Short Stories With A Twist Ending Novels & Stories

Who knows what we'll run into? The End

11:54 11:55 11:56 11:59 12:00 Once the clock stroked 12, a shiver ran down my spine ,my body was aching for a release and he wasn’t in sight yet. I heaved a sigh,as the clock stroked 12:20 a few minutes later. The library had a few people in it but nevertheless I decided to go round placing books back where they were meant to be. I took off my jacket and started going round, placing books back, I got to the back row of the library , it didn’t have a enough light, so people hardly sat there to read, there was a book on one of the tables. It was a Novel by Ana huang famous author for the twisted series, it was Twisted hate and the open page was one the steamy hate sex scenes between Jules and

Inside was a single page, Brad's handwriting, dated three weeks before his death. "Mother, if you're reading this, I'm dead and my plans for William and Lucy failed. But I have one final contingency. A professional I hired months ago to take what matters most to them. Their child. Six months after birth, the extraction happens. By the time they realize what's happened, the baby will be in another country, adopted by strangers, lost forever. They'll spend the rest of their lives wondering, searching, suffering. Just like I suffered. This is my gift to you. My final revenge. Brad."

Luckily, my words didn’t sound too slurred. He smiled and turned to the bartender… who amazingly enough came right over. Everyone who had been waiting for a drink looked over, jealous. The girls kept looking at the guy holding my hand. There was something about him that made him impossible not to look at. If I hadn’t grown up around werewolves I would probably be staring at him too. Werewolves have this amazing ability to attract all the attention around them when they wanted it, and the older, more experienced ones could blend in like they were invisible if they needed to too.

"I can't stop it! If the ink takes the laptop, the story ends. For everyone. There won't be a reboot. There will just be nothing." "Give me the laptop," I said, stepping into the rising ink. "Maya, no!" Kael grabbed my arm. "The ink is reclamation! It’ll strip you down to the first sentence!" "I’m already a ghost, Kael," I said, looking at him. My heart felt like it was breaking, but for the first time, it was a clean break. No code, no loops. Just love. "The woman in the sweater couldn't finish the story because she was afraid of the end. But I’ve died eighteen times. I’m an expert at endings."

"Now, go get the rest of your punishment as ordered by your master. Or do you want me to tell him you disobeyed?" I shook my head immediately, standing straight. "No ma'am, I'll be good." "If any of those ice cubes fall out of your cunt, you're not going to cum tonight either." I clenched my ass, sucking in a sharp breath as I approached the glass door. The ice cubes rubbed against all the right spots inside me, causing my gait to become uneven as I struggled against my ruined orgasm and the torment that came after. Outside, some people seemed to have taken notice of me. Pointing and laughing.

You guys have been the absolute best audience a writer could ask for. If you've been around since the beginning, you know this "short story" had a little identity crisis. It started as a quick idea, a little spark, and then it just... kept growing. Like a very polite, very well-dressed monster that just wouldn't stop eating my brain cells. And now, here we are, at the final page. This book is done! And I’m going to be honest with you about the ending, particularly that final chapter. I know some of you might be thinking, "Curvy, what gives? Where was the last-minute spice? The grand finale hookup?"

"Well your manual about killing people, is called a mystery novel. Where we use logic, power of deduction, and intelligence to reach the truth. Unlike some story about how a silly and close-minded high school girl got her first love experience..." "as always you still have the same sharp cold tongue." "and you still have your impertinent and annoyingly show-off playboy attitude..." They talked as they headed toward the elevator, she was about to push the number on the floor when their hands touched the same button. Taking her hand back, she took a sip of her coffee and turned her eyes in the opposite direction. "Great! We're going to the same floor..." she muttered to herself as she tried to

Author's note: At first, you'll see the story as one of the typical stories with kidnaps and chuchu, but don't judge. Try reading it and you'll see the twist, it's worth reading. You'll see a violent act of love:) I wasn't forcing you though. Lorraine Samantha Red Woodwords' POV

I have to stand for a few seconds as sweat breaks out in tingles under my arms. "Room service," a man says from the other side of the door. Shaking, I let him. He pushes a cart inside, sets it up, and pauses. "Anything else?" he asks. Expecting a tip. But unfortunately for him, I have no money. "No, thanks, that's everything." He frowns but leaves. I shut the door behind him, lock the deadbolt, then practically run to the bottle of champagne. I don't bother pouring it into a glass. I break out the cork then pour it down my throat, my hands trembling at the thought of Gregory Callahan looking into the fake story Scar spun them.