The Cosmic Imagination Novels & Stories

The day cancer spread through my whole body, my family took me to court for being heartless and cruel. All because I refused to donate my kidney to the fake daughter, even though I was a perfect match. When they saw me lying in the coffin, my sister, who never liked me, said, “What a drama queen! Even got yourself a coffin this time.” Even my parents despised me and said, “If you want to die, at least cut out your kidney first and go die somewhere else. Don’t die in front of us and make us sick.” But later, when the memory extractor cut into my brain, it revealed all the times I had been tortured by that fake daughter over the years. The family that despised me went insane at that moment.

It's been five years since I started trying to win over Zachary Pierce. I even went so far as to have a child through IVF, hoping it would finally make him care. But no matter what I do, I can never reach 100 percent affection from him. It always stays at 99 percent. Sometimes it even drops lower. One day, exhausted and aching, I go looking for him. As I reach his room, I hear laughter coming from inside. "She still hasn't figured out the egg wasn't even hers. The moment the baby was born, Zach's affection score for her dropped to zero." "So what if she finds out? She should be grateful that her face looks so much like Yvonne's. Honestly, I'm done entertaining her. It's exhausting." At that moment, everything clicks. All the hope I've held onto, every sacrifice I've made, they were all just a joke. I turn away and say to the system, "End this for me. Send me to another world."

In the third year after my death, the one who remained faithfully by my wife's side was still the bionic robot I had painstakingly designed. It looked exactly like me and carried within it every detail of my mannerisms, speech, and habits. The only difference was that it never lost its temper with her. Because of that, my wife never sensed anything amiss. Yet each night, she brought home a different man, deliberately testing "me," desperate to see the wild jealousy and rage I once wore so vividly. Then, one day, her childhood sweetheart and first love, shoved "me" off the balcony. It was only then, in her horror, that my wife realized… "I" didn't bleed.

In my previous life, the apocalyptic haunts descended without warning, and the whole world plunged into a living hell. After two days of starvation, my husband and mother-in-law tied me to a chair. I begged them desperately, but they did not spare me. Instead, to keep their "food" fresh, they sliced the flesh straight from my leg. When I was reborn, I spent every last cent of my fortune to hold a grand, extravagant funeral, for myself. My husband and mother-in-law thought I had lost my mind. However, what they had not known was this: anyone who buried themselves could claim the treasures laid to rest in their own coffin: golden coins that could command the anomalies of the end times. Which meant that with this extravagant funeral, I would stand invincible when the apocalypse arrived. That time, without me as their "meat" and scapegoat… I would see how long they lasted.

The very first thing I do after I come back to life is find a pig and get married to it. In my past life, I was on the brink of getting engaged to my lover of ten years, Anthony Warner, who was a regimental colonel. In order to celebrate my engagement, Hannah Larson, my cousin, gave me a bracelet, and since it was a thoughtful gift from her, I wore it all the time. Yet, on our engagement day, Anthony didn't just call off our engagement, but he also berated me, calling me a tramp and a homewrecker who destroyed his relationship with Hannah. I was completely at a loss and tried to defend myself, but Hannah suddenly stepped forward and burst out crying. "I know my family and educational background surpass yours, but you can't just ruin my relationship with Anthony out of jealousy, Natalie! Anthony and I have already made a lifelong commitment to each other, so please just let it go!" Anthony turned and led Hannah away. They then got engaged shortly afterward. I was left standing there, becoming the subject of gossip from my relatives. They called me a shameless home-wrecker, and their scorn extended to my parents, who were shamed for raising such a child. They eventually took their own lives from all the rumors, and I couldn't bear the pain of losing them, so I ended myself, too. I suddenly open my eyes and find myself returning to the day Hannah presents me with the bracelet.

I suspected my husband was a detached ascetic. Every night, he'd skip to the backyard, muttering prayers under the stars instead of sharing our bed. When I slipped into something slinky, he'd frown and clutch his prayer beads like a lifeline. Now I was done with the cold shoulder, slapping a divorce agreement in his hands. That was when his thoughts started leaking into my head. "She touched me. Her hands are like silk. I'm dying to kiss her. When is she gonna be okay with me being a snake? I just want to cuddle her." "A snake?" I thought. "Does that mean he's packing two things? I have to find out." I leered at his chiseled frame, practically drooling. Before divorcing, I needed to test his things and my limits. I tripped purposefully and fell onto his toned pecs, ready to test the waters. "Whoops!" I gasped, setting the stage.

My adopted daughter, Phoebe Marsh, possessed an evil ability. Whenever she got hurt, the pain would also be inflicted directly on my biological daughter, Maisie Shaw. She deliberately hurt herself, covering her body with wounds and bruises. Then, she would turn around with cold eyes, watching Maisie writhe on the floor in agony until she passed out from the pain. With no medical solution available, I broke down and held Maisie close, begging my husband, Brandon Shaw, to send Phoebe away. However, he would erupt in fury. "It's obviously Maisie who's been faking illness for attention, and you're making up this ridiculous story to get rid of Phoebe. She's just a fragile, helpless child. How can you be so vicious?" After that, Phoebe escalated her self-harm even more viciously. Meanwhile, Maisie spent every day curled up in the corner of her bed, refusing to let anyone touch her. On Maisie's birthday, Phoebe threw herself from the fifth floor. Just as Maisie was blowing out her candles and making a wish, she suddenly began bleeding from all her facial orifices, and she died instantly. Yet, Phoebe only suffered minor scrapes. I died from overwhelming grief shortly after. When I opened my eyes again, I had returned to Phoebe's first day in our home. Maisie was playing with her Legos when she suddenly clutched her ankle and started crying. This time, I grabbed the broom from behind the door and swung it toward Maisie, shouting, "I'll beat you up for faking illness and seeking attention!"

When I woke up that morning and happened to glance at the mirror, a scream tore from my throat before I could stop it. Because on the face I had always taken such pride in, there was now a jagged, horrifying scar. As terror gripped me, a cool, detached female voice cut through the air beside me. "What are you shrieking about so early in the morning? Scared by your own ugly face?" I looked up in shock and realized the voice belonged to my girlfriend, Alicia. Only—she wasn't the same girl from yesterday. Gone was the youthful innocence I remembered. In its place, every movement, every glance radiated the allure of a mature woman. The words slipped out before I could hold them back. "Babe… you're gorgeous…" But Alicia's brows knit together, her gaze colder than ice. "Kurt, drop the act!" Act? I was at a loss. Why would she accuse me of pretending? "Don't call me the way you used to five years ago. It's disgusting." Five years ago? But… I'm still twenty-three… am I not?

Everyone in the mercenary group knew just how deeply Liam Smith loved me and feared losing me. He even suppressed his dark desires to make sure I felt truly safe. No matter how dangerous the mission, he made sure to check in every single day. Worried for his safety, I hid my identity and secretly became his team’s hacker. However, after one mission, I overheard the others joking over the radio: "Chief was in such a rush to pick that lock and go after Wendy. What's so irresistible about her?" Through an unattended monitor, I caught Liam glancing at the camera with a teasing smile. "Didn't I tell you guys that she nearly wrung me dry the last time we did it?" It felt like I had fallen into an ice-cold abyss. My heart shattered, and I summoned the system. [I want to leave this world.] The cold, mechanical voice replied without delay: [Once you leave, all traces of the host in this world will be erased.] [Starting the countdown: Seven days left.]

My roommate, Sylvia Colman, is the ultimate overachiever at Southend High School. She sleeps only three hours a day and takes first place in every exam throughout all three years of high school. As for me, I'm known as the "sleepy slacker" in our school. I sleep in class, constantly fail exams, and can even fall asleep while walking. My parents are completely disappointed in me. They say I'm a hopeless mess. My childhood friend, Jeffrey Rivers, also turns his back on me. He claims I've fallen too far and becomes Sylvia's die-hard fan instead. But when the dean of studies summons me for a talk to tell me that I face the possibility of being expelled, I accidentally discover the secret behind Sylvia's inexhaustible energy. It turns out she has been transferring all of her exhaustion and drowsiness onto me. She's the one stealing my energy, my grades, and my life! On the night before the SAT, Sylvia confidently stays up all night doing practice papers for one final push before the real deal. I smile slightly as a plan forms in my mind. Inwardly, I sneer, "You despicable thief who stole my life… I have a wonderful surprise in store for you. Stay tuned and accept my gift to you!"