Chat Story Horror

The project I had poured my heart and soul into earned the company over a hundred million in profit, yet the credit was handed to the vice president's nephew. I stood in a corner, the stack of source code documents trembling in my hands, nearly crushed by my grip. That nephew—who couldn't even get Hello World to compile—was now on stage, smiling brightly as he accepted the award. The vice president came over and draped an arm around my shoulder like we were old friends. "You're just an outsourced worker," he said casually. "These honors wouldn't mean anything to you anyway. Jason is new. He's got limitless potential. From now on, you'll be responsible for mentoring him properly." Only then did I realize that decades of struggle had been nothing more than laying out a red carpet for someone else's glory. That very night, while reviewing the project's code repository, I discovered a massive flaw—one serious enough to bring the entire system crashing down within three days.

The moment my roommate walked in, she used my locker. She claimed to have too many things and nowhere else to put them. I rolled my eyes. Why should I let her get her way? I was not her parent. She was no princess, but she acted like one. I was ready to argue, but she tossed 200,000 dollars at me. “At your service, Your Highness!”

At the year-end company meeting, I was announcing the bonuses when a new employee suddenly raised her hand. "Over at the other company, they handed out two boxes of imported cherries at their annual party," she said, shaking her phone. "And we only get performance bonuses?" The video, maliciously edited, went viral online and hit the trending list the very next day. I had the finance department cancel all the year-end bonus transfers. "If cherries are what really count as a gesture of goodwill," I said, "then this year's year-end benefit will be cherries—fifty boxes per person." When they saw the mountain of cherries piling up before them, the employees who had once joined in mocking me panicked instantly. One by one, they cried and apologized, begging me to reconsider.

I did three years in prison for my wife, Lilian Parson. The day I got out, she handed me an envelope for her company's grand opening. Inside was a single dollar bill. For a second, I thought it was a mistake. Then I saw her colleague, Nathan Ramsey, holding his envelope—his also contained a single dollar. Relieved, I pushed my doubts aside. I smiled, stood by Lilian's side through the entire ceremony, the picture of a proud, supportive husband. That night, scrolling through Instagram, I saw Nathan's latest post. A photo of a check. [Congratulations to Lilian Parson on the grand opening! So generous—100 million as a gift!] The comments section exploded with envy and blessings, congratulating him and "the boss" on finally becoming a couple. Lilian offered no explanation. Instead, she hurried to draw a line between us. "You just got out of prison," she said coolly. "It's not a good look to go public right now. Let's keep our marriage a secret. In front of others, just call me your boss." Then she turned around and liked Nathan's post. I wiped the tears from my eyes, picked up my phone, and dialed the number of her greatest rival. "From now on, I work for you," I said.

Note: *This is not a horror story!* --- Olivia Jillian Hunters has it all— beauty, body, brain, money, friends, the perfect boyfriend that every girl wanted, and the haters, of course. But because of a broken heart from knowing that her boyfriend has been cheating on her with Sydney Roswell, her long-time enemy, OJ got into an accident that caused her to be in a coma. She woke up one day and knew that she was not in her body... not even near. She is now a ghost. When OJ overheard that her physical body is living with a machine for life-support and will not go for long, she panicked as she doesn't know how to stop her parents from letting her die. In searching for help, she found herself wandering in the academy and learned that Sydney is the only one who can see and hear her. Will she ever ask for help from the girl who she hates and hates her back even more? #this is a story of love and hate between two girls

My wife’s new assistant recently celebrated his birthday, and she splurged on a villa as a gift to him. On the day he moved in, the assistant, Zachary Shaw, bragged on Instagram with a post and captioned: [Bagged myself a sugar mommy, just FYI.] My wife, Ivy Bennett, commented on the post: [Happy birthday, my dear Zacky! 🫰] The photo was Zachary wrapping his arm around my wife’s slender waist, looking incredibly intimate. The work group chat blew up at once. Everyone expressed their envy toward Zachary, singing his praises for being so promising at such a young age. Then, my childhood friend, Autumn Sinclair, tagged me in the group chat and teased, [Love is a blinding green light. Your wife’s cheating on you so hard it glows. Congrats, Julian!] I smiled wryly and stubbed out my cigarette. Slowly, I typed my reply, [Want a house, Autumn? I’ll get you one too, better than her gift to him.]

In a fictional world of the supernatural in a place called Horror academy, based on the rivalry between vampires and the wolves. Following the life of the Alpha werewolf, Primus vampire and a mere vampire Elvira. Elvira wanted the realms to be combined and live together in harmony while, the primus vampire had an entirely different plan for the realms. As time went on, a great twist of fate occurred at Horror academy, which led to a devastating period for everyone at the realm. “How to fix things? Who’s destiny was it ?” remained the question of the moment.

Dedi, seorang laki-laki berusia 30 tahun bekerja sebagai tukang tagih koperasi yang menerima pembayaran cicilan dari Agustina, salah seorang nasabah nya dengan melayaninya di ranjang. Ratna, istri Agus, memergoki chat antara Agustina dengan Dedi yang janjian ke hotel. Apa yang akan Ratna lakukan?

My name is Athena Argos, and I’m the future Gamma of the Blood-Moon pack. I should be training to take over my position, but instead, I’ve left my pack to find the truth about the horrific attack that killed my father two years ago. He was my hero, and I can’t stand by and allow the pack responsible to get away with his murder. Follow the story of Athena and her lycan, Enyo, as they uncover the truth about who attacked their pack. What will happen when they find out that they are chosen by the Moon Goddess to fulfil a centuries-old prophecy, and are the reason why their father is dead? Will Athena and Enyo be able to protect the ones they love and fulfil the prophecy? Trigger Warnings: Violence This story includes random and/or deliberate acts of violence towards others which may be triggering to some readers with lived experience. Please proceed with caution. Physical Abuse This story contains descriptions of physical and/or verbal abuse, including SA, which may be triggering to readers with lived experiences. Mental or Emotional Abuse This story contains descriptions of mental and/or emotional abuse which may be triggering to survivors. Kidnapping This story contains descriptions of kidnapping, which may include forceful deprivation of/disregard for personal autonomy, which may be triggering for readers with lived experiences. Death This story includes references to death, violence, and/or abuse. Please proceed with caution. Blood This story includes descriptions of horror, blood, and/or violent behaviors. Please proceed with caution.

While preparing for the SATs at the library, my brother is accidentally shot and injured, causing him to bleed profusely. I pass by this scene but turn a blind eye and quicken my pace to leave. This is because in my previous life, when I saw him, I rushed him to the hospital in a panic. He had intracranial hemorrhaging, and he urgently needed surgery. I quickly called my mom, the top neurosurgeon in the city, begging her to come to the hospital as soon as possible. However, she thought I was jealous that she had taken my adopted sister to the beach instead of spending time with me. She also believed I had fabricated the story about my brother's injury, and thus refused to return. By the time my dad and the rest of the family hurried to the hospital, it was too late for rescue efforts—my brother had passed away. The whole family blamed me for his death. They were convinced that I had deliberately misled my mom and delayed his critical treatment. When my mom returned from out of town, she lost her composure and pushed me down the stairs, watching coldly as I bled to death. After opening my eyes again, I had returned to the day my brother was shot at the library.