Died Suddenly Rumble

"Let me go," She said, twisting her arm, trying to wriggle out of his brutal hold. His proximity had her heart jackhammering in her ears as tears threatened to spill out. The beast of a man roughly turned her around before grabbing her delicate throat in his big veiny hand as he yanked her to him. His tan skin contrasted against her snow one as his thumb stroked the soft flesh of her swan-like neck. Her toes were barely touching the ground as she stared petrified at the man hovering over her seemingly deranged. His hot breath caressed her face and had chills running down her spine. He looked possessed. "You're mine, f*cking MINE!" He seethed a low rumble as she flinched away. His amber rims were blazing pits as they gazed at her with an unadulterated ferocity. Her chin wobbled and her plump lips trembled as the girl shook her head trying to get away from him and her struggles grew frantic. She was so scared. His jaw clenched and his nose flared in rage. "So you won't listen, huh." He rasped in a low snarl before letting her go. She took three steps away from him, clutching her hands on her chest. Her whole body trembled wildly as she saw him locking the door before he faced her while unbuttoning his shirt and her heart dropped down into the depths of utter terror, she shook her head involuntarily. "Strip, little tigress. Strip for me." He gritted viciously causing her heart to lurch to her mouth.

My twin sister died on her 18th birthday. She died of respiratory failure in a dark corner of a hotel after being raped. Her dearest friend, Joanne Lowe, whom she always cared for and supported, turned around and anonymously spread photos of my sister being raped. I then slowly ruined the face which had so badly wanted to replace my sister with a knife. With blood everywhere, I cradled Joanne's face as if it were a piece of art and said, "My beloved sister is gone, and you people who harmed her won't be let off so easily."

Late one night after getting off work, I was scrolling through my company group chat when a colleague shared a piece of news. The headline was horrifying. "Night-Shift Courier Murdered During Delivery, Police Suspect Robbery." I zoomed in on the crime scene photo that had been partially pixelated, and a chill ran straight down my spine. Lying in a pool of blood, the courier who had been hacked to death was unmistakably me. I had scrolled into news of my own death. Almost at the same time, my delivery app began vibrating violently. "Urgent pickup! Destination: Unit 704 Hawthorne Ridge Apartments, Building 7. Time limit: 15 minutes. Penalty for timeout: Death." As I stared at the notification that read "Pickup failed three times", the searing pain of my brutal death surged through my body. So that was it. I had already died three times. When I forced open the half-closed security door of 704 for the fourth time, a thin delivery envelope lay quietly inside. I tore it open. A photograph slipped out. It was a picture of my dismembered body. The timestamp showed tomorrow at 7:00 a.m. On the back was a single line written in fresh blood: "Next time, remember to pick it up on time." At that moment, the red indicator light on the hallway surveillance camera suddenly went dark. I looked up. From the ventilation opening in the exact same spot, a single eye was staring straight at me. The mole at the corner of that eye was identical to mine.

On the day of my son's one-month celebration, my notoriously stingy sister-in-law surprised me with a branded baby bottle. But instead of accepting it, I turned away and gave it to the neighbor's cruel son who had XYY syndrome. In my previous life, I had accepted that bottle with genuine gratitude, using it day and night to feed my son. I never imagined that a month later, in the dead of night, my son would suddenly suffer a heart attack and die in my arms. Strangely enough, the very next day after my son passed, my sister-in-law's sickly child—who had been confined to the neonatal intensive care unit since birth—was miraculously discharged in perfect health. Losing my son shattered me completely. I spent my days drowning in tears. My husband called me a cursed woman, claimed I brought nothing but disaster, and demanded a divorce. Not only that, but he insisted I leave with nothing. When I refused, he and my sister-in-law joined forces and accidentally beat me to death. It wasn't until after I died that I learned the truth. The woman I had thought was my husband's younger sister wasn't his blood relative at all. She had been adopted by his mother years ago to be raised as his future wife. Together, they had plotted to destroy me. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the very day my sister-in-law handed me that baby bottle.

Jeltrod Bonifacio is a 17th-year-old woman who does not know her past because of the accident that happened to her five years ago. When the mysterious people around her came to remind her past and to know who she is. But because of these people, her life suddenly changes and everyone around her was suddenly strange. Until she found out the reason why that happened to them.

The night before Grandma's surgery, I pulled my adoptive father, Robert Shaw, into the office and made him stay up with me, going through the medical plans in detail until dawn. All this was because, in my previous life, when Grandma's heart condition suddenly worsened, the "real daughter", my younger sister, Jill Shaw, insisted on taking my position as Grandma's attending physician so she could personally perform Grandma's heart transplant. I knew she had only attended a three-year vocational nursing school, so I refused. However, Jill thought that I was humiliating her. To prove herself, she impersonated me and secretly performed the surgery on Grandma. The next day, Grandma died on the spot from a rejection reaction. Her blood vessels ruptured. When Robert arrived at the scene, Jill immediately threw herself in his arms, sobbing, "Dad, I never thought that Janice would be so afraid of me taking her spot as the attending physician that she'd break hospital rules and operate on Grandma in the middle of the night!" Before I could explain myself, my adoptive mother, Molly Walton, jumped in to accuse me, "Janice, you're a murderer! Grandma trusted Jill to operate on her, so you tampered with the surgery and killed her!" Robert, blinded by rage, shoved me straight off the 36th floor. When I opened my eyes again, I had returned to the very day Jill planned to operate on Grandma.

Before the couple died they swore that they would be born again to continue their love. King Aegaeus chose to live in the mortal world for the sake of the woman he loved.

Xerra wants to take revenge when her mother died in the Aryan palace. However, a handsome stranger might thwart her mission.

My sister-in-law, Alicia, insisted that her son was a chosen fighter, blessed by God and immune to harm. The truth was far darker: every injury meant for him was being transferred onto my daughter. His congenital heart disease disappeared overnight. While most children his age were still carefully protected, he was already taking part in extreme sports and never suffered so much as a scratch. Meanwhile, my once-healthy daughter weakened day by day. She began to suffer unexplained fractures throughout her body. There was not a single place left uninjured. It was impossible not to see the connection. When I voiced my suspicions to my husband, Jeff Charlton, and my mother-in-law, Kelly Freeman, they dismissed me as delusional. They accused me of being jealous that Alicia had given birth to a prodigy, while I had nothing but a "worthless" daughter. Later, Alicia's son completed a trek across the Saharain Desert and became an overnight sensation, a child star adored by millions. At the same time, my daughter suddenly collapsed from heatstroke and died without warning. Alicia went live on her platform, accusing me of making false claims out of envy. Her followers believed every word. They hunted me down and ended my life. When I opened my eyes again, I found myself back at the moment Alicia first proclaimed her son a miracle child. This time, I was no longer a powerless mother. As a specialist doctor, I calmly pulled on my gloves. "Alicia," I said with a smile, "Let me examine my nephew and see if he's truly cured."

I was drugged. A male Rogue pinned me beneath him while my body went limp and useless. Just then, the door burst open. Vanessa Nightshade stormed in with several elders behind her. "Elders, look! I knew Seraphina was sneaking around with a Rogue!" Panic shot through me. I tried to explain, but the Rogue suddenly tore my clothes open. The red marks all over my body were on full display. "You were into it a minute ago. Now, you want to act innocent?" the Rogue sneered. Vanessa's eyes went wide. "Seraphina Thorncross! I never thought you'd sink this low, betraying your own Alpha! Elders, if she becomes our Luna, how can members of our pack show our face to anyone?" "No, I didn't..." I tried desperately to defend myself, but my mate, Axel Ravenscar, cut me off. "Seraphina, you were so jealous I found my fated mate that you jumped into bed with this trash on my birthday? Since our ten years together mean nothing to you, don't blame me for what I'm about to do." To appease his fated mate and the elders, he killed our unborn pup with his own hands and drained the blood from my body. After I died, he went insane looking for me. He dropped to his knees and begged me to be his Luna, begging me to forgive him.