Knock Off Among Us Novels & Stories

I've reported that too. [Howard: Someone swiped 12 grand from my account. I've filed a report as well.] The chat went dead silent. Then, one by one, they bailed on the chat. First, it was Cindy. Becky followed her. Jim was next. Nevaeh dropped out, too. The chat group fell into a buzz of conversation. [So that's the story...] [More than 200,000 dollars. That's no chump change...] [It's no wonder Jim's been throwing money around like it's nothing these past couple of years...]

He was wearing his grim reaper cloack and a formal attire underneath. Shane's ears burned bright red while staring at Mara's mismatched eyes. He secretly pinched himself. "Knock! Knock!" He said and Mara chuckled. "Who's there?" She said. She knows about this modern joke. Shane's face burned brighter. He didn't mean it as a joke. He flicked Mara's forehead and then leaned closer to her. "It's Death, on your doorstep," He said and then planted a kiss on her forehead. "It's Death, on your doorstep, who?" Mara asked.

“My parents want us for family dinner tonight at seven. Important guests will be there. Dress nicely. I’ll pick you up at six.” I stayed quiet. “You okay?” he asked casually. “Yes,” I replied softly. “Good. Love you.” He hung up. Those words felt completely empty now. The thought of pretending again tonight made me feel suffocated. Before I could change my mind, I messaged the stranger from the gala. “I can’t meet today. Family obligation. Sorry.” His reply came fast. “Not the type to give up easily. Come to my apartment instead. 2 pm. Just talk. No pressure.”

Zane leaned over my shoulder, eyes wide in shock. My jaw clenched hard. In my previous life, I’d also looked at Adrian’s robot earlier in the day and seen nothing suspicious, so I hadn’t paid it any attention. It wasn’t until the last thirty minutes before the submission deadline that I discovered his robot was a carbon copy of mine. I had scrambled to report it to the organizers and even posted the entire assembly process online. However, the organizers didn’t believe me, and Adrian’s rabid fans tore into me. "River, the copycat! Always stealing from our genius, and now you’re trying to frame him? Shameless!"

Her aura of untouchable power faltered under the combined presence of Grayson and me. Grayson’s other hand came up, brushing a loose strand of hair from my face, lingering near my jawline. Mary’s voice cut through the charged silence. “You are playing a dangerous game.” Grayson leaned slightly closer, eyes locked on hers, but his hand never left mine. “The only dangerous game here was you trying to manipulate the narrative. That is done.” I felt a heat rise between us. My body responded even as my mind stayed razor-sharp. We are a team. We are untouchable together.

... At a renowned publishing house in Asteron, Kimberly typed diligently, focused on her manuscript. Her editor had just informed her that her contest entry passed the preliminary round, and now she needed a new piece for the next stage. Hannah called. "Kimberly, check your phone. It's explosive!" Kimberly, puzzled, opened her device and saw the top trending topic with the hashtag #Siena's Private Character. Clicking in, she found a flood of scandals, retweeted by prominent producers and directors. Their line was all the same: [Immoral artist Siena Gallegos is permanently blacklisted!]

The magnet storm intensified on the fourth day. Every piece of metal in the city was stuck together. The roads were covered in warped metal blocks. Broken steel bars protruded from the walls of many buildings. Barely anyone spoke in the group chat anymore. Most of the messages were notifications from the system. "Connor Edwards has been eliminated. "Sonya Larkman has been eliminated. "William Green has been eliminated." There were only 25 survivors left in the game. Half of the players had perished.

"Did you transfer the money, Allison?" I didn’t reply. Instead, I cast my phone screen onto the television. Every single message between us appeared in plain sight, right on the big screen. Her smile froze on her face. The room fell silent as everyone stared, wide-eyed. Aunt Mary stood motionless, her eyes glued to the screen. The ever-clueless Ben began reading the messages out loud: [I have no money left, Allison. Can you lend me 2,000 dollars for rent? If not, I’ll get kicked out!]

Besides, I already knew this world was part of a novel, on a story centered around Paul, so calling the police wouldn't have mattered as much as letting him handle it. Just as I began to finally relax, I heard two soft knocks at the door. "Food delivery's here!" My heart skipped a beat. I looked up, ready to stop him, but the retired officer had quietly moved to the door, his hand on the handle. Muttering to himself, he said, "Huh… I don't remember ordering food." I panicked and blurted out, "Don't open the door!" Alas, it was too late. The moment the door clicked open, the killer rushed in with the chainsaw.

Jack was on the door I didn’t hear the knock at first. It came again, soft but steady. I checked the time—10:14. Weird. Slipping on my hoodie, I padded barefoot to the door and opened it a crack. Jack stood there, hoodie half-zipped, curls wet from the shower he must’ve taken after I went up. “I didn’t wake you?” he asked. I shook my head. “What’s up?” He held up a hoodie—one of mine. Black, oversized, with a stitched sun and moon design I’d embroidered myself. “You dropped this in the laundry earlier. Figured you’d want it before bed.”