The Villain Simulator Novels & Stories

​ Vaelor. The prince fought alone against a ten-foot simulation monster, a hulking, multi-limbed thing of jagged crystal and shadow, claws long as swords. It was terrifyingly real: every swipe left scorch marks on the ground, every roar vibrated through Lirian’s bones. The simulation delivered real force. The guide explained quietly that a solid hit would bruise, break bones, or even kill if you weren’t careful. ​ Vaelor didn’t look careful. ​

She was a CEO named Zora Vane, and she had just clicked a button labeled: [PROJECT GENESIS: BETA TEST TERMINATED. Lagos wasn't a city on earth, and the Spires weren't the future. We were a virtual simulation created by a multinational corporation in the real world to test the psychological limits of AI automation. And the woman who had been torturing me for twenty years wasn't my mother—she was my developer. "Test #3 failed to comply," the London-Zora said into her microphone, her voice cold and professional. "Purge the server. Prepare the baseline for Test #4."

Bury her beneath rumors and warnings, make her a myth mothers told their daughters. My phone buzzed. Another report. “Failed again. Target protected by unknown male. Suspect: Simeon Moretti ”. I leaned back the smile spreading on my face. Simeon. That was unexpected. He was testing my patience. He was supposed to be a ghost, a myth of his own, the Bloody Vultures bloodline was as brutal as it was loyal.. But maybe Sarian had gotten under his skin too, maybe he loved her. Or maybe he was just as stupid as Julio. Either way I’d deal with him soon enough

Other than the occasional annoyed sigh from Jace, he remains silent as well, allowing me to explain. "It's a sort of simulator, so to speak, that uses advanced Artificial Intelligence and Augmented Reality to create lifelike scenarios." I explain. "What do you mean?" Jakob asks. I take a chance to look over at Jace, who is staring at me in turn. The death glare he's sending me is unfathomable. But at this moment, I don't care. I meant it when I said there wasn't anything I wouldn't do to keep my family safe. So if that includes divulging secret government information, then so be it.

“This isn’t just playback. It’s adaptive AI. They fed it everything you’ve ever said, every movement in your home, every whisper you gave Dorian, and trained it to predict your next act.” The simulation-Isolde smiled to the crowd. And the crowd roared with invisible, pre-recorded lust. The screen cut to black. Then: Simulacrum Confidence Index: 98.8% Authorization: Ready for Public Deployment Isolde’s breath caught. “They weren’t just trying to replace me,” she whispered. “They were trying to release me.” Dorian’s voice was cold. “Into a world that couldn’t tell the difference.” The burner phone buzzed once.

To make me ripe. His mother’s disdain. Whitlock’s threats. All staged. All designed to push me, to shape me, to force the Thorn to bloom. The “rescue” from Whitlock. The “alliance” with Eleanor. The “war.” A complex, immersive simulation to test my combat readiness, my strategic processing. The “pregnancy.” The ultimate emotional driver. A perfect, cruel fiction to ensure I would do anything, believe anything, to protect the life that never was.

“Don’t worry about it. He’s just an old friend I was catching up with.” Her tone sounded sincere, yet it didn’t completely clear my doubts, so I narrowed my eyes at her slightly. If she noticed my slight change she didn’t acknowledge it, because she walked forward. “Samiya, I have enough reason to believe that the next challenge will be a simulation of some sorts, all the warriors-” “All the warriors in the pack were trained with simulations and they were gifts from when witches and werewolves were still allies. They are game-like, with some special kind of game master, and happen in some layer of our consciousness.

" He then propped one leg on the sofa, hands on either side of Liora, enclosing her within his arms. Like a beast capturing its prey, he stared at the captive beneath him, a mocking glint in his eyes. Liora glared back at him. After all these years, she couldn't believe she misjudged him. He wasn't just a playboy; he was a downright villain! Smack! Liora extended her hand and gave him a resounding slap. Simmons, surprised by her strength, was momentarily dazed. He touched his stinging face and chuckled. Then, his eyes turned icy. Reaching out, he grabbed Liora's delicate neck. With a cruel smile, he said, "Really, pretending to be a gentleman in front of you for so long, did you really think

It was clear everyone had been fixated on Marcel, but at his declaration, all focus was on Celia. All her life, she was the girl with the weakest presence in a room. The one no one noticed, and when they did, she was viewed with pity or disgust. Now she was the mate of a werewolf who killed their Alpha. A werewolf who dominated other packs. A villain, undoubtedly. Hadn’t things just become worse for her? “Move,” Marcel instructed Sheeva, but she didn’t obey. “Move,” he said again, his eyes glowing this time. Sheeva trembled, doing her best to fight against the intimidation that came with Marcel’s unbelievable power.

For a fraction of a second, Victor Hale didn’t move. He didn’t breathe. He didn’t offer the sharp, condescending correction that usually dripped from his lips like venom. That silence was a glitch. A beautiful, terrifying malfunction. Every simulation Hale had run in that labyrinthine mind of his ended in one of two ways: Ava King walks away, cold and hollowed out, or Ava King shatters into a thousand jagged pieces. But this? Standing in the gray space between those two deaths, refusing to fit into the frame he had spent years designing?