Detective

Two months remained until debut evaluation night. Before our unit performance, our main dancer suddenly offered me her center position. I stared at her, confused, "The trainers always praise your stage presence. Why give up your spot?" "You... you deserve center more than I do." Her smile was painfully forced, and she was fidgeting with her practice clothes - obviously not saying what she really felt. Puzzled by her strange behavior, I asked, "Are my moves too big? Am I making it hard for you to perform?" She suddenly started shaking, looking at me with pure fear in her eyes. After what felt like forever, she finally choked out, "Please, just stop. I won't try to compete with you for center anymore!"

I am a miserable nurse. During the Halloween season, there was a three day break but I was not given any days off. Upset, I decided to join a game featuring a haunted hospital. There was an old man wrapped in IV tubes chasing after a player. I sprinted forward and shoved him into the chair. After effortlessly jabbing the IV line back in him, I told him off, "It’s just an IV drip. Quit moving around! Do you think you’re in some kind of movie pulling a stunt like that? If you keep moving around, I’ll strap you to the chair!" The old man did a double take before blinking in a flustered manner. "Sorry for causing you trouble, ma'am." At night, children ghosts began to run and laugh wildly in the corridor. I seized each child's hand. "If you’re not going to stay put in the ward, I’ll give you an injection!" Why did I still have to work in a game? I was so tired. The other players cried out, "Clem! That's a ghost. Are you not scared?" I sneered, "Oh, sorry. We wage slaves carry more resentment than any ghost."

My husband, Xylo Green, fell in love with the locust tree in our yard. At night, he would wrap his arms around it and kiss it. One day, my dad decided to plant vegetables in the yard, so he cut the tree down. The tree died in the morning, and by midnight, our whole family was gone. Suddenly, I was reincarnated to the day when Xylo was passionately chasing after me. He looked at me lovingly and said, “Olivia, can I be yours?” I smiled flatly. I did not want him anymore, but I would definitely take his life!

It's nighttime, and I'm on the toilet with my phone. I fire up Battleborn Arena, ready to grind a few ranked matches. But an unknown number flashes on-screen and cuts me off. Annoyed, I decline the call, and a WhatsApp message pops up immediately. "Run! Edgar just snapped. He's going to kill us all!" My hands tremble. Edgar Maguire… Isn't he already dead?

Amora di suruh bundanya untuk mengantarkan kue ke para tetangga. Namun, semua rumah mendadak kosong dan hanya satu rumah yang ada penghuninya. Amora masuk di sambut dengan Junior yang tengah sibuk memasak. Hingga kejadian tidak terduga menimpa mereka, warga menggerebeg mereka dengan dugaan mereka mesum dan itu sungguh meresahkan warga. Junior dan Amora pun di paksa harus menikah bahkan hampir di arak - arak warga. Setelah menikah mereka kembali di kejutkan dengan fakta - fakta baru, posesivenya Junior saat Amora bergoyang diiringi lagu dangdut di kantin sekolah, kecemburuan Junior dan masih banyak lagi bukti kalau cinta di antara mereka sudah tumbuh.

The lack of love and the family's ruin seems to be the best combination to love again. In the end, Mia doesn't know who to trust, but she alone is enough to care for the ones she loves.

Adrianna Valiente is a third-year Journalism student that suddenly got involved in a murder case. The worst is when she found out that the victim is her one and only best friend. Her eagerness to seek justice leads her to work with authority. There she met Daven, a student detective. The two of them work together to investigate the mysterious murder case that eventually had a connection to serial killings in their city. As Adrianna and Daven look beneath the case, the more they unravel a lot of mysteries that always make them ask--who is the killer?

I was a sketch artist acting for the police. On a secret mission, I was discovered by a murderer. My eyes were gouged out, and my body was dismembered, unceremoniously dumped in a garbage bin. On the brink of death, I called my boyfriend, a criminal investigator. However, he hung up on me because he was busy accompanying his first love to a prenatal checkup. A few days later, he received a painting that was a vital clue to finding the murderer, but he thought I was playing tricks on him. In his anger, he tore that portrait to shreds. After he found out the truth, he spent the whole night searching through the garbage to piece it back together.

My husband, who was a drug enforcement police officer, personally got me into rehab. My son was cheering on the side, saying that he no longer had to see me under the influence for a long time. After I was discharged, I discovered my husband moved in with his lover and our son. I begged him to come back and told him that someone would kill me. He did not believe me. Instead, he said coldly, “If you die, you better end up in a trash can. Otherwise, I’d have to deal with your body.” My son cheered at the side. “Mommy is finally gone!” After a week, I was dismembered. My body parts were found in multiple trash cans. He was the police in charge of the case.

I opened my eyes to a sharp sting in my arm. Pushing up my sleeve, I froze. A dense line of jagged letters had been carved into the skin of my right forearm: [This house has monsters! Every time I'm killed, I'm thrown into a loop and lose all my memories. With each death, I mark my hand.] Beneath the warning, three crooked tally marks were etched deep into my arm.