Post Apocalyptic Soldier

On New Year's Eve, Facebook blew up. The reason was that Bennett Miles, the golden boy of Crestmoor’s elite, posted an update. In the photo, a shy young woman hid her face as she leaned against his shoulder while he grinned. His eyes were full of affection and mischief. His caption read, "What do I do? Looks like I'm officially taken." Friends in his circle flooded the comment section with congratulations. The real frenzy began when Bennett announced that the first 10,000 followers to like, share, and comment on the post would each receive a gold bar. The internet went wild with envy and curiosity. Everyone scrambled to find out more about the woman in the picture. Then, someone claiming to have inside information started a livestream. "Stop guessing. Her name is Kara Sierra. You know Sierra Hall at Crestmoor College? That building was named after her! "Two years ago, she had kidney failure. Bennett personally donated one of his own kidneys to save her!"

My younger sister and I were born twins, yet from the very beginning, our parents had zero fondness for me. My sister was the family's good-luck charm, while I was hailed as the harbinger of misfortune. I was blamed for every calamity, while she got all the credit for every blessing. Even after my death, I heard them say, "If we had abandoned her at birth, or even ended her life then, none of this would have happened." I had once tried desperately to win their approval, only to be met with cold indifference. When I finally secured a coveted civil service post, they celebrated me for the first time in my life. I naively believed that I had been acknowledged at last. But then, they said, "Give your job to your sister. She needs it more." At that moment, something inside me completely died. I tried so hard to cling to the hard-won proof that I was not the family's misfortune, yet even that slipped through my grasp. In the end, I lost everything, even the life they had never once cherished.

WARNING] This story is not the typical childhood tale where the princess will be saved by her prince, and they will live happily ever after. This tale is about the princess who made her happily ever after- and to do that, she needed to be wicked like her stepmother. ------ "Run!" Snow doesn't have the choice but to follow prince Arthur. She closed her eyes and ran into the dark and dense forest. "Awoo..." Snow's quick run was stopped when a loud howl echoed through the forest. "What should I do? I can't go back...the queen soldier is all over the place and this is the only place they won't dare to go..." she uttered. Although her whole body was trembling, Snow continued her walk but she made a full stop. "Grr..." Snow's eyes widened as the cold sweat broke out on her forehead. " It looks like I can't escape death tonight..."

Aria Kingsley had been kissed before. But never like this. Not against the cold wall of her father’s mansion. Not by the one man sworn to guard her body, not steal it. Aria has been raised like a jewel in a glass box—perfect, untouchable, and suffocated by her father’s power. When a threat against her life surfaces, Damon Cross, a brooding ex-special forces soldier with scars he doesn’t talk about, is hired as her personal bodyguard. Aria hates his rules. Damon hates her defiance. But the more they clash, the hotter the tension burns. Every stolen glance, every forbidden touch threatens to destroy the walls between them. Yet Damon’s past is as dangerous as Aria’s future. Enemies close in, secrets unravel, and passion becomes a risk neither can afford. In a world where loyalty can be bought and betrayal is inevitable, one question remains— Can Aria survive falling in love with the one man she was never meant to have?

On the same day I was admitted into the hospital for my pregnancy, my husband, Charles Page, received 108 missed calls on his phone. It was from Sue, his mentee, a girl who had cancer. I asked if he was going to pick up, and he replied impatiently, "All she does is call me all day! Doesn't she have any other family? She's so annoying." Later, that very girl posted a photo of herself on the hospital rooftop, wearing a white dress. The caption said: [If I jump down from here, will I become a butterfly in my next life? Maybe then, everyone won't hate me.] Charles only glanced at the post before chuckling mockingly. "What does she mean, turn into a butterfly? Is she delusional?" But after that, he grew visibly restless, before rushing out and not returning all night. That night, I hemorrhaged and was taken into emergency care. When the nurse asked if I wanted to keep the baby, I looked at the empty space beside me and answered calmly. "No, I don't."

I was six months pregnant when my husband, Michael Greene, shoved me off the edge of a yacht during a birthday party. Why? Because Lily Clement, his childhood sweetheart, had fallen into the water, and apparently, the yacht was too small for all three of us. After being pulled from the ocean, suffering from hypothermia and shock, I was taken to the hospital. Doctors determined that emergency surgery was necessary and required a family member's consent. However, no matter how many times they called, Michael never picked up. At the same time, lying in a hospital bed, I scrolled through Lily’s Instagram and saw the post she shared just hours earlier. It was a photo of the two of them, soaked but clinging to each other like lovers out of a movie. "Sometimes love comes from the most unexpected places. Thank you for always being there for me—quietly, selflessly, unshakably." That was all I needed. The day I was discharged, I left Michael a signed divorce agreement. If he wanted to be her knight in shining armor, I’d let him.

In my third month of employment, I realized that my colleagues were calling me an old geezer behind my back. This nickname came from Wanda Stewart’s arrogant and ambitious assistant. I had hit the age of 32, but was still clinging onto the last vestiges of hope of marriage after eight long years of our relationship. I asked Wanda, “Do you know that your subordinates call me an old geezer?” She said without batting an eyelid, “That’s just the way Samuel is. He’s just a straight-talker and he’s just kidding. You’re already 32, are you seriously fussing about this?” She then chuckled, “You two are really alike.” My heart turned cold. Turns out that eight years of my youth were nothing but a joke to her. I turned to leave, resigning from my post and blocking her. Yet, the woman who was always so calm and cool started panicking. “Jansen Graham, please come back to me.”

For five years, I was married to the heir of the Romano family, Italy's biggest crime family. Every night, he'd hold me and whisper, "Just give me an heir, and I'll give him the entire Romano empire." But I never got pregnant, and the Don's disappointment in me grew with every passing month. Until I found out my husband had been secretly swapping my folic acid for birth control pills. I was still reeling from the fury when I saw a post from his ex-girlfriend: an ultrasound photo. Her caption was sweet and smug: “Ten weeks along. Vincent said he can’t wait to meet the baby.” Seeing the flood of congratulations, my mind was made up. I found the contact info for my ex-boyfriend—the one who’d spent the last five years trying to get me back. I sent him a single text. 【Give me one month. Then I’m coming with you.】

Aero Manzinilla died in an airplane crash together with his family when he was twenty years old. It wasn’t that bad, afterall. Dahil kahit sa kahuli-hulihang hininga ay buo pa rin naman sila at magkakasamang nadeadball. Eight years later (in human world) isa na siya sa mga kaluluwang malapit nang maging anghel. He was Michael, the Warrior Archangel’s, most beloved student. Lahat kasi ng mga ipinapagawa nito ay ginagawa niya. He mastered all the trainings of being a true warrior of God. Kaunting-kaunti nalang talaga ay makukuha na niya ang minimithing tungkulin. But one wrong move made him lose that chance. He was stripped off of his right to become a soul soldier, was thrown back to Earth and was under the surveillance of the high Angels. All because of a suicidal depressed girl with a dream to become a fish – the poet and painter, Maeve Carcel. What a beautiful nuisance, indeed!

The Darkness is being manifested by an unknown enemy, and prophecies of a war start coming true. The Protectors of the throne have been preparing for war for over 1300 years, but everyone is still wondering if the prophesized royal will emerge in time to protect the Osvald Kingdom. Rolf, a Regent Prince, has been hiding the fact he is a member of the Protector Family so he can earn his rank in the Lycan Army without the privilege he was born into. His world is turned upside down when he meets his mate and must decide if she is worth the exposure. Thyra has one mission in life, to avenge the slaying of her pack that happened five years ago. She doesn't have time for the pull she feels toward another soldier in the Officer Leadership Academy. Will he understand that her oath has to come before the distraction he brings? Or will she have to submit to him just so she can keep looking into his amber eyes...