Hercules Eighth Labor Novels & Stories

When the babies in my womb were about five months old, I suddenly heard my daughter's voice in my head. "Mommy, Bella is trying to get rid of me. She's grabbing my umbilical cord with her hands. It hurts so much…" Believing Ava, I forced myself to eat nonstop and take every supplement I could. I even asked the doctor whether there was any medicine that could suppress Bella's growth. When I was in labor, the fetuses were too large. I lost so much blood and only delivered Ava before I died. Bella died in me as well. Right before my consciousness faded, I saw the newly born Ava looking at me with a wicked smile. "You idiot. You believed everything I said. Your luck, Bella's luck, and even Daddy's luck. I'll gladly take them all." Only then did I realize that Ava, whom I fought so hard to give birth to, was a monster. When I opened my eyes again, it was back to the very first day I heard Ava's voice in my head.

As the college entrance exams approached, I paid the top student in our class to tutor me. But the day she came over, she brought along her childhood sweetheart and insisted that he join our study sessions. I declined her request politely, and she did not press the matter further. The boy left my house in defeat and was struck by a car, suffering injuries so severe that they left him crippled. He could no longer continue his education and was forced to drop out, taking on grueling manual labor to survive. The girl continued tutoring me nonetheless. We both gained admission to the same university, grew close over time, fell in love, got married, and started a family. But on the night of our wedding anniversary, Sharon slipped poison into my soup and watched impassively as I began to convulse and vomit blood, the crimson stain spreading slowly across the floor. "This is what you owe Harry," she said with cold venom. "Taste what it's like to lose all hope." It turned out that she had harbored resentment toward me for all those years. When I opened my eyes again, I was back to the day she first came to my house with her friend.

When Levi Ezra and I got married, he had solemnly vowed he would love me for a lifetime. Seven years later, he got another woman pregnant — a woman he had so carefully tucked away in a luxurious estate, complete with everything money could buy for a perfect, pampered delivery. By the time I discovered the truth, his mistress's belly was already round and heavy. Her due date was just around the corner. Levi had hesitated — for barely a second — before instinctively shielding her behind him, as though I were some threat. He said, "Nikki, you're terrified of childbirth. Now that this baby is coming, the Ezra family will finally have an heir. You won't have to suffer anymore. We'll still be the same as before. Nothing will change." I clutched the freshly issued pregnancy report in my hand — the one confirming my own child — and let out a laugh so sharp and brittle that it shattered into tears. The day his mistress went into labor, I terminated my pregnancy. I left the divorce papers on his desk, packed my bags, and boarded the first flight to a foreign land.

For five years of marriage, Sophie Lane had always believed her husband, Daniel Hart, was just an ordinary call center operator. He was busy with work, so she learned to handle everything at home on her own. His salary was low, so she stretched every dollar as far as it could go. It wasn’t until she was hospitalized during a difficult labor and ran into Daniel accompanying his fallen comrade’s widow, Clara Bailey, that she finally learned the truth. Daniel had never been a call center operator at all; he was a commanding officer in an elite unit. To give all the privileges of a commander’s wife to his childhood sweetheart, Clara, he had hidden his identity from Sophie for five years. When Clara lost her child, and to spare her the pain, he had even made Sophie give her own baby to her. Sophie’s heart went completely cold. After recovering in the hospital, she went alone to audition for an out-of-town performing arts company. With the offer letter in hand, she petitioned the court for divorce. She was going to end this marriage built on lies. And leave Daniel forever.

My girlfriend called me frantically out of the blue, saying her mother's water had broken. She begged me to take them to the hospital. But I lazily hung up the phone and turned away, buying myself an ice cream bar instead. In my previous life, her mother had also gone into labor late in life. I had risked everything to rush her to the hospital, running twelve red lights, pushing my car to the limit until the fuel gauge nearly burst. Yet, despite all that, her mother had lost the baby. Worse still, she turned around and accused me of killing the baby. My girlfriend had hated me for it, blaming me for her mother's inability to have children again. That very night, she and her shameless relatives took over my family's house, forcing my parents into such anger and despair that they ended up in the hospital. My company went bankrupt, and as if that weren't enough, I was beaten so severely that both my legs were broken. In the end, I fell into a deep depression and took my own life. But when I opened my eyes again, I found myself reborn. This time, I uncovered the secret her mother had been hiding.

Over Labor Day weekend, my workaholic husband finally agreed to take our two kids on a beach vacation. I was out on the water with my son, Blake Warren, when the ocean surface suddenly exploded with 99 towering columns of water. Blake nearly tumbled into the sea from the shock, screaming as he clung to me desperately. From a yacht not far away came the cheers of my husband, Zachary Warren, and his secretary, Celeste Quinn. I gripped my phone tightly and called him. "Zachary, have you lost your mind? Stop this right now! Blake is here too!" Yet, he only sneered. "You wouldn't let Celeste come on this trip, and she's been upset for days because of it. She got her feelings hurt, so I have to make it up to her somehow. Besides, it'd be better if that bastard son of yours just died anyway. Then, he ordered someone beside him, "Fire 50 more torpedoes. Teach her a lesson she won't forget." Before he had even finished speaking, wave after wave of water columns erupted around my boat. As Blake was about to fall into the water, I screamed with every ounce of strength I had left. "Zachary! Stop this now! This is your own son, Blake!"

My husband brings a pregnant Meryl Cleat home and lies to me, claiming that she's his stepmother. I'm wholly against the idea, but she says, "The children will call you their mother when they're born, so you don't have to go through the pain of childbirth. Think about how lucky you are, experiencing motherhood without the suffering!" I demand a divorce in the heat of the moment; Meryl is so infuriated by this that she faces labor complications and later dies. Out of guilt, I become a stay-at-home mother to care for her two super male kids. Yet they scaled me with boiling water and blind me in one eye. My health deteriorates under their intense torment, and I'm diagnosed with uremia. That's when I accidentally discover Meryl isn't my stepmother—she's my husband's mistress! I'm in despair when I return home. To make matters worse, I catch her—when she's supposed to be dead—and my husband in bed together. Her two super male sons ultimately stab me to death. When I open my eyes again, I'm taken back to the day she fakes her death!

A painter, artist, and an engineer single father named Mike living with his Mom Rose, He was been single father since Alice died in giving birth to Augustine, years later he worked as an engineer contracted three years of bridge project with his co-engineer Angel and they became close till years passed by where their project will end. Angel confesses in a letter to Mike that she likes him, and he was willing because he also likes Angel as their relationship went through, A test result came in that he has a liver cancer stage one only his Mother know this. He desired not to tell this to Angel instead he gave her a small box for the birthday with nine letters inside it but all is ten as he instructs every year on her birthday she will open one letter and if all nine will do, he will give the tenth letter which he designates the very important one. But eight years later Mike died in the eighth letter Angel had only one, The nine and it came to the point where she need to get the tenth letter but don't know. Instead she visits Mike grave as she there, un-expectedly a voice of a child calling her name as Angel turns around she saw a child amused walking to her holding the tenth letter she doesn't even know who's this child but the woman who followed back, is Mike's mother Rose as the child reach in front of her, He hand the tenth letter to her. Minutes of reading heavy tears appear and she knees down to the child and hugs him then Angel whispered "he's resting forever but no worries Augustine father is always okay promise I'm always here for you Son" And she heavily cried.

“I hate you, Maeve. You are so foolish. Your father was smarter, making me sign that prenup, but I killed him, and now that you signed everything over to Sandra and me, the woman I truly love, I have no use for you,” Dylan Grayson confessed without remorse, pushing his heavily wife, Maeve Cambridge, down the stairs in the course of her labor pains. Before she died, her ex-husband, Gabriel Scott, whom she divorced right after a forced marriage to marry Dylan Grayson, lifted her lifeless body into his arms, and his confession brought unease to her soul, “I’m sorry, Maeve, I got here too late, but please don’t die on me. I know you don’t love me, but I can live with it. I just can’t live without you,” Grabriel sobbed in the crook of her neck. Reborn to the time of her engagement to Dylan, Maeve was determined to pay him back with his own coin and love only Gabriel, but upon meeting him again, Gabriel proudly wore a wedding ring Maeve never saw before, and rumor had it that he leaves the office early to his mysterious wife every day. So, was it too late to love the only man who loved her?

Even after being married for three years, my husband treats me like a stranger. When I throw up blood from pregnancy complications, he's in the prayer room chanting for his foster sister, Yvie Springton. He accuses me of being dramatic. If Yvie so much as gets a headache, he drops everything and flies overseas to be by her side. When his parents are in critical condition after a car crash, I beg him to go see them one last time. But what does he do? He claims I'm cursing Yvie. When I go into early labor and cling to life after giving birth to our son, he posts a photo of his international boarding pass on social media. At his parents' funeral, he returns to the country with Yvie and demands I leave the marriage with nothing. The day our divorce finalizes, he holds a wedding ceremony with her. I bury his parents alone. Then, at an exclusive auction, dead set on winning the famous painting for Yvie, he offered a staggering price. Even his accounts are frozen. That's when he finally realizes he's been disowned by the Springton family. His eyes are bloodshot, and he's furious as he demands answers. I simply gesture for my lawyer to step forward. He says, "Mr. Springton, take a look at this will."