Soul Eater Video Novels & Stories

After five years together, my fiancé, Michael Lynham, finally landed a promotion. I went all out. I hand-arranged his favorite champagne roses and spent my last $8,000 on a Rolex. Then his text popped up. [Eunice, work sent me on a last-minute business trip. No need to celebrate.] My heart squeezed. He was working this hard for us. I hit the video call. Declined. [I'm in a meeting. Try to understand.] Then a Porsche rolled up outside my shop. A woman rushed in, fixing her lipstick. "Do you have any ready-made bouquets for a guy? Something cute. I'm celebrating with my boyfriend." She started a video call. Michael picked up instantly. "Michael! I'm almost downstairs. Is our candlelight dinner ready?" "Babe, I skipped a work meeting to cook all your favorites." Their laughter poured through the screen. My stomach dropped. My ears rang. Everything went blurry. I stared at the guy who was supposedly "in a meeting." He wasn't on a business trip. He was spending the night with his new girlfriend. "Hello? Do you have one or not? I'm in a hurry." I swallowed the lump in my throat, turned away, slipped off my engagement ring, and dropped it in the trash. Then I pointed to the bouquet I'd arranged in the corner. "Yeah. That one's ready. 200 bucks."

On the night before our engagement party, my fiancé's childhood sweetheart sped through the venue grounds in a luxury car while heartbroken, hit an elderly man, and fled the scene. Ethan immediately postponed the party and took the panicked Mia overseas to help her relax. Before leaving, he transferred five hundred thousand dollars to me. "Five hundred thousand should be enough to buy your father's life. As long as you don't cause trouble for Mia, we'll continue with the celebration after I return." Confused, I looked at my father beside me. The renowned don of the McKenna family was sitting there perfectly unharmed, frowning in dissatisfaction over Ethan's decision to cancel the party without permission. Just then, I received a message from Mia with a video attached. [Ethan found out the person I hit was your father and still chose to protect me and pay for your father's life.] [A nouveau riche's daughter thinks she can marry into the Alvarez family? Take a good look at your father's condition. This is what happens when people like you dare to dream.] I opened the video and widened my eyes in shock. With a malicious smile, Mia slammed on the accelerator, drove over the old man's legs, and sped away. The poor elderly man lying in a pool of blood and groaning in pain was Ethan's father.

In the Pediatric Intensive Care Unit, a sudden power outage occurred. As the doctor on night duty, I remained calm and didn't panic, nor did I call for help. I calmly waited as the temperatures of the incubators where the babies lay slowly dropped... In my previous life, when the pediatric department lost power, I immediately switched to the backup power sources to ensure the children's safety. After doing everything I was supposed to do, I sat down to take a breather and took a sip of water. Suddenly, my coworkers rushed in, waking me up. "Dr. Luther, you're a healthcare staff, how could you kill those children?!" "You froze them to death! How vicious! You'll pay for this!" Only then did I realize that all the children had died, without exception. The police took me away. They said I was the only one in the room and they found my fingerprints on the thermostat. My son then produced a video to assist in the investigation. "She often complained about the patients being a bother and hoped they would all die." Enraged family members cornered me in an alley and tortured me for ten hours until I died. But until my last breath, I couldn't understand how the children could have frozen to death in a thermostatically-controlled environment. And why did my own son provide a fake video to frame me? Suddenly, I jolted awake. I found myself waking up on the day of the power outage.

On her wedding day, Isla faced a series of disasters no bride could ever imagine. Her fiancé, Jeremy, dropped a bombshell in front of the entire congregation, revealing an explicit video of her and another man—a video she had no knowledge of or clue how it came to be. To make matters worse, Jeremy took things further by proposing to her sister right then and there. Devastated beyond belief, Isla ran out of the chapel—and his life—without looking back. She swore never to let herself be humiliated like that again and decided that love was no longer worth the risk. With her heart in pieces, she headed to the nearest bar to drown her sorrows in alcohol, where, in a haze of pain and anger, she met a handsome stranger. What was meant to be a fleeting escape turned into a one-night stand. She disappeared without a trace, determined to sever all ties with Jeremy. That included quitting her job at his father’s company—she didn’t want anything to do with him or his family anymore. As she searched for a new beginning, fate led her into the path of Jaxon Waverly. Jaxon Waverly—a billionaire CEO by day and a fearless Mafia leader by night. Isla becomes his secretary, unknown to her and Jaxon himself that she is Jaxon’s long-lost love and unforgettable one-night-stand. Determined to win her over, Jaxon will stop at nothing to make her his wife.

After a flawless shutout in his first NHL game, rookie goalie Brooks Rhys sends one explicit submission video to his anonymous Dom “Sir” only for Chicago Thunder captain Callan Lachlan to storm into his hotel room holding the proof. “Be my personal stress relief all season,” Callan growls, “or I’ll end your career tonight.” What begins as raw, filthy blackmail filled with locker-room commands, gear still on, and total surrender quickly becomes an obsession neither man can control.

An invitation coated in dust, an oath in exchange of a soul and a bond too tight to break. But it is all an accident, a huge mistake Ria got herself into, tangling herself in ropes of the only demon king known to travel with chaos following behind him like a shadow, the devil himself. What happens when Ria accidentally sells her soul to the devil over something so desperate and cynical. And how does their bond come to be, bringing along dark desires and suppressed emotions? Why is the devil taking interest on this particular soul enough to stain with his dust? How will Ria set herself free?

At my engagement banquet, a student sponsored by my fiancé sneaked drugs into a wine glass. To save my meticulously planned event, I quietly had a servant replace the glass. But then, the student and a notorious playboy had a scandalous encounter. A video leaked. Her reputation was ruined, and she jumped to her death. Then my refined fiancé forced me to kneel at her grave and tortured me to death with drugs. Only then did I learn she was his lifelong love. When I opened my eyes again, I was back at the engagement banquet.

In my past life, I casually bought a lottery ticket at the corner store and won 80 million dollars. Three days later, my pregnant housekeeper, Lily Hall, jumped off a bridge and killed herself. Before she died, she left behind a suicide note and a video recording. She claimed I had verbally abused and beaten her for months, and that I had falsely accused her of trying to seduce my husband, Jayden Sanders. In the video, my voice rang out crystal clear as I hurled insults at her. "You little tramp, why are you using a mop? Get down on your hands and knees and scrub it inch by inch. If it's not spotless, don't even think about eating tonight." I called Jayden to vouch for me. However, he insisted I had always been arrogant and cruel, constantly screaming at people or hitting them. He even lifted his shirt to show off the purple bruises covering his body. I could not defend myself and ended up being the villain everyone wanted to see locked up. Eventually, the entire 80 million dollars went to Lily's younger sister, Emma Hall, as compensation. I spent the rest of my life rotting in prison, never understanding why sweet, gentle Lily would frame me and then take her own life. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day I won the lottery.

I’d just left a creative meeting when a TikTok video popped up on my feed, slamming my company. The title: "Stay Away! This Austin startup is incredibly cheap. The perks are a joke." The video showed off the pour-over coffee from Austin's hottest independent cafe and pastries from a top-tier French bakery. The same ones I’d just had my assistant, Sam, hand out. I frowned. In the company's Slack channel, I tagged everyone. "@here Any suggestions for this afternoon's Happy Hour?" Leo, the new Gen-Z intern, replied instantly with a voice note. “Asher, with all due respect, these snacks with gluten and dairy are so unhealthy.” “A truly visionary company would hire a private chef to customize raw, vegan bites for everyone's dietary needs. That's what respect looks like.” I laughed. It was an angry laugh. The company's daily snack budget was $25 per person. For an Austin startup, that was top of the line. I typed back: "Since it's impossible to please everyone, the snack perk is canceled. I'll convert the budget into a cash bonus for all of you." Less than five minutes later, the TikTok caption was updated. "UPDATE: Y'all, I can't make this up. I made a suggestion about dietary inclusivity, and my toxic boss just canceled all the perks! This is how toxic bosses act. Can't handle a single piece of feedback!"

My mother was critically ill, and I drove five hundred miles back to my hometown alone. At a rest stop, I saw a video online. A young man had posted: "First day driving long-distance as a nervous beginner. My ex followed me for three hundred miles, all the way until I got home safely." In the video, a familiar black Mercedes followed a white car the entire way. The top comment came from a burner account: "I'm the driver's ex. No other meaning. I just couldn't stop worrying. "He's timid, but always tries to act brave. I was afraid something would happen to him. "Please don't overthink it. Don't bother him. I'll feel bad." The internet exploded. "What kind of once-in-a-lifetime devoted ex is this? Get back together already!" I stared at that Mercedes. The plate number was GB-8860V. It was my fiancee Vanessa Tomlinson's car. That morning, she had canceled the plan to drive home with me. She said her company had an emergency project and she could not get away. I had sent her dozens of messages, and she had not replied to a single one. Yet she had time to escort the man she never truly let go of for three hundred miles. My phone buzzed. Vanessa had finally texted me: "Is the interstate jammed? Drive safe."