Tables Turn Novels & Stories

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"I'll make sure not to abuse your kindness." "Oh, please do abuse me, Maddy," he shifted in a way that he is now lying on his back and he spread his arms, "abuse me in every way you think of," he finished with a big smile on his face and his eyebrows wiggling, telling me he has a different kind of abuse in mind.

After a while, Wanda clutched her stomach as intense pain coursed through her. She spat out a mouthful of blood. She belatedly realized what had happened and swept the glass of milk off the table, making it shatter on the floor. Then, she slapped Lila. "What did you put in the milk? When did you learn the truth?" Lila's expression darkened when she heard her words. She snarled, "I put whatever you put in my soup but at a hundred times the dosage."

One rainy afternoon, Amelia misplaced her journal at the library. It had been a long day — essays due, caffeine crashing, umbrella snapped in the wind. She searched everywhere, frantic. But before panic could bloom fully, someone cleared their throat behind her. Micah. He held the journal out like it was sacred. “I saw it under the table. Thought it might be yours.” She took it. “Thanks… Micah, right?” The moment she said his name, something beamed in his eyes. Not surprise. Not joy. Something deeper. Like hunger.

"Since we are all old acquaintances, may I ask you to order a few more bottles of wine?" "To think that the owner of a company could fall from grace like this... Let's see, as long as you drink all the alcohol on the table, I'll open as many bottles as you want." Mr. Paine grinned maliciously. Jessica looked at the four bottles of vodka and four bottles of red wine on the table, and she felt a little scared. "Sir, let me do it!" "My alcohol tolerance is good, let me!" The other waiters and waitresses rushed over, competing for the chance.

They tumbled down to the second floor and splashed into the garden pond. "You!" Sheila shot me an angry look, then quickly looked sad and pulled on Elliot's shirt. "Elliot! My presents!" I just sneered, "They're just presents. You can get more." Elliot kept staring at me, like he noticed something odd. When I turned to leave, he grabbed my wrist. Right then, the butler came in to say dinner was ready. Joseph would also be home at any minute. I laughed without a care, shook off Elliot's hand, and walked to the dining room without looking back.

“Fine. I’ll add him too! He’s your boyfriend of five years. I’m giving you a chance to win him back. Do you want it or not?” I rejected that immediately. “No need. The gold is enough. I don’t want the guy.” Who ate something and spat it back out just to swallow it again? Disgusting. We started rolling again. This time, Taylor couldn’t get her usual numbers. She rolled a five, a six, a two, and three threes—only twenty-two points total. As for me, I had also slipped up. Two sixes, two ones, a five, and a three—also twenty-two.

Shania and I decided on Samuel Turner, a marketing manager at Shania's company. Samuel was younger than Lucille and about six years younger than me. I had gotten to know him through a random dinner event in the past. I had formed a deep impression of him because of his good looks and how smart he was at handling all sorts of situations. Later on, I got to know from Shania that he was also very competent at work. He had managed to get his position as marketing manager within a year of joining the company.

... Lauren appeared, raising an eyebrow. "Uncle Tom? Trying to cozy up to my dad?" She studied my face and yelped, "Or are you planning to seduce him with that pretty face?" I stared at her, noting her striking resemblance to Tom, and said calmly, "When your heart's corrupt, everything looks dirty." A sharp slap landed heavily on my face. I turned my head instinctively, my cheek burning. Lauren shook her hand and raised her chin. "Who do you think you are, talking to me like that? A nobody manager! I could crush you with one finger. If you want to keep your job, apologize to me now."

The others watched closely. In response to his spell, the black surface of the table began to change. Hundreds of dim, tiny white ovals began to appear, seemingly floating within the depths of the glass. As the Necromancer continued his summoning, the shapes grew brighter and clearer. They were not merely ovals of light—they were pairs of eyes, trapped within the table!