Ibong Adarna Story

When the zombie apocalypse hit, pets leveled up into guardians. Three per person. That was the cap. My buddy dropped serious cash on three Caucasian Shepherds. My landlord dumped his fish and started raising crocodiles. My girlfriend bolted to the zoo and came back with a lion. Me? I had three strays. Bubba—blind. Missy—lame. Snowy—barely a month old. The second the system locked pet slots, I knew I was screwed. I barricaded myself inside with my three "broken" cats and kept my head down. Day one—fear. Day two—helpless. Day three—the cats strolled back in, tails up, dragging something I didn't recognize. Bubba looked at me. "Dad, I bit off every zombie head on the block. I'm solid, right?" I just stared.

Ang mga magulang ko ay dinala ako sa korte para makuha ang puso ko at maligtas ang ampon na kapatid kong babae. Ang judge ay gumamit ng advanced technology upang ma-extract ang aming mga alaala. Ang jury ng 100-katao ang magdedesisyon ng hatol. Kung ang mga magulang ko ang mananalo sa kaso, ang mga laman-loob ko ay mapupunta sa kanila. Sa tingin nila ay hindi ako magpapakita sa trial dahil sa tingin nila ay masamang tao ako. Gayunpaman, ang lahat ay napuno ng luha nang makita nila ang mga alala at ang katotohanan ng nangyari!

On my birthday, my boyfriend ditched his childhood friend's desperate call to be with me. Devastated by his rejection, she spiraled into depression and ended her life. Heartbroken, he proposed to me beside her body. "I've already lost Giselle. I can't lose you, too." I said yes, moved by his grief and sincerity. But on our wedding night, he turned on me, hacking me with a knife. "You vile woman! Giselle died because of you. Time to feel her pain!" As I bled out, the girl waltzed back, saying she'd faked her death to spook him. Overjoyed, he pointed at my corpse. "Thank God, you're alive. This wretched woman is gone, and we're free to be together." They looted my wealth for their lavish wedding and happy life. When my eyes snapped open again, I was back on that fateful birthday.

On the night of our fifth wedding anniversary, I set the table, lit the candles, and waited on the couch for my husband to come home. As I scrolled through my feed to pass the time, a message notification popped up–from his old classmate, Susie Cartman. "Angela, thanks to Calvin's seed, I can finally have my own baby." The message came with a selfie–her grinning at the camera, holding up a medical slip in one hand, flashing a peace sign with the other. I touched my stomach, where our child was quietly growing. Calvin… Did you really think everything in life would always go your way?

Because I saved my husband during a car accident, I lost my eyesight. He wept, promising to treat me well for the rest of our lives to repay my sacrifice. I cooperated with the treatment wholeheartedly, hoping for a full recovery. But on the day I finally regained my sight, I stumbled upon something that shattered my world. In our marital home, his first love lay beneath him, her flushed face betraying the passion of the moment. Their bodies intertwined, and the air around them thick with stifled moans—a vivid tableau of infidelity. "She's just a blind woman. Why haven't you divorced her yet?" the woman murmured impatiently, her voice laced with disdain as she moved against him. My husband, immersed in pleasure, still mumbled an excuse. "My love, just a little longer. Soon, we'll be together openly…" I turned and left without a word, pretending I had seen nothing. As I walked away, I remembered the witch's sacrificial ritual in the misty forest—only a few days away. My husband's betrayal cut deep, carving wounds I couldn't ignore. I made up my mind to return to the forest, to embrace my identity as a witch once more, and to sever all ties with him. Yet, after I disappeared, word reached me that he was searching for me everywhere like a madman. Rumor had it he had completely lost his mind.

The day my sister slipped away from her engagement party, she was certain Marshall Patton could never truly fall in love with me. Confident in her belief, she left the country without hesitation, leaving me behind to hold her place and secure the title of Mrs. Patton in her stead. I didn't cry or make a fuss. Instead, I played the part of the obedient stand-in, giving everyone the courtesy of maintaining appearances while I quietly bided my time. Then, I poured every ounce of effort into making Marshall fall for me, bit by bit. And when my sister finally returned, I made sure to walk away.

My parents take me to court to get my heart and save my adoptive sister. The judge uses advanced technology to extract our memories. A jury of 100 people decides the verdict. If my parents win the case, my organs will go to them. They think I won't dare to show up for the trial because they think I'm evil. However, everyone is overcome by tears when they see my memories and the truth of what happened!

I had just placed the winning bid on an outrageously expensive piece of jewelry, but the auctioneer refused to close the sale. When I pressed her for an explanation, she turned to my husband with tearful eyes and claimed that I always bring different men here to spend money. “Ma'am, as a professional, I can’t sit back and watch you keep deceiving people. “Sir, I’ll refund your money and even cover the loss myself. Just open your eyes and find someone who truly loves you.” My husband looked visibly moved, their gazes locking in front of everyone as if I wasn’t even there. With all eyes on me, I snatched back my black card. “It’s my card, my money. Why are you giving it to some social-climbing chauffeur?”

A group of unexpected guests suddenly barged into my relative’s funeral. The woman, Xena Carter, leading them claimed to be my husband’s girlfriend and declared that she was here to punish me, the supposed mistress. Out of respect for the funeral, I did not want to make a scene, so I calmly suggested she wait until it was over. But out of nowhere, she lashed out and ordered her group to shred all of my clothes. My relatives around us did nothing and watched coldly as it happened. I calmly dusted myself off, stood up, and led her over to the urn. "This urn for my mother was bought by your boyfriend. It cost nearly a million!" As expected, the mistress flew into a rage, smashing the urn to pieces. "You shameless family of lowlifes! Don’t think you’ll get a single cent from my boyfriend, even in death!" What she did not know was that when I said "mother," I was referring to my husband’s mother, my mother-in-law. She was causing a scene at my mother-in-law’s funeral, and she had just smashed her urn to pieces.

The moms at the company post about me online, claiming the free daycare I provide for their kids is a "prison" and a vile tactic to force them to work overtime. What they don't know is that the daycare was set up with imported equipment and staffed by internationally trained professionals. It costs nearly eight thousand dollars a month per child to operate. The internet curses me out, calling me a show-off and disgusting capitalist. So I grit my teeth and send out a company-wide announcement. "To support everyone's desire to handle their own childcare, the company has decided to close the free daycare program. Effective immediately, it will be replaced with a childcare benefit. Eligible mothers will receive 200 dollars a month." As soon as the notice goes out, the moms panic. They crowd outside my office, begging me not to shut it down.