The Vanished Novels & Stories

“They searched the whole stretch. Nothing. No sound. No movement. Just… vanished.” A heavy weight settled in my chest. I blinked at him, trying to absorb what he was saying. “Vanished?” I echoed, my voice barely above a whisper. I stepped closer, the panic rising in my throat like bile. “You’re telling me Ashton and Maggie just vanished—vanished—just disappeared? No sign, no fight, no screams?” My voice cracked, the word felt too absurd to even say out loud. “And the storm washed away their scents.” He gave me a small, grim nod. “The rain came fast. Too fast. It wiped everything. Any trail they left… it’s gone.”

After my wife, Talia Rosenthal, becomes pregnant with her mentor's son, Lucas Hawthorne's, child, she asks me for a divorce. "We can get married after the baby's born. It's just for show, so don't read too much into it." To make matters worse, our daughter, Joyce Rosenthal, takes her side. "We need to repay those who help us. Besides, that's my mom's child too. Stop making things difficult for Mom, Dad." Instead of causing a scene like everyone expects, I nod quietly, swiftly finalize the divorce, and marry Sonya Silverstein, the woman who once saved my life. In my previous life, because I adamantly refuse to get a divorce, Talia and Joyce abandon me and leave for a distant land. I beco

Everyone at Hartwell Group knew I loved Julian without a shred of dignity. I was the one who got him through his four most dangerous years. When there was an incident at one of the hotels, I went in his place. When the press had the group surrounded, I stood in front of the cameras for him. When protesters closed in on him, I put myself between them and took more than a dozen stitches in my arm. So when Julian gained full control of the group, our divorce became final, and he immediately announced his engagement to my sister Claire. Everyone looked at me with pity. I could accept that Julian did not love me. I could accept that on the very day our four-year marriage ended, he got engaged to

It was as if some invisible hand had deliberately wiped away every trace of her existence. The grand mansion, once bustling with life, now felt empty. Sean could not find Eve anywhere, nor could he feel her presence at all. Not a single photo of her remained. Even though his phone had been filled with pictures of Eve, they were all gone. Whether someone had deleted them or it was a glitch in the phone, he did not know. Everything had vanished.

If it served my purpose, it was good enough. Hiding from the media, even for someone like me, was a daily war. Money talks—but microphones scream. Reporters clawed for a headline, and even at night, they hunted. You’d think exhaustion would stop them. It didn’t...the man who was once an open book, now closed off, and under suspicion after his wife vanished.

Her memories of Elias were slipping away. It wasn’t like losing something tangible, not like forgetting a face or a name. It was like the edges of a dream dissolving upon waking, something that had once been vivid and real now fading into the background. The details of their love—the way his voice had softened when he spoke her name, the warmth of his touch, the quiet intensity in his gaze—were unraveling, piece by piece, until they were nothing more than whispers.

The next morning came. Nathaniel was munching on his breakfast half-heartedly, his mind a million miles away. I hadn't gone back to his place that night. He tried to call me, text me, but nothing could get through. A sense of dread coiled around his heart. He had a feeling something was starting to fade from his life. Nathaniel decided to call my best friends. That was because I would always crash at their place whenever we had a fight. He mistook my disappearance as another similar but longer episode. "Is Ginny with any of you?"

“Mmph–” Vanessa’s voice was instantly cut off. The rancid stench of the rag shot straight up her nose, making her vision go dark as her stomach churned. However, the nightmare was far from over. After gagging her, the two matrons exchanged a look. Then, their fists and boots rained down upon Vanessa like a relentless storm. From that day forward, the person “Vanessa York” vanished from high society. In her place, in that old, isolated manor on the island, there was only a crazy, blind, and crippled woman whose sole purpose was to scrub the manor’s chamber pots and filthy toilets.

"Wanda, I'll find you. I swear I will. I'll get down on my knees and beg for your forgiveness if that's what it takes." Hundreds of messages, one after another, packed into the screen like a digital breakdown. Edgar had completely lost it. I uninstalled WhatsApp without a second thought. Out of sight, out of mind. I had truly believed Edgar would never find me again. But one day, as I returned home from teaching, the last person I ever wanted to see was standing at my door.

“Do it now! Check every communication log, every bank account, everything!” But a terrible premonition was already taking root in his heart. Molly was too smart. If she had decided to disappear, she wouldn’t have left a single trail to follow. He returned to the empty art studio. Her cherished paintings were gone too. Clarence collapsed onto the floor in the center of the room, finally grasping the gravity of the situation. This wasn’t an impulsive act of anger. This was a meticulously planned, complete and total vanishing. Molly had erased every trace of herself, as if she had never lived here at all. She had ripped herself out of this home, out of his life, as completely as she had ripped