Floor Guardians Overlord

***This book contains violence, cursing, sexual content, and talk of suicide, enjoy at your discretion.*** I was walking through an unknown foggy forest when I spotted a field of wildflowers. My feet had a mind of their own as they led me to wander through the flowers. I nonchalantly dragged my hands over the flowers. It was a beautiful and serene sight. I deeply inhaled the sweet scent of the flower and gave a little shudder of bliss. I closed my eyes and just absorbed the moment wanting to remember it. Suddenly the sounds of paws hitting the forest floor overwhelmed me. Then the forest was ignited with flames. Everything glowed vibrant oranges and reds as heavy smoke smothered me from above. I threw myself to the ground desperate for any trace of clean air. As I attempted to crawl out of the flowers a new sound harmonized with the thunder paws, screams and howls for help terrorized me. I clawed at the ground desperate to escape the menacing choir. Fire licked my skin and I screamed for help. Sobs escaped my lips as flaming branches fell on me from above. The smell of burning flesh was the only thing that consumed me as everything went dark.

As Christmas drew near, my little sister claimed she’d seen Santa Claus in the house. “He had four legs, real long, like dead branches. He crawled on the floor like a dog. His mouth was full of teeth, and I saw him with my own eyes, climbing out of the chimney. His bones were making this clicking, clacking sound.” The Santa she described was nothing like the legends. My parents and I thought it was just her imagination. Until I posted about it online. A user named “NocturneNotes” insisted my sister wasn’t lying, and that the thing was dangerous. Panicked, I asked him what we should do. He gave me three rules: “On Christmas Eve, from 11:30 PM to 2:00 AM, the entire family must ‘sleep’ by the Christmas tree.” “You can’t actually fall asleep, or you’ll die in your sleep.” “No matter what you hear or feel, you absolutely cannot open your eyes or stop pretending to be asleep. Once it hits 2:00 AM, it will leave on its own.”

Inhaling shakily, I picked up the envelope and gave him a confused look. “What is this?” “Divorce papers,” He snarled. “Sign it before tomorrow ends and leave my house, you fucking leech!” “It’s because of Laura, isn’t it?” I kept my gaze rooted to the floor, as tears rolled down my cheeks. “I don’t have time for your useless questions. Just sign the damn papers and leave!” He barked, before marching upstairs. + Catherine Williams and Alessandro Da Silva used to be a loving couple until Alessandro’s first love waltzed back into their lives and ruined their marriage. On their third wedding anniversary, Alessandro comes home and tosses a divorce agreement at Catherine. She quietly signs it and walks out of his life, secretly pregnant. Five years later, they meet again when Alessandro’s ailing grandmother is in need of a neurosurgeon. Catherine has now become one of the top neurosurgeons in the country. Will she ignore her resentment toward her ex-husband to treat her? What more when Alessandro finds out about their twin sons? Will he ever be able to get her forgiveness?

I've decided to hire Queenie Sullivan, an impoverished student with excellent grades, as my tutor in my studies. However, she asked me whether or not she could bring another student named Timothy Dunn with her to the tutor session. After I turned her request down politely, Timothy left while looking crestfallen. But he got into an accident immediately afterward. Queenie continued to tutor me. Gradually, we started dating, and we got married later on. Life was amazing after our marriage… or so it seemed. Unfortunately, I was diagnosed with stomach cancer. On the night when my cancer tormented me to no end, Queenie locked me up at home and watched as I painted the floor with the blood I hacked out. "You owe Timothy this much, Zachary. It's your turn to have a taste of despair." Only then did realization dawn on me. It turned out that Queenie had been hating me all these years. When I open my eyes again, I've returned to the day Queenie has asked me if she can bring Timothy along with her to the tutor session.

When my husband Joshua dragged his student Linda Moore into our apartment, I didn't even blink—I gave up the bed. Last time, it'd been pouring when he showed up with her in the middle of the night. Told me to crash on the floor with my daughter Mia and gave Linda the bed like it was nothing. I lost it. Fought with him, snapped at her. She bolted, slipped into a ditch, and supposedly drowned. Joshua said nothing. Then, one night, with the storm going wild outside, he pried open a manhole and dumped me and Mia in like trash. "Linda's my mentor's daughter. She's dead—how am I supposed to face him? You two can apologize yourselves." We didn't even get to scream before that freezing, disgusting water swallowed us whole. Turns out, Linda faked the whole thing. Just a twisted joke to punish me. Joshua moved her in right after, like nothing happened. Now, thunder cracked again as the door opened—and there he was, Linda right behind him.

After being missing for 18 years, Mom and Dad finally found me. Jillian Swain, the fake heiress, crumples to the floor and starts sobbing. "Goodbye, Mom and Dad. Thanks for taking care of me all these years. But now that Wanda is home, I'm sure you don't have any use for me anymore." Mom and Dad hug her, completely heartbroken. "Sweetheart, don't talk like that! You're our only real daughter, now and always!" Even Harvey Schumer, the guy I was promised to as a kid, declares his love for her. "Forget who you really are. You're the only one I love." They're all tripping over each other to fuss over Jillian. They even throw a birthday celebration for her dog while I'm barely hanging on after a car crash. So I pack up my things, accept the space agency's offer, and slip away into a five-year confidential satellite research project. But the whole family freaks out the second I'm gone, turning the country upside down, searching for me.

What will you do if one day, you suddenly wake up with ears above your head and tails behind your back? What if you suddenly came back to how you were, 20 years ago, just with different eyes and hair color? Coming home from a late-night party, Tiffany George passed out as soon as she felt the softness and warmth of her comfy bed. She stinks of alcohol, explaining her carefree behavior, resulting into a deep sleep with her corporate attire on. On the next day, a phone call had woken her up. She massaged her aching temples and reached for her phone on the bedside table. She answered it without even bothering to look at the caller ID, her voice hoarse as she said hello. “Ms. George, what time do you think is it?” a cold voice floated over the phone, waking Tiffany out of her daze. She immediately hung-up the call and rose from the bed. But the moment she tried to reach the floor with her feet… she realized something amiss. She touched her face and felt her chest… A long silence ensued before her loud scream filled the entire room.

(⚠️ WARNING HARD SPG) "How's your feeling,?" he asked her while laying down on the floor and rested his head on his folded arms. "I will never be okay again, even though these wounds will be healed but the scratch will remain forever, and that's a remembrance all the pain you made," she said while closing her eyes, she was shocked when he lay down next to her. "Would you tell me How can I erased that's scars," he said and she even feels his Fragrance breathe upon her neck. he wrapped his arms around his waist like he apologizing to her. "Let me go," she said and he release his arms. "What İ mean, is let me go home, İ won't sue you just take me back where the Placed I used to," she said and he just sighed. "NO," he said and she faced at him. "What do you mean no, you asked me what you need to do how to erase the scars you made," she said. "You can request anything except to let you go," his voice cold. READ AND ENJOY!

"Dad? Tell me it's not true! You didn't steal the painting from Mr. Miller, did you?" asked Rebecca almost in a whisper, her body trembling violently, she was not ready to hear the answer. "I'm sorry Becky, I'm so sorry..." Rebecca sat limply on the floor, unable to believe what she had just heard. "Okay, that's enough! You've heard it clearly, right, Ms. Beckett? Your father will pawn you to me until he could return the painting that he stole from me! John, take her!" interrupted James Miller, the billionaire whose painting was stolen by William Becket, Rebecca's father. From that day on, Rebecca's life was no longer the same, she had to give up her freedom by living with James Miller and serving all his needs. At first, everything was going fine until one day James Miller found out that William Beckett was collaborating with a Russian mafia in the theft of his painting and had absolutely no intention of returning the painting to him. He became very angry and began to make Rebecca's 'life' a threat. But one drunken night turned things upside down...

I'm a major suspect in the in-law murder case in Nexford. My husband, Roland Turner, also known as the police chief, personally arrests me. During my trial, the murderer commits yet another murder. The latest victims are killed once again using the same brutal method. Roland kneels on the floor while begging me to tell him the truth. I answer him that I have no idea what it is. At the same time, the victims' families keep screaming at me, wanting to skin me alive for my crimes. Three months later, Roland brings a Memory Decryptor with him. He finds me near a pile of trash. With trembling hands, he pierces two thin needles through my temples. "I'm so sorry, Wendy. I know you're not the murderer, but I just want this slaughterfest to end. I don't want to see anyone else die again. "We can also use this chance to show your memories to everyone. That way, we can find out what the actual truth is." But once he views my memories, he suffers from an emotional breakdown and sinks to his knees.