Ridley Road Novels & Stories

My father died of esophageal cancer. For the final two years of his life, he could barely swallow anything. By the time he passed, he was nothing but skin and bones. The first New Year after his death, he came to my mother in a dream. "I'm starving," he said. "I just want to taste the thick-cut steak you used to make." My mother believed it without question. That very day, she pan-seared a large platter of steak and carried it to his grave. The next morning, she suffered a sudden heart attack and died on the spot. Devastated, I handled my mother's funeral together with my husband. That same night, my husband dreamed of my father as well. "Chester," he said, "I haven't eaten in so long. I want your pâté, served with some strong liquor." When my husband woke up, he bought the finest liver pâté, opened a bottle of single-malt whiskey, and went straight to the grave. However, not long after returning home, he collapsed from acute liver failure. He was rushed to the ICU and died three days later. I was on the brink of collapse myself. I left my daughter in the care of a close friend while I tried to handle the endless wave of tragedy. That evening, my daughter never came home from school. I searched everywhere, and finally, on the road to the cemetery, I found her. She was clutching a bowl of spicy stew, several grilled sausages floating in the broth. "Mom," she said, "Grandpa and I used to eat this all the time. I dreamed he said he was hungry." I finally lost it. I knocked the bowl from her hands and carried her home. That night, my father appeared in my dream once more. "I suffered so much while alive," he said. "Have some pity on me. "New Year's is coming. I want to come home for a meal. Make sure you cook fish." I woke in terror. Holding my daughter, I sat before the three framed portraits for two full days without eating or drinking. On New Year's morning, I realized she was no longer breathing. Clutched tightly in her hand was a packet of spicy dried salmon. I could not believe it. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day my mother, her eyes red with worry, said she was going out to buy steak.

After my family joined hands to send me to prison for three years, I start learning how to behave myself. I do whatever everyone else tells me to do. The day I'm released from prison, my wife, Regina Johnson, sits in the car and says coldly, "If you ever lay those hands of yours on Ty again, I'll…" Before she can say anything else, I jump out of the car, pick up a brick from the side of the road, and smash my hand into a pulp with it. Regina stares at the bone sticking out and goes pale. When we get back home, Tyler Lowe, my adopted younger brother, ambushes me in the bathroom and scoffs. "So what if you're the biological son of the Lowe family? I can just as easily have you kicked out of the family!" Then, he uses a blade to make a small cut on one of his fingers before crying out in alarm, "If you really hate me, Cal, I'll leave right away! Please don't kill me!" Regina and my older sister, Calista Lowe, enter just in time to witness his display. Shaking with anger, they stomp on my wound with their high heels. "You haven't changed one bit! If anything happens to Ty, I'll make you pay for it with your life!" I nod obediently and march straight to the kitchen, where I jump into the massive meat grinder before turning it on. The blood and bits of flesh spray all over Mom and Dad, who end up walking in right then. Mom lets out a shrill shriek before fainting, while Dad forces himself to remain composed as he turns off the power. At this point, even Regina, my sharp-tongued wife, can't find the words to say anything. She stands frozen, her body trembling. When we're inside the ambulance, Tyler clings to Regina, quivering as he says, "This has nothing to do with me! He jumped into the machine himself. You have to believe me!" It's almost impossible for me to stay conscious through the unbearable pain, but I muster the strength to nod along with him. After failing to win over my family, I'd spent three years in prison. Later on, the system told me that if I showed absolute obedience until the day I died, I would receive massive financial compensation and be transported back to my original world.

On the day my love fades away for good, I've finally learned something about my mate, Ethan Langley. He's not hopeless when it comes to directions—he just can't remember which path it is that leads to me. Ethan is the Alpha of the pack, whereas I'm his mate. We've been mates for ten years. But whenever I need him, he always gets lost. On the day of our marking ceremony, Ethan got lost in the pack territory. Because of that, the ceremony was delayed for another three days. Every year on the marking anniversary, Ethan would always get lost. The food in the evening banquet I always prepared would always go stone cold. When I was eight months pregnant with my pup, I sent an SOS message to him through the mind-link after I suffered from a bad fall. While Ethan screamed at me that he'd be there through the mind-link, he was physically lost in the pack territory for five hours. By the time our packmates came to my rescue, my pup was already dead. As I lay on the stone bed in the healing center, my packmates came over to comfort me. "Ethan can't navigate at all to save his life. He didn't do this on purpose. Don't get mad at him, okay? You two will still have pups in the future." I could only nod in a daze. But on the day we were supposed to attend our pup's funeral, I realized that Ethan was familiar with the road when he was behind the wheel in the SUV. He even took a detour just to drop by the residence of Lyria Jeffries, a female Beta. "Elena, there's still some time before the funeral starts. I'm going to send Lyria home first so that she can visit her family." Before I could object, the car had already stopped right outside Lyria's residence. Lyria got into the front passenger seat as though it was the most natural thing to do in the world. She wore a bright smile as she said, "Look at how well I've groomed you, Ethan! If you ever forget the way to my place, I'll make sure to skin you alive!" Only then did Lyria notice me, who sat in the backseat. She pretended to be bashful as she stuck out her tongue. "I was just kidding, Elena." I endured Lyria's "harmless" quips with a stony expression. But right after Ethan dropped Lyria off, he forgot the way to the funeral immediately. Because of that, the funeral was delayed by half an hour. As I held my pup's tiny urn, I felt my heart sinking into the pits of my stomach. It turns out that there exists someone who can be exempted from Ethan's hopeless sense of direction. It's just that… my pup and I are never the exception.