Deleted Stories Novels & Stories

It was as if I had never existed, and our past had been nothing but a hallucination. In the end, he found the wedding ring in the trash can. In a daze, he remembered that years ago, he had spent an entire month learning how to design a ring just for the wedding proposal. Tears had welled up in my eyes when I looked at his hand, my heart aching for the injuries it was covered in. It was then that he promised himself that he would never make me cry again. So why had he thrown all those promises aside? Then memories of him not being able to resist temptation and giving in flooded his mind. Regret once washed through him when he saw my tears, but in the end, he succumbed to his desires. He had b

I know. I grab the remote of the medium-sized TV hanging on the wall, switching it on. Perhaps a little distraction will help, but my jaw drops at the first image on display. The video coverage of my wedding is on display with the huge caption: BUSINESS TYCOON PATRICK BAXTER'S DAUGHTER DITCHED AT THE ALTAR. No... no, this isn't right.

With trembling hands, I opened the envelope. Inside were only a few short lines. "Faith, “I'm sorry. “I exposed the truth and brought those responsible to justice, but I can't live with what happened. “I can't live with the fact that my parents killed Anne. “I can't live with what you suffered because of them. “The debt I owe you can never be repaid in this lifetime. “If there is another life beyond this one, let me be the one to repay it. “Take care of yourself." I held the letter in my hands as tears blurred my vision.

“Very.” Darius scanned several headlines in silence. RITUAL FRAUD OR SACRED WARNING? BLACKWATER LOSING CONTROL OF NARRATIVE WHO IS ELARA VALE? EXPLAINING THE MOON RECOIL #ANSWEREDWOLF TRENDING ACROSS TERRITORIES Elara groaned softly. “Please tell me that last one isn’t real.” Cassian grimaced. “Very real.” “People are making edits,” one of the younger Nightfall analysts offered unhelpfully from across the room.

Quinn’s POV I stood in the office, staring out into the view with my phone plastered to my ear. I could feel Miranda's stare on me as I made the phone call. “Yes, I understand.” My tablet was in my hand as I stared at all the articles . Every single post had been deleted. There was not a single one that had any story related to the post with Miranda and me. “Thank you.” I said and ended the call. “Did you clear up everything?” Miranda stood up and walked over to me.

Keith turned around and pretended to cry. “He passed a week ago. I’ll be looking after this place from now onwards and if you want to work here then you better start working right now.” John commanded. “Sure.” Keith talked to him and picked up the accounts book. John came and took the book from Keith’s hand. “Hold on! What do you think you’re doing?” “I'm doing what I do every day.” Keith smiled “Sorry but you won’t be doing it from now onwards. There were already a lot of errors in the book and a lot of missing amount. Don’t worry. I’ll take all the amount from you.” John winked at Keith and walked away.

It felt like there were so many things he could have avoided had he asked some questions or thought about them properly. It did not matter. It was already passed. None of it mattered. “What happened after my death in the previous world?” Suit’s smile faltered a little before letting out a chuckle. Anderson had recovered a little too quickly for his liking. “Nothing. The story will move on. The story always does. Just like here. After you die, everyone else will move on. I get you, your wife dies, and no one else will remember you even embarked on such a perilous journey.” Anderson just stared. “The story will always move on.” Suit finished his statement.

The next morning, the video of Reed carrying Mia out of the deli broke the Internet into awe. Women are going gaga over Reed. But as fast as it was released, someone removed it. No matter how many times the video was uploaded, it was deleted. Someone hacked into the host systems and even deleted the video from the host who uploaded the video. This process went on for a while until they removed all the traces of the video.

I deleted the conversation entirely. Trash belongs in the bin.

==Delilah== --- "Five hundred thousand dollars." The number hung in the air. Jennifer Cole. Producer. Paramount Pictures. On my phone. Offering half a million for a story I'd deleted. A manuscript that didn't exist anymore. "I don't have the manuscript," I said. "I'm sure you have drafts. Notes. Outlines. We can work with whatever you have." "I deleted everything." "Everything? No backups? No cloud storage?" I looked at Elliot. He was watching. Listening. Face unreadable.