But after the event, as soon as I got home, my phone started blowing up. My chat apps were going insane. A friend had sent me a link: [Luxury-Car Executive Turns Out to Be a Return Addict!] Someone had filmed me leaving the price tag on and posted it to a short-video platform. I opened the comment section and was met with a barrage of insults. [Can't afford to live, huh? Tag warrior.] [Is this car a sugar-daddy gift? Those who know, know.] [OMG, does this woman have some kind of illness? Which brand is this so I can avoid it!] I immediately knew Samantha was behind it. I messaged her to delete the video. Instead, the next second, she blocked me—and pinned a comment to the top of the thread: [You can know a person's face but never their heart!] I was about to post a statement to clarify, my finger hovering over the send button, when I noticed the video's likes had already shot past ten thousand. I laughed. If they wanted a scene, fine—let's make it bigger. I quickly posted a new update: [The outfit is really nice. I'll wear it again next time.] The netizens erupted. The insults doubled, the heat skyrocketed, and the post shot straight to number one trending. I just put my phone down and went to sleep.

Seven years into our marriage, my husband, Lucas Thorne, is hailed as a legendary astronomer in the field of astronomy. It is no secret that he absolutely adores me, his wife. He always keeps a polite, distant demeanor with those around him. Even when his new assistant, Serena Cox, asks for his number, he coldly turns her down. In the year he proposed to me, he named a star "LAW", which was an acronym for "Lucas Adores Wilma". Since then, every asteroid he discovers is named with initials that hold a special significance only the two of us know. To others, they might just be scientific achievements. But to me, they are unspoken love letters. This goes on until this morning, when I stumble upon an unfamiliar phone. I unlock it easily with my middle name, thinking it's yet another quiet gesture of his love. But to my horror, I find a string of explicit messages between him and another woman. The person who was at the receiving end of those messages was none other than… Serena, his assistant.

Book 1# - Be careful what you wish for Book 2# - Carefully she had wished This books shows the origin of Xavier and Rosemary. Xavier and Rosemary were past lovers , but due to King Alexander their lover story is that of a horror story. This book is merely a flashback that Rose had seen from the previous book

Hannah was a troubled soul, her past horrors have molded her into a sad, melancholic girl. She has been through a lot of painful stuff that she decided to end her life. As she lay down a bathtub filled with her blood, she did not realize that her death was just the beginning of her journey. A series of mysterious occurrences take place after her death. It all starts with her step-brother Matthew's discovery of a letter from Hannah. Her vengeful spirit seems to live on to haunt those who have wronged her. Devon the love of her life, Cassidy her best friend who betrayed her, her mother Lucy who bore Hannah with her affair with Garret, and Brandon Johnson her dad who has kept a dark secret involving Hannah. One by one, page by page of each letter the truth unfolds and her hauntings may not be the real horror in this story. This is not just a horror story but a twisted love story that transcends life and death.

Years after graduation, someone suddenly tags me in the class group chat. "Mr. Warren is gravely ill, Mira. Aren't you going to do anything? You really are heartless!" I only realize what's going on when I click on the fundraising link in the chat. Our high school homeroom teacher, Joseph Warren, has late-stage cancer. Thus, Lyra Fairfield, the class belle, is leading a fundraiser and patient-donor matching process. "I'll donate ten thousand dollars. My husband is the director of Waverly General Hospital, and I've already asked him to arrange a VIP ward for Mr. Warren." Right after I send that message, the group pounces on me. "Mira, you contracted an STD back then and tried to pin it on Lyra. She didn't even hold it against you, and now you're trying to steal her thunder? You're unbelievable!" "I can't believe you're still lying through your teeth during such a serious situation. You never change, do you?" Lyra immediately defuses the tension. "Mira, I don't blame you for what happened in the past, but you really shouldn't impersonate the director's wife. I've already arranged the ward and surgery, and I'm donating another 100 thousand dollars to Mr. Warren!" I'm this close to laughing out of sheer anger. She's the one who scratched her name off the diagnosis report and framed me for having an STD all those years ago. I never even confronted her about it, and now she's playing the victim? Lyra soon posts a photo in the group chat, showing off her husband's car. Yet, when I see the man in the passenger seat, I guffaw. Isn't that my husband's driver? When did he start running a hospital?

On my wedding day, my sister was drugged by my fiancé's best friend and viciously assaulted by a group of groomsmen. When she came to, the shame and horror drove her to leap to her death, her broken body crumpling at my feet. Herbert Brady shielded my eyes from the grisly sight, vowing to make things right. But when the truth came out that Lori Reilly was behind it, he smashed my phone to keep me from calling the police. Lori shrugged with mock innocence. "The guys were just messing around. So what if they tore her clothes off? I've been half-naked around them plenty of times. Why was she so fragile?" She slung her arm around Herbert's neck, whining, "I told you not to marry some broke nobody. Poor people have such brittle pride. Look at the mess Mona has made." When I demanded justice, Herbert stayed cool, sliding a Centurion card across the table. "Ten million dollars. Enough to buy your silence? Lori is one of us, part of the city's elite inner circle. Push your luck, and you're making enemies of everyone who runs this town. Come on, it was just a wedding prank gone wrong." I seized the car and snapped it like a twig. Ten million dollars? To buy the life of the Woodard family's cherished heiress?

I used an anonymous account to send a video chat invitation to my crush, a senior who had always been aloof and reserved, but he agreed. Throughout the video chat, I had on a black mask, and I modified my voice to conceal my identity. At my command, he took off his clothes one by one, revealing his solid abs. While I was admiring his toned body, he smiled devilishly and said, "It's your turn now..."

My boyfriend, Dallas Clarke, had a pick-me girl constantly hanging around him named Olivia Phillips. She knew perfectly well that I had diabetes and could not eat high-sugar foods. Yet, during our hiking trip, she still managed to trick me into eating a high-sugar energy bar, which caused my blood sugar to spike. When I pulled out my insulin pen to inject myself, I discovered with horror that my medication had been replaced with saline solution. Seeing me collapsed on the ground, dry heaving uncontrollably, Olivia smirked in disdain. "You are always so dramatic. It's just sugar, you don't need to act like you're dying. That's why I told Dallas to switch your meds, because you needed to toughen up and build some stamina." I looked toward Dallas, my breathing already becoming labored. "Dallas, give me my medication. If I don't inject insulin soon, I'm going to die..." Dallas frowned slightly. "Don't you think you're being a little overdramatic? I've never heard of anyone dying from a bit of sugar. Olivia's right... You're such an attention seeker. We barely get together as a group, and here you are causing a scene." My heart sank, and I called Dad immediately. "Dad, I'm getting bullied, and I might die! Are you going to do something about it or not?"

The most popular girl from my high school is getting married. She invites everyone in our class to the wedding. I want to act like I don't see the message, but she deliberately tags me in the group chat. "You kept pretending to be a rich girl like me in high school, but I don't hold it against you. In fact, I'll allow you to attend my wedding tomorrow to see what the rich life is like." The other classmates speak up. "You're so generous, Haley. It's no wonder you can marry someone from the Baumer family. I can't believe you can even forgive someone as materialistic as Emma!" "Does someone like Emma Larkin even deserve to attend Haley's wedding? She's so full of herself." As the insults become worse, Haley Stockwell steps forward to keep the peace. "Come on, let's put this behind us. I'm not bothered by these things since it's been so long. Anyway, let's not bear a grudge against Emma when she's already so poor and ugly." Everyone in the group chat starts singing her praises and calling her kind and innocent. I sneer. Haley is the one who kept pretending to be rich—I'm the true heiress from an affluent family, yet she made me out to be a liar. She turned me into the target of everyone's insults. I check the digital wedding invitation to see that the venue is my villa. The groom looks familiar—isn't he my husband's driver? I smile at the thought of what's going to happen. I reply, "Sure! I have to attend your wedding!"