Danny Phantom Freak Show Novels & Stories

A Gen Z employee named Sylvie Mercer has reported me to the Department of Labor by claiming that I've forced all employees to work on the year-end holidays. But the truth is, I've given the entire company a nine-day vacation just to celebrate the year-end holidays. Those who are willing to work overtime shifts will be paid three times their usual salaries and given an additional five-thousand-dollar bonus. Sylvie keeps crying on the internet about how all the employees, including her, are forced to trade their lives for money. Thanks to her, the entire Internet keeps bashing me. So, I decide to follow the public opinion by releasing an announcement. "In order to ensure all employees' health, the company's doors shall be locked during the year-end holidays. Do note that the electric supply will be cut off as well. No one is permitted entry into the company." As soon as the announcement is released, the employees who plan on earning extra money in order to pay off their mortgages all rush toward my office in alarm.

In the split second when the research lab explodes, my boyfriend, Thomas Bastion, dashes to Melody Harper, who is standing furthest from the blast zone. He shields her from the impact with his own body. When the sounds of the explosion stop, the first thing he does is carry Melody to the hospital. I'm lying on the floor. My body is covered in fresh blood, but he doesn't spare a single glance at me. Thomas has taken care of Melody for the past 18 years. His heart is filled with nothing but her. There's no space for anyone else. I only survived because my colleagues rushed me to the hospital. When I am discharged from the ICU, I call my teacher, Louis Carpenter. Both my eyes are swollen from how much I've been crying. "Mr. Carpenter, I've made up my mind. I'm willing to join you for the confidential research. It's fine if we have to leave in one month. I don't care that I'll be unable to contact anyone for the next five years." The wedding ceremony that I have been dreaming of is supposed to take place in a month's time. However, I no longer want to get married.

My brother-in-law, Benjamin Fallow, got trapped in a deep pit, so I grabbed some ropes and risked my life to climb down and pull him out. Just after I tied the rope around his waist, the line went slack and we both came crashing down. When I looked up, I couldn't believe my eyes. My wife, Celeste Fallow, had cut the rope. Meanwhile, her childhood friend, Vincent Jameson, grinned and egged her on. "Do it." Black-clad bodyguards started shoveling sand into the hole, trying to bury us alive. I grabbed the walkie-talkie and screamed up at her, "Celeste, your brother and I are still down here!" She sneered back. "Three years ago, during the quake, you left Vincent's brother trapped under the rubble for five days while you saved others. Now it's time to pay what you owe." Vincent shed crocodile tears and crowed, "Celeste, thanks to you, my brother's revenge is finally complete." With the sand already up to our ankles, I shouted at the top of my lungs, "Celeste Fallow, your brother is really down here with me!"

Right before graduation, my roommate waved around a job offer from some overseas company. It had a three-day workweek, with a starting salary of $50,000 a month. It sounded too good to be true, so I warned her it might be a scam. When she struck out on other job leads, I asked my dad to get her a position at his company. She scoffed at the eight-hour days and $6,000 monthly salary, calling it slave labor. Then she went live online, falsely accusing my dad of inappropriate advances and pressuring her to bear him a son. When skeptics questioned her, she swore no woman would lie about her honor. The internet erupted, branding my dad a predator. Our company collapsed under the backlash, leaving us drowning in debt. To spare me, my dad jumped from a rooftop to his death. Devastated, I wandered into traffic and was struck by a truck. When I opened my eyes again, I was back to the day Amber got that shady offer.

After closing a 100-million-dollar business deal, I dip into an ordinary-looking cafe by the street on a whim. "I'll have a cup of cappuccino, please." The waitress, who's immaculately dressed, rolls her eyes at me before sashaying toward me. In a fake, nasally tone, she says, "I'm sorry, but there aren't any servers here. I'm the owner of this place." She eyes me up and down before continuing, "The prices here are relatively high for regular people. Are you sure you want to order coffee from me?" I pause in the act of massaging my temple. Finally, I scan around the cafe. "Your cafe is nothing to look at. Are you saying that you're not going to serve regular people, then?" The owner's friend jumps up to her feet instantly at my comment. Then, she starts berating me angrily. "Gianna has opened this cafe just to burn her free time and contribute to the community by giving them a taste of what it feels like to be rich! How dare you question her! "Do you even know who Gianna is? She's the successor of Luxara Corporation! Her boyfriend is Levi Anderson, the CEO of Miller Group! How dare you talk to her like this! You won't be able to make a living in Westford anymore!" I raise an eyebrow in response. The man who had kneeled before me with tears rolling down his cheeks while begging me to invest in his company… was the boss of Luxara Corporation, if I remembered correctly. Also, isn't Levi that live-in husband of mine?

The butler's son took my secondary credit card and burned through my money so he could play the part of a trust-fund prince everyone envied. He made me, his employer's real daughter, bring him lunch every day and run errands for him. In front of his classmates, he smeared me as his family's servant and a desperate girl chasing after him. He even stole my family's heirloom jewelry to impress the campus belle. I finally hit my limit. I decided to give him a lump sum and cut ties completely, treating it as payment for the life-saving favor he once gave me. But after I brought it up, he and his father poisoned my family's food and seized every bit of our property for themselves. When I opened my eyes again, I was back in my college classroom. Facing the butler's son, who was still flashing the wealth he stole from me, I took his card and cut it in half. "If you keep pretending like this, your butler dad's salary won't cover the act."

My sister, Aria Sawyer, stumbled drunk into a billionaire's room one night. Now, she was pregnant and wanted the whole family's advice. Something about it felt off. Forget about how mismatched they were. How could a billionaire's suite possibly have no security, letting anyone just wander in? When I pointed that out, Aria actually agreed. She decided to end the pregnancy and start fresh. But the very day she left the hospital, headlines exploded. The billionaire was marrying another woman carrying his child. Aria went mad with jealousy. Right in front of our parents, she grabbed a knife and stabbed me to death. "This is all your fault! That spot in high society should have been mine!" And then, my eyes opened again. Aria sat there, blushing sweetly, calling a family meeting. "I think I might be pregnant with Mr. Moore's child. What should I do now?"

My wife is the daughter of a top jewelry tycoon. She accused me of pushing her mother down the stairs to steal the family fortune and had me thrown in prison. While I was locked up, her people disfigured my face and crushed my hands—the same hands that once played the piano. After my release, I run from her like a madman. Just like she said I would, I give up and start mooching off a wealthy woman. But then, she clings to me and begs me not to leave.

My younger sister was crazy about novels and always envied the way ordinary heroines pick up penniless heroes and climb the social ladder. So, she started picking up men wherever she could. Until one day, a man with a face covered in sores collapsed at our doorstep. I instantly recognized the signs of syphilis and warned my sister repeatedly, and only then did she give up the idea. However, fate had other plans: my sister's best friend "picked him up" instead and married into a wealthy family. My sister held a grudge. On my birthday, she locked me in my room and set it on fire. No matter how desperately I begged, she refused to open the door. Outside, she sneered: "I know you're just scared I'll live better than you, so you want to drag me down into misery with you. People like you don't even deserve to be a sister!" I burned alive, my body reduced to nothing but ashes. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the very day my sister insisted on "picking up that man." This time, I quietly stepped back, letting her have her way—of course, I chose to let her succeed.

Feeling overwhelmed by loneliness, I installed a one-way mirror in the bedroom of the apartment next door, which I specifically rent out to muscular men. One day, through the mirror on the wall, I watched my tenant with his girlfriend, caught up in their fiery passion. I couldn't help but be drawn to his strong physique and impressive size. One day, I pulled him into a small, dimly lit cubicle with me...