Post Apocalypse Truck

To save Hugh, I took the hit—literally. The kidnappers beat me so bad I ended up with a brain hemorrhage. My mind? Stuck at thirteen. Hugh, all guilt and promises, said, "Wenna, I'll protect you forever." And he did. He watched over me. When the house caught fire, he threw himself over me, took the burns, didn't flinch. Then came his oh-so-perfect foster sister. "Mia's not into... slow people. Maybe you should live next door," he said. And my son? The one I nearly died bringing into the world? "Stupid woman! You embarrass me and Dad. You're nothing like Aunt Mia—she's smart and pretty. If it weren't for you, she could've been my mom. You should just die!" To play hero for Mia, my son shoved me into the street. A truck did the rest. When I opened my eyes, I was back on the day Hugh proposed. This time? I wasn't here for his pity. And I sure as hell wasn't marrying him.

In her past life, when a truck barreled toward them, Lillian Hogan instinctively pushed Elton Ruiz out of harm's way. She paid the price with both her legs crushed. When she woke up in the hospital, the aloof, noble man lowered his head for the first time. Standing by her bedside, he promised to marry her. Tearfully, she accepted the proposal from the man she'd loved since she was eight. But after the wedding, Elton often stayed out all night. His attitude toward her grew cold and harsh. When an infection from her injuries left her on the brink of death, the billionaire didn't spare a single penny for her care. "I never thanked you for saving my life," he said. "Our marriage was a mistake from the start. Let me go." His face grim, he pulled out her oxygen tube. Lillian's eyes widened in shock. In the agony of betrayal and heartbreak, she took her last breath. If she could do it all over again, she vowed never to love Elton again.

My wife, Valerie Larson, had a congenital heart condition. Despite that, she still wanted to have a child with her first love, Eugene Dyer. I refused without a second thought. Ten months later, Eugene's mother, Susan Turner, passed away. Her eyes were still wide open as if refusing to accept death without ever holding her grandchild. Overcome with guilt for failing his mother, Eugene took his own life in his small, rundown apartment. Valerie, consumed by grief and anger, took us on a road trip, only to crash the car head-on into a truck without hesitation. She shouted, "It's your fault Eugene died! If you had let me give him a child, he never would have ended up like that! His whole family is gone, so yours doesn't deserve to live either!" When I opened my eyes again, I found myself back on the day Valerie first asked to have Eugene's child. This time, I forced a small smile and said, "Darling, go ahead. Our whole family will support you."

Five years after migrating abroad, my husband, Shawn Johnson, brings his true love and her son home. "Jill and Neil are new here. They'll be staying with us for a few days." He and I get into a huge fight over this. On my birthday, Shawn hands me a divorce agreement. He says, "Hurry up and sign it. Jill needs this country's citizenship, so let's divorce for show first." I frown, wanting to ask for more details. However, he points at me and calls me heartless. Shortly after, I see Jill's social media update. "Shawnie divorced his wife for me and Neil! We finally have a roof over our heads." I like the post and sign the divorce agreement. Then, I submit an application to my company to be transferred home.

It all began with a single post about canceling a food delivery order. Overnight, I became the internet's punching bag. Thousands of vicious messages flooded my inbox, filled with photoshopped memorials urging me to die. They doxxed my family, plastered my personal details across shady websites, and used AI to create obscene images of me, spreading them in vile chat groups. They spread lies about my income, claiming it came from illicit sources, and accused me of carrying diseases. I didn't call the police or block the messages. Instead, I read every hateful word before singling out the 100 worst offenders. Every day, I sent each one a luxurious meal: Boston lobster, Australian wagyu, the works. Each delivery came with a simple note: [Thank you for your hard work.]

Today is the sixth time my girlfriend, Shirley Lake, is supposed to meet my parents. My parents and I wait at the restaurant for four whole hours. I call her over and over again, but she never picks up. Just as I'm about to try one last time, I see Shirley's childhood sweetheart, Joshua Solomon, post a picture on his Instagram, with the location tagged at a suburban hotel. The picture shows a woman's pale back, one shoulder bare, with a striking red spider lily tattoo visible on her skin. Underneath the picture was the caption, "We'll make it from 18 to 80." A mutual friend comments, "First-love couples are the sweetest!" I silently hit the like button, then comment, "Make sure to get buried together when you die. And don't come back to haunt anyone else."

In the third year of our marriage, my wife’s ex-boyfriend of eight years suddenly posted a picture on social media showing off a multi-million-dollar wedding house. His caption read: “Wow, got myself a huge villa, I’m the master of charming women!” I stared in shock at the picture, which showed my wife swiping her card at a sales office, and left a single comment: "?" A second later, my wife called to scold me. “I was just fulfilling a promise I made to him back when we were dating, buying him a house. Why are you getting mad at him?” “What? Are you really going to be so vicious as to force me to break my word?” That evening, her ex showed off another lavish post, this time flaunting a renovation bill worth hundreds of thousands. I knew it was a gift from my wife to please him. But by then, I no longer cared.

A student on a school camping trip gets possessed by an unknown creature; giving him special abilities and forcing him to its bidding, thus bringing a devastating threat to the camp and its surroundings. Has an elusive evil truly returned? Can the possessed student find a way to regain full control? And what are the origin and motives of the creature? Dive into a world of ignorance, mysteries, and thrills as the Unknown Origins series unfolds. Black River (Apocalypse Uprising) [Major sub-story synopsis] Dolly and her best friend Chesa go on a trip to visit the enchanted river, unaware of the strange happenings in the community living close to it. What will happen if their quest for paradise leads to desperate attempts to survive? and will they ever return home from the nightmare? [sub-stories in this book can be read at anytime the reader wishes, but it is advised to follow the plot sequentially. See note for more information. This book is rated 16+ because of its dark theme.]

Yasha Reese Heuson, a Starlight Supermodel and a promising actress of her generation, is very passionate about everything she does. Enjoying the limelight of her career, sudden news strikes that instantly change her life - that is being linked to one of the youngest bachelors in town, Axis Ford Averion, whom at such a young age has already climbed the corporate ladder all the way to the top, making him one of the successful CEOs in the country. Their paths will cross because of the post tagged into Yasha's social media account, saying that she's engaged to Axis; which they soon realize that both of their social media accounts were hacked. Not wanting to ruin their public figures, they decide to pretend as a couple, hoping that after a month or two, the news will pass while they investigate the real motives of the hacker. Will their pretense relationship lead them to genuine affection? The question remains unanswered if the hacker has a dark agenda in sneaking into their accounts. In getting ahead of their uneventful lives, how will Yasha and Axis handle their playful fate?

After four years of marriage, James Lawson, who had never posted anything on social media, unexpectedly updated his status: "What an adorable little foodie!" The attached photo showed a young woman wearing pink cat ears, eating at a Korean BBQ restaurant. Her cheeks were flushed red from the spicy food as she stuck out her tongue. It was Sophie Jones, a new content creator at his company. Within a minute, our mutual friend commented: "Dude, you forgot to switch accounts!" Just like that, James's new post disappeared as quickly as it had appeared, only to show up moments later on Sophie's feed. Then James's name lit up my phone screen. In the past, I would have already taken screenshots and called him first to confront him. It would have inevitably ended in a heated argument. But this time, I calmly watched his call go to voicemail without answering.