Rush Marlene Novels & Stories

My girlfriend Chloe Bennett's childhood buddy, Daniel Miller, binds himself to a transfer system. Everything he eats gets sent straight into my stomach. He creates a live stream channel and eats nonstop for 12 hours a day to rake in money. Meanwhile, I end up in the ER with acute pancreatitis. I try to explain everything to Chloe, but she just looks at me like I've lost my mind. "How could something that ridiculous exist? If food could magically transfer, nobody would starve in the world. You're just jealous he's making money from streaming." Afterward, Daniel's every live stream triggers another pancreatitis episode, sending me back to the ER until I'm barely holding on. I get tested, but the doctors can't figure out what's wrong. They even want to admit me to psych. Later, in a desperate bid to outdo another streamer, Daniel downs ten pounds of mashed potatoes at once. The overload destroys my spleen and stomach, causing massive internal bleeding that kills me. When I open my eyes again, I'm back on the day of Daniel's very first live stream. This time, I rush out and order 20 takeout dishes before him. "This time, I'm eating first."

In order to prioritize saving a girl who needs to undergo a kidney transplant, I've gone to the bank to deal with the transaction. Judith Smith, the lady working at the counter keeps making my life difficult, though. "How can you prove that your funds are legal? Also, how can you prove that you are an employee of this charity organization?" "These are the documents that I've prepared according to the regulations that can prove the funds' sources. Here's my work ID and my driver's license. My photos are shown here." Judith merely glances at the identification documents before raising an eyebrow. "You don't look anything like the photos at all!" Since I'm in a hurry, I rush back to the organization and quickly get all the paperwork regarding my identity settled. I initially thought that I could finally transfer the check to the hospital. But that's when Judith speaks up lightly. "I refuse to go through this procedure." Furious, I decide to lodge a complaint about Judith. But she has the audacity to post about me on the Internet. There, she paints me as a rude customer who not only deliberately makes things difficult for her, but I apparently also refuse to comply with the standard procedures. Later on, the sick girl's prioritization gets canceled due to how crazy the public backlash has become. Just when I'm no longer in a hurry to transfer the payment to the hospital, Judith is the one panicking about the situation instead.

My girlfriend, Sienna Caldwell, suddenly uploads a social media post, claiming that her family has gone bankrupt. That's why she intends to take her own life at the place where she and I first met. Without hesitation, I ditch everything on my schedule and rush off to look for Sienna. But that's when the mountain gets sealed off by a blizzard, resulting in me almost freezing to death there. After getting rescued, I see Sienna's first love, Declan Reeves, flaunting the fact that he has secured the internship position that's originally mine in a top-tier hospital. As for Sienna, whom I've been looking for everywhere, she's in the middle of celebrating Declan's success in a bar that she has spent a huge amount of money reserving for the night. I call my mentor, only to find out that I've missed the deadline for submitting my internship application. Now, no other hospital in this city will accept me as an intern. After that, I head over to the bar to look for Sienna and Declan. Everyone is worried that I might throttle them for what they've done to me. But this time, even when I've witnessed Sienna gifting our new apartment to Declan, I don't bother doing anything at all. Instead, I just pick up a wine glass with a smile. "He can move into the apartment tomorrow. I'll leave."

When His Majesty King Dominic Thornfield was attacked, my husband, Roland Wentworth, Commander of the Royal Guard, was busy placating his first love, Vivian Sinclair, who had stormed off in a fit of anger. I did not light the signal flare in my hand. Instead, I used my heavily pregnant body as a human shield to protect the King and help him escape. In my past life, I had lit that flare. Roland abandoned Vivian to rush back and save the King. He was rewarded for his loyal service by being made a Duke Protector. However, Vivian fell into a trap and died on the spot. On the surface, Roland said nothing. Yet, on the very day I went into labor, he threw me into the Beast Dungeon. My face twisted in agony as I demanded to know why. Roland merely glanced at me coldly and said, "His Majesty had plenty of guards around him, so why did it have to be me who came back? You must have done it on purpose, only caring about power and wealth. If you hadn't lit that flare, Vivian wouldn't have died. Whatever suffering Vivian endured, I'll make you pay it back tenfold!" In the end, I was torn apart and devoured by the beasts. Even the child in my womb was consumed completely. When I opened my eyes again, I had returned to the day the King was attacked.

I still have a week before my due date when a truck suddenly hits me, sending me flying several feet and leaving me bleeding profusely on the ground. As I lose consciousness, I call my husband, Wallace Brown, begging him to rush over and save our unborn child, only for him to reply coldly, "It's Beth's 18th birthday party today, Meryl. You can't seriously be pulling one of your stunts on a day like this, can you?" In the next instant, I hear my son, Daniel Brown, exclaiming, "You're always using the baby to threaten us, Mommy! I really hate it when you do that!" Wallace stresses the importance of Beth's birthday party again, demands that I attend immediately, and then hangs up on me. With a pool of blood spreading beneath me, I close my eyes, overcome by despair. When I open my eyes again, I am met by the sight of a death certificate. The doctor delivers a crushing pronouncement. "I'm sorry, but if you had gotten here sooner, we might have been able to save the baby's life…" I look at the death certificate, feeling as though my heart died with my baby. I finally decide to leave this family, yet now they're the ones begging me to stay.

When I reach the underground parking lot, I find out that my husband, Victor Blake, has parked his car in a slanted manner. Great, his car has taken over my parking slot again. I call him and tell him to get his ass downstairs so that he can move the car out of my parking slot. While waiting for him, I come across a post on the Internet. "I'm screwing the brains out of my mistress right now. What should I do to avoid getting discovered by my wife, who might be home anytime soon?" The comment section goes nuts. Apparently, the original poster has left a like on one of the comments. "Park your car in a way that it eats into your wife's parking slot. That way, she'll have to call you every time she gets home. Not only do you have time to clean up the scene and protect your mistress, but you also get to tell your wife in a righteous manner that you're reserving a parking slot for her." I frown immediately. As soon as I tap on the WhatsApp chat, I hear someone knocking on my window. Victor can be seen jiggling his car keys outside the car. "What's with the rush? I did this just so I can reserve a parking slot for you, you know."

I am Seranda Williams the uwanted, born from a lineage of slaves, embedded with the mark of Zeranda cursed god of the souls of the dead. A plague waiting to be eradicated. a plague waiting to be destroyed, a celebration at my death, festivity at the sight of my blood. I stare from the open bars of my home, a crumbling place known to others as a dungeon, but I have called this place home for the last 18 years, today is that day, the long-awaited day of my death. I feel nothing, I have been groomed as a sacrificial lamb. am neither the first nor will I be the last, it will soon be time. Nothing is there to be felt, I was neither provided information on why I must die, nothing could break me. No, they can't…can they? Neglected separated front all. Groomed as a sacrificial lamb, what was there to hope for? I am not the first nor will I be the last, it will soon be time. I have lived off scraps of food for the longest time, not like I saw meaning to why I was fed. I was going to be killed either way. I got myself ready, but there wasn't much to be done, I washed my hair with the little water left from the previous day, I have been isolated from humans since my birth. I did not get the chance to be a child like every other kid out there. I was barely given enough to last me for 18 years. The door abruptly opens and hefty men rush in with chains and shackles. “Tie the slave”

After I am diagnosed with stomach cancer, I ask for some money to buy medicine. I don't want to be in excruciating pain when I die. My three elder brothers rush into the ICU. Andy Lewis—my eldest brother—slaps me hard across my face. He scolds me for ruining his beloved younger sister, Summer Lewis' coming-of-age party. My second brother, Sherman Lewis, calls me a liar. He accuses me of pretending to be sick to swindle money from them. Jimmy Lewis, who is my third brother, calls me useless. He tells me that I deserve to die. My parents, Kenneth Lewis and Autumn Farrow, don't believe that I'm sick. They pin me with looks of contempt and ridicule. "You still haven't stopped that lying habit of yours even though you're all grown up. You even learned how to blackmail us with your death. "If you want to die, do it sooner. It'll spare us from being disgusted when we're forced to look at you day in and day out." I end up dying on the first day of the New Year. Before I breathe my last breath, I send a message to the family group chat. My entire family goes crazy after reading it.

My husband, David Wright, brought me and my three-month-old son, Leo Wright, to his parents' for the holidays. But while Leo was asleep, my niece, Lana Wright, and her classmates carried him upstairs and threw him down. My baby died right in front of me. I lost my mind. I scooped him up and tried to rush him to the hospital, but it was already too late. He was gone before we ever made it there. Because Lana was still a minor, she barely faced any consequences. The court ordered her family to pay eight hundred thousand dollars in compensation, but my sister-in-law, Ariel Whittaker, wailed and screamed, accusing me of trying to drive them to their deaths. I cried until I felt like my heart had been torn apart. All I wanted was justice. But David and my mother-in-law, Nancy Wright, only scolded me. “Lana is just a child too! Are you really going to destroy her life just because your son died?” I never got my revenge. In the end, grief and hatred hollowed me out. That winter, I died of a heart attack. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day of the holiday gathering. This time, I immediately called my parents and asked them to take my son away. But even then, my niece still threw a baby from upstairs.

The Garcia family's notorious illegitimate son — violent, obsessive, and dangerously unstable — had sent out a public marriage summons. One of us, my sister or I, was to become his bride. My father, with his career in ruins and his influence dwindling, had no choice but to agree. In desperation, I begged my boyfriend Eric Jordan to return home and make our engagement official. He did rush back, travel-worn and anxious — but only to ask for my sister's hand in marriage. Shattered, I demanded to know why. Eric frowned, his voice icy. "You're just a foster daughter of the Lynch family. You've eaten their food, lived under their roof for years. And if it weren't for Willa, you would've frozen to death on the street. Now's your chance to repay her. Don't be ungrateful." I refused to stay silent. He shoved me aside in frustration. "I told you — Willa and I are only pretending. Once she's out of danger and that lunatic forgets about the proposal, we'll divorce. I'll come back for you. However, stop embarrassing yourself like this — it's pathetic." What Eric did not know was… Willa Lynch escaped the marriage. However, I did not. Later, on the day of the wedding, as the bridal car passed the Jordan family estate, I looked out the window — and locked eyes with Eric. His face turned pale as a sheet.