Plot Twists Ideas Novels & Stories

In the backyard of my home, there is a dark red jar that is about half a person's height. It is half buried in the ground, and my whole family forbids me from going near it. But I hear someone inside the jar calling me over and over. That voice says, "Sis, I miss you so much."

My new next-door neighbour was a total hottie. He fixed my plumbing and brought over baked goods, basically the perfect gentleman. However, I could see a bright red stat hanging over his head. Malice Level: 1,111 It could only mean he was out to get me. One night, he snapped my stalker’s wrist, and red digits reset to zero. Somehow, his murder meter turned into a pink possessiveness score of 9,999+. He wiped the blood off his hand, his tone eerily gentle. “Who gave you the right to touch my prey?”

Five years ago, the Gotti family, who were on the verge of bankruptcy, managed to rise from the ashes thanks to my investment. Eventually, they develop their company into a firearms company that's well-known in the west, and they earn over hundreds of millions of dollars' worth of profits annually. At the celebratory party, Elena Bellini, the HR manager who has only joined the company for less than a month, shows my photo and my salary. She then berates me for skipping out on work and stealing from the company. "Half a year ago, Valentina went missing for more than a month for no reason! Even when she's needed for work at the company, she's nowhere to be found! "Also, how can a bottom feeder like her afford to spend money at the high-end restaurants and malls?" Elena keeps her head raised high as she looks at me in disdain. "The reason why Valentina has disappeared is so that she can steal expensive items from the company and sell them to other clients! This photo of her stealing a bottle of red wine is the proof! "I strongly suggest that Valentina is to be dismissed on the spot! We can't let her continue breaking the company's rules!" I remain silent as I turn to look at Matteo Gotti, the CEO of the company. He knows that a bunch of robbers had stolen a batch of important products half a year ago. I was the one who had snatched everything back without a weapon under my arsenal, seeing as I had walked past the warehouse by coincidence at that time. Because of that, I ended up getting injured and had to spend a month just to recuperate. Matteo also knows that I've taken the red wine just to entertain the other mafia leaders, who happen to be the company's clients. That red wine isn't for my own consumption at all. But he has the nerve to chuck the folder away angrily before glaring at me coldly, as though I truly am a criminal. "Valentina Caruso, is Elena speaking the truth? You'd better explain yourself right now!" I just sneer at him in return. "I have nothing to say." The frightening reality and the outcome, which is obviously a failure, is the best explanation I've given them.

On the day we got our marriage license, Ryan Miller laid down a rule: now that we were married, if we slept in separate rooms for more than a week, we were automatically considered divorced. So every time we argued, the moment he picked up his pillow and headed for the guest room, I'd immediately give in and apologize, no matter who was at fault. For three years, he used that one rule to control me completely. On my 28th birthday, he stood me up again because of an intern at work. When he got home, I didn't reach for the diamond necklace he held out to me. He frowned, studying me for a long moment before finally speaking, his voice cold. "So, in your eyes, a birthday that comes every single year is more important than someone's life? I took Katie to the hospital and came back as fast as I could, but you still want to pick a fight? Emily, your jealousy honestly scares me." With that, he turned and walked toward the guest room. But this time, I didn't follow him.

The day my little brother had his asthma attack, I poured every drop of his nebulizer medication down the bathroom sink. When Mom burst into the bathroom, the empty bottle was still dripping in my hand. Cradling my gasping brother in her arms, she slapped me across the face so hard that my ears rang. "You're only eight years old! How can you be this evil? Would you finally be happy if he died?" I wanted to tell her that the medicine was not the right one. The bottle smelled like harsh, burning bleach. The new nanny, Sophia, had grabbed the wrong bottle from the cleaning closet. But Mom didn't let me finish. She grabbed my arm, dragged me into the unfinished walk-in closet and locked the door from the outside. "You can come out when you realize your brother's life is more important than your petty jealousy." Outside, Dad was screaming while rushing my brother to the ER. Inside, I mistakenly knocked my foot over a plastic construction bucket and a thick, toxic white liquid began to puddle over my bare feet. I clawed at the door gap with my fingernails, sobbing, begging for Mom. The next morning, the hospital called. They confirmed that my brother's medication was laced with industrial cleaner. That was the exact moment Mom finally remembered that the key to the closet I was locked in was still sitting in her purse…

On graduation day, Chloe Pierce said she wanted to film an extreme challenge video. She told me to stand near the edge of a cliff and said it was just for a photo. Then she suddenly threw herself backward and screamed, "Don't push me." The rope snapped, and she really fell. The entire internet called me a murderer. My mother knelt in front of the cameras and begged for me until a brain hemorrhage took her life. I hanged myself with a shoelace in the detention center. When I opened my eyes again, I was back to the day before the trip. This time, I smiled at Chloe and said, "I'll help you check the rope."

After Dominic Hatch loses his memories, he refuses to believe that I'm his wife. "If you really are my wife, why is it that there aren't any photos of us together?" I explain to him that he doesn't like taking photos. That's why we didn't even have a wedding portrait of us. But soon, Dominic digs out nine thick and heavy photo albums from a hidden compartment in his safe. The main characters in those albums are him and another unfamiliar woman. There are countless photos documenting their journey—from they were still children to when they had completely grown up. The pure and innocence on their faces slowly give way to the sappy love and affection they have for each other. In fact, Dominic and the woman even had a wedding portrait of their own. At the back of the photo, a passionate "I love you" is scrawled there. I feel the blood in my veins turning to ice. With a trembling hand, I dig out my marriage certificate. Dominic merely glances at it before scoffing at me. "The edge of the seal is crooked! Clearly, this copy is forged!" My mind buzzes loudly at that moment. At the same time, the system's warning blares loudly in my mind. "This marks the end of the marriage registration mission. You have failed the mission. Commencing eradication protocol. Countdown: 48 hours remaining."

The day my husband's first love, who was my sister, died, he sent me into the wilderness, all because I was not a match for the kidney transplant she needed. "Make sure Lisa can’t leave. For pretending to be Emma’s little sister, it’s time she learns her lesson," he ordered. I was abandoned in the dense forest, trapped, and left to fend for myself. Desperate, I sought shelter in a cave, trying to survive. However, wild animals soon picked up my scent and surrounded the cave. In the end, they tore me apart, and I died a brutal, painful death, with my body left exposed and torn in the wilderness. When Benjamin finally saw what was left of me, he lost his mind.

After my husband died in a car accident, I worked tirelessly running a small restaurant to raise my son, Henry. Right before Henry's wedding, I won eight million in the lottery. Thrilled, I decided to sell the restaurant and finally enjoy retirement. So, I called to tell Henry about selling the restaurant, his usually polite fiancée turned hostile. "You're not expecting us to support you, are you? We've barely started working!" She even warned Henry, "If you spend any of our money on your mom, the wedding's off!" Henry argued with her but then reassured me, promising, "You've worked hard enough, Mom. I'll take care of you." Feeling pretty good, I planned to give him two million to start a business. The next day, I got a call saying Henry had been in a serious car accident and urgently needed fifty thousand for surgery. I sent the money immediately, but afterward, Henry vanished. Desperate, I braved a storm to find him in his city, only to walk into a wedding at some fancy hotel. There's Henry, giving a toast and calling another woman "Mom." And, oh, sitting beside her? My "dead" husband from ten years ago.

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.