Twists On Fairy Tales Novels & Stories

Ladies, never hike up a mountain on your own! During a holiday, I've received a request for help from an Internet user. Apparently, a young woman has gone missing after she's gone on a mountain hike. A quick session of divination tells me that the woman is already dead. To make things worse, her corpse is stuck at the moment. Having taken on the request made by the woman's parents, I enter the mountain and start looking for her. In the end, I'm able to locate her body in a cave. Not only is her belly swollen with pregnancy, but… but her belly is also moving due to fetal activity. What's scarier is that there's something even more terrifying being hidden beneath her corpse…

Disaster struck during my sophomore year.  Not only did my family fall into poverty, I ended up getting diagnosed with cancer as well. I was so broke that I only had a hundred dollars left to my name. Desperate for cash, I tried to pawn off the family amulet I had been wearing since I was a child. Unexpectedly, the storekeeper of the pawn shop took a glance before refusing it with a curt shake of his head. “This amulet is cursed. Whoever wears it is doomed to lead a short life. I can’t possibly take it.”

My wife was gone for 6 months on a business trip. The day she returned, however, she was not alone. Hand in hand, my wife showed up with her lover—my client. This was not even the worst part—she was also 3 months' pregnant. My client, in all his beer-bellied arrogance, hurled the contract at my feet, smirking. "Mr. Carter, your wife has gone to so much trouble for this partnership. Truth be told, I would never, not even in a million years, have agreed to partner with you if it wasn't for her!" My wife caressed her pregnant belly and said smugly, "I was the one who successfully got Mr. Lewis' business! I'll let you have it, though, as long as you agree to get a divorce!" I tore the contract into shreds and roared, "You want a divorce? Fine! I'll give it to you, but I'll never sign this!"

Inside the mediation room at the police station, my passenger looked disheveled with messy hair and rumpled clothes. She cried as she complained to the police officer, “Sir, it’s him! The Grab driver had bad intentions! He even tried to harass me! “People like him should be put in jail! And I want compensation for the emotional distress he caused me!” Right after she finished speaking, she slumped down on the floor and threw a tantrum. I could not believe someone could be this shameless. All I did was tell her not to smoke in the car, and she falsely accused me of harassing her. On top of it, I was a woman too! It was just that I usually dressed less femininely. How could I possibly have harassed her?

"Mommy, you have to be the first person to come pick me up, okay?" These are my daughter Dorothy Grant's final words to me when she walked me out of the house this morning. But when I stand at the kindergarten's entrance with a box of Dorothy's favorite strawberry shortcake in my hands, the security guard just stares at me as though I lost my mind. "Ma'am, this place might be where Sunflower Kindergarten is located, but it has already closed its doors for three years. This place is now a retirement home." I rush into the "kindergarten" instantly. The spot where the slide used to be is now replaced by a row of flowerbeds. The room that used to be the classroom now hosts a bunch of elderly people, who bask in the sunlight. With trembling hands, I call my husband, Chester Grant, on the phone. He sounds very exasperated and exhausted over the phone. "Honey, we've been married for five years, and we choose to be childless. You've never given birth before."

At a friends' gathering, we're all playing Truth or Dare. Since Austin Ramos has lost the round, he chooses the "Truth" option. "Elsa and I have a child together." I whip around to stare at him in disbelief, my body already frozen from the news. Everyone knows that Elsa is my dearest sister, whereas Austin is my newly-married husband. His tone is casual and calm. It's also coated in a slight hint of nonchalance. "I had too much to drink three years ago. Elsa looked super sexy in her skimpy clothes, and I couldn't hold myself back. I didn't think she'd get pregnant right away." He dips his head while chuckling softly. Soon, his words take on a different meaning. "Elsa is definitely sexier than a certain someone here, and she's definitely interesting in bed. On top of that, she's capable of making me a father, unlike a certain infertile woman here." I can only look at Elsa, whose cheeks are heavily flushed. She lowers her head and dares not look at me the whole time. Yesterday, Elsa had wished me happiness with red-rimmed eyes. She told me that she'd plan the grandest wedding for me. Austin puts down his glass before adding lightly, "There. I've said my piece." Almost immediately, everyone falls silent and turns to look at me.

TRIGGER WARNING: The book contains highly explicit and detailed depictions of sexual abuse, including childhood abuse, grooming, and assault. It also addresses severe trauma, self-harm, suicide, physical violence, substance abuse, and emotional and physical pain. Reader discretion is strongly advise. -------------- Tales who have a strong obligation to live no matter what, was taken as a sex slave because of his mother's debt to an organization, and he was being subdued by what he despise the most, gangsters, but because of his poor physique he was tossed aside and will likely be killed. That's when he tried to murder the boss, if he'll gonna be dead, might as well take the boss to hell with him. His naive thinking and strong sense of living captures the interest of the delinquent Ra Ja. 'You completely turned me on. ' Is what he said after being stabbed by Tales on his left hand. Ra Ja then makes him as his personal bodyguard. Can't figure out what the man is thinking, Tales can't help but be wary as he devise a new plan to escape the lion's den while carrying the head of the leader. Will his plan be successful or will it go astray and takes him to unfamiliar bloody dark path? A lot of secrets will be uncovered. What he thinks he is now might not actually be him. But seems like he's not the only one scheming the next move. Raja kept making actions that will drive him mad, crush his will and push him to the corner with no escape. A thug of war with rotten love, prideful altercation and bloody relationships.

On the week before Valentine's Day, I want to buy my husband, Grayson Strickland, who works as a university professor, an electronic toothbrush as a gift. That's when I see a review with over ten thousand likes on a particular online store. "I recommend buying from this store! This store's electronic toothbrush is super durable! I've never had to charge this toothbrush for half a year!" Three days later, an additional response is made to that comment. "I'm sorry for misleading everyone. It turns out that my husband has been charging this toothbrush this whole time. It's my fault for being such a doofus! I even pestered him for a long time before I finally found out that he has done a lot for me! "I never have to add toilet rolls to the bathroom. All I thought is that the same toilet roll is extremely thick. The membership that I have on the TV app is often paid for and extended, and yet I thought there was a bug in the app software somehow. Some time ago, the peeling dry skin on my lips miraculously healed. It turns out he was the one who kept applying lip balm onto my lip at night. "He's a university professor, you see. In the past, I often blamed him for not knowing what being romantic was like. But now, I finally realize that those who love you will have a way of showing you how it's done." The rest of the comment section is filled with wailing complaints. They all complain that Valentine's Day isn't even here, and yet they are already sick of the lovey-dovey atmosphere. Amid the Internet users' constant requests, the poster finally uploads the handsome side profile of her husband. Feeling rather envious, I tap on the photo, only for my smile to freeze on my face. That photo actually features Grayson! As I stare at my mother-in-law, who has been paralyzed in bed for the past six years, I recall the fact that Grayson lives on the university campus all around the year. That's when uneasiness begins plaguing me. As expected, when I bring my marriage certificate to the County Clerk’s office and ask about it, the clerk points at the stamp and says, "Your marriage certificate is fake. Mr. Grayson Strickland's spouse is another woman named Callista Whitman." My fingers go slack subconsciously, causing the fake marriage certificate to fall to the floor. A chuckle of despair escapes my lips. Everyone knows that Callista is Grayson's student. She's his most prized student as well as the person who knows him the best. As for me… I'm just a free caretaker whom he has "hired".

It's my daughter, Noelle Peace's first day at the kindergarten. But the teacher kicks us out instantly. "Mr. Peace's son has been studying here for a year. Since when does he have another daughter?" This leaves me feeling confused. Noelle has only reached the minimum age to start her education. How is it possible for that child to study here for a year? After investigating the truth, I find out that the new assistant, Myra Larson, had enrolled her own child into the same kindergarten as Mrs. Pearce a year ago. I seek her out, only for her to flash her marriage certificate with my husband, George Pearce. "I know you. You've been pestering my husband all these years, haven't you?" The official stamp of the courthouse is shown on the marriage certificate, clear as day. The date is five years ago. But the thing is, George and I have been married for three years.

As the news broadcast reported a random serial killing near my residential complex, I knew—I had been reborn once again. In my first life, my husband insisted on going out in the middle of a snowstorm to buy weapons for self-defense. I locked every door and window, waiting at home, anxiety clawing at my chest. I never imagined the killer could pick locks. Before I could even react, a blade plunged into me, and I died on the couch. In my second life, I didn't hesitate. I hid in a concealed storage room, holding my breath. But the door was still pulled open. A man wearing a rabbit mask stared straight at me. "Found you," he said. In my third life, I ran to the police station. I rushed inside and told the officer on duty that the killings weren't random—that the murderer was coming for me. They looked at me like I'd lost my mind. Then my husband arrived in a hurry and took me away. But the moment we reached our front door, a heavy hammer smashed into the back of my head. Through the blinding pain, I forced my eyes open, but I never saw who killed me. Now, staring at the grave expression on the news anchor's face, agony surged through every inch of my body. Rebirth isn't a reset. The damage accumulates—and sooner or later, it will torture me to death. Without hesitation, I walked into the kitchen and set a pot of oil to heat. And I waited… for the moment the lock began to turn.