Post Apocalyptic World Novels & Stories

Three months before my wedding, my fiancé, Henry Siebert, decided it was the perfect time to drop a maternity photo shoot on social media—with my foster sister, Betty Foster. The caption? Oh, just this gem: [Legally welcoming our little one into the world.] Betty added a shy emoji. And my mom? She liked the post and wrote: [Once the baby is born, I'll help take care of it so you two can enjoy your time together as a couple.] I couldn't help myself. I replied with a single question mark. And then Henry's DMs came in hot: [She's just borrowing me for a year to get married. Once the baby's born, I'll come back to you.]

Lily Peterson's childhood sweetheart, Sean Clements, ran over my 70-year-old mother in his car while he was drunk-driving. Because of that, Mom died on the spot. But Lily insisted on signing the letter of forgiveness for Sean. "My mother-in-law had planned on scamming Sean for more money, so she lay beneath the wheels on purpose. She should be the one taking on the entire responsibility." Not only did Sean get released as an innocent man, but he also received the ten-million-dollar payment given by the insurance company as compensation for his emotional distress. "Honey, I grew up with Sean since we were kids. I can't just sit by and watch his life get ruined by imprisonment! Can't you be more gracious and stop bringing this issue up?" After leaving the police station, Sean uploads a post on his social media feed in a high-profile manner. "Lily looks so gorgeous when she defends me in front of others! Childhood sweethearts will always be the closest people in life!" Lily leaves a like on Sean's post right in front of me. I remain eerily calm. "Let's get a divorce, Lily." She huffs coldly in return. "You just want me to console you, right? Tristin Foley, you're already 30 years old. Can you stop being childish?" I've already brought up divorce multiple times in the past. That's why Lily refuses to believe that I will leave her for real. But what she doesn't know is that I've snuck in a divorce agreement into the documents meant for the case closure registration, and she has personally left her signature there.

I had been married to Derek for six years, and we had a three-year-old son. He was poor, earning only $2,000 a month, but I had no complaints; I took care of everything at home for him. After getting dinner on the table for the whole family, I finally had a minute to check my phone. A video popped up on my feed: a twenty-two-year-old girl from a rural area whose hands, roughened by years of hard labor, looked like they belonged to a sixty-two-year-old woman. I looked down at my own hands, just as worn and scarred, and stared at them blankly before tapping into the comments. I expected people to feel bad for her. However, to my surprise, the comments section was flooded with a single sentiment: "Why would anyone marry a penniless loser?" One of the top-liked comments came from a couple; in their photo, they were pictured holding hands—fingers tightly intertwined—with the girl sporting a massive diamond ring. The accompanying caption read: "A man who truly loves you would never bear to let you suffer." I felt a pang of envy. Given the choice, who wouldn't want a glamorous life? As I was about to close the app, I accidentally tapped on the couple's photo, enlarging it. In the background, previously too blurry to make out, was a face I recognized. It looked exactly like my husband, Derek Sterling. I froze, and almost against my will, I tapped into the account's profile. Post after post of lavish photos of them together flooded my screen. And then I saw him clearly. The scar above his brow, the one he got when a shelf fell on him while protecting me, was still plainly visible. It was my husband. It was Derek.

My studio's website receives an appraisal order worth 450 thousand dollars all of a sudden. The original poster of the order claims that this is a pre-wedding gift her fiance has gotten her. The comment section goes wild instantly. "If the appraisal fee alone is already 450 thousand dollars, does this mean the painting is worth 100 million dollars? Your husband really is generous to you!" "I'm so envious of you! You really are lucky to be able to marry such a rich man!" The poster quickly replies, "Luck has nothing to do with this. I fought for this fate with everything I had. I'll be frank with you; back then, my fiance still had a girlfriend. But everything I want in life will eventually be mine. "So, I slandered his girlfriend and pretended to be aggrieved just so my fiance's heart would go out to me. As time went on, his love for his girlfriend faded away. "In the end, all I have to do is lift a finger, and the girlfriend got her limbs crushed. After that, she got discarded like garbage." The Internet users post their replies of disbelief. There's no way someone will hurt their ex-girlfriend to this degree, after all. They all think that the original poster is being excessively dramatic. Someone even berates her for throwing a wrench into a relationship. Not only does she not feel ashamed, but she also finds it an extremely proud thing to have done. Even my assistant, Chiara Belmonte, tells me that this client seems like a nutjob and suggests that I decline this order. I don't say anything. Instead, I just tap "confirm". After all, what the poster said is the truth. The ex-girlfriend that she has described in her post is me.

The day before the wedding, I go to the bridal shop to pick up my custom wedding dress. The clerk informs me apologetically, "I'm sorry, Ms. Stone. Yesterday, a woman called Ms. Lovelett came and picked up your dress." My best friend, Sherry Lancelot, suddenly remembers something. "Isn't that the surname of your fiance's secretary? He's so thoughtful. He had your dress picked up in advance for you." But in the next second, Mary Lovelett posts a social media update. In her photo, she is wearing my one-of-a-kind custom wedding dress that is worth hundreds of millions and posing coquettishly in front of the camera. The caption reads, "Zachary is the best boss in the world. I casually said I wanted to take some portraits. He generously bought me a globally limited outfit for a photoshoot so that I can take the photos to my heart's desire!" I look at the post and reply coldly, "That's the wedding dress I personally chose for myself. Since when did it become your photoshoot outfit?" The post is deleted instantly. My fiance, Zachary Everdon, calls me angrily. "What nonsense comment was that? I just lent your stupid dress to Mary for a bit. It's a cheap, one-time thing anyway. I can buy you a dozen more to make up for it." I let out a cold laugh and record the call. Then, I send him a screenshot of the 200 million dollars purchase record. I say, "Sure. Will you pay by check or by direct transfer? Hurry up. Once you pay, we're calling off the engagement."

Primrose is a princess who comes from the clans of vampires, for which they are recognized as having the strongest powers. The strictest and most forbidden of their law is to love a human being. But, by an unexpected coincidence, Primrose falls for a human creature named Youhe- Notorious rogue, mischievous and . But, what if he finds out that the woman he loves is a vampire? Will he still love her despite of her true identity? or will they just follow the set destiny for the two of them?

Everything that she could remember was that she had dropped dead and fell face first at the grand staircase that she was descending. Cause of death? unknown She thought she will be going straight to the reincarnation pool at the heavens, but who would have thought that she had already used up her 10 lifetimes, and each life ended with her suddenly dying at the same age of 25. And each time, she would have no idea how she died. Aggrieved, wronged, and unwilling! Who wouldn't be? After thousands of years doing missions, leveling up, fighting monsters and kinds of stuff, she finally became a Goddess, excited as to finally, she could take a rest. "Go to these worlds, do tasks, save planets, conquer tribes, build things and etc. Do something, earn respect from the undead, and gather believers among the living."

Year 3150 where flying cars exists, time machines are prohibited, where existence are being questioned, and secrets are more important than truth. Time is a secret and none of you is the answer. Buried should not be unveiled or else the secrets will be told and you're the one who will be kept. Who are you when even your identity is a mystery? Does time really has a buried secrets or time is the secret itself?

On my way to the bank, I stumbled across a post: [What's the most shameful thing you've done behind your partner's back?] One comment stood out: [I secretly married my first love, and my girlfriend keeps dumping money into our joint account like an idiot. She actually thinks I'm saving for a house. There's already sixty-seven grand in there. Once she hits eighty, I'm taking it all!] The flood of likes made my stomach twist. I pulled up my account balance. Sixty-seven grand. Not a penny more, not a penny less. So, my boyfriend secretly married his ex.

Five years ago, on the day when Isla realized she was pregnant with her boyfriend Alpha Adrian's child and excited to tell him, her life shattered in one night -- her Beta parents turned out to be Lycan spies and ruined Adrian's entire pack. Isla had no choice but to fled for her life after Adrian killed her parents before her eyes and believed IsIa was also part of the Lycan schemes. Five years later, hidden in a quiet human town with her young son Noah, Isla has built a new life far from the werewolf world. However, one viral post about her bakery exposed her location to Adrian. Captured and dragged back to Adrian's pack, Isla had to face her sin, love, desire and hatred this time....