Novel & Cerita What Was The Gimp In Pulp Fiction

What happens when your life is just a lie? What happens when you finally find out that none of what you believe to be real is real? What if you met someone who made you question everything? And what happens when your life is nothing but a fiction carved by Mr. Fiction himself? "The truth is rarely pure and never simple." — Oscar Wilde. Disclaimer: this story touches on depression, losing someone, and facing reality instead of taking the easy way out. ( ( ( part of TBNB Series, this is the story of Clarabelle Summers's writers ))

"Are you still afraid of me Medusa?" His deep voice send shivers down my spine like always. He's too close for me to ignore. Why is he doing this? He's not supposed to act this way. What the hell? Better to be straight forward Med! I gulped down the lump formed in my throat and spoke with my stern voice trying to be confident. "Yes, I'm scared of you, more than you can even imagine." All my confidence faded away within an instant as his soft chuckle replaced the silence. Jerking me forward into his arms he leaned forward to whisper into my ear. "I will kiss you, hug you and bang you so hard that you will only remember my name to sa-, moan. You will see me around a lot baby, get ready your therapy session to get rid off your fear starts now." He whispered in his deep husky voice and winked before leaving me alone dumbfounded. Is this how your death flirts with you to Fuck your life!? There's only one thing running through my mind. Lifting my head up in a swift motion and glaring at the sky, I yelled with all my strength. "FUC* YOU AUTHOR!" ~~~~~~~~~ What if you wished for transmigating into a Novel just for fun, and it turns out to be true. You transimigated but as a Villaness who died in the end. A death which is lonely, despicable and pathetic. Join the journey of Kiara who Mistakenly transmigates into a Novel. Will she succeed in surviving or will she die as per her fate in the book. This story is a pure fiction and is based on my own imagination.

I was diagnosed with kidney disease. My wife, Serene Warner, an heiress from high society, broke down in tears from worry. She did everything she could to find a donor for me. However, just as the doctor handed her the consent form, she hesitated. "Keith's treatment can't be delayed any longer. This donor kidney is compatible with him too. Can you find another matching kidney?" she asked. With a troubled look on his face, the doctor replied, "Ms. Warner, that would be rather hard. Perhaps…" Before he could finish, her daughter spoke up and decided my fate. "Of course, the kidney is going to Keith. Dad is old and a nag. He doesn't even look like me. I don't want it to go to him." Serene gently smacked Tina on the back of her head, but what she said next was just as chilling. "Joseph, Keith studied abroad. He'll contribute a lot to the Warners and this society…" Without saying a word, I looked down at my wedding ring. My heart had grown numb long ago. That was because I had already gone through this. In my last life, this was when I shouted at her, despite having always been a gentle soul. "What about all the sacrifices I made to take care of you two in the past eight years? I'm clearly ahead of him in the list. It should be mine! Why him?" But without question, a poor teacher like me stood no chance against the rich and powerful. In the end, out of guilt, Serene stayed by my side day and night. She reminisced with me about the past, but not even she realized that the memories she spoke of did not belong to us. I slowly faded away. This time, I would not fight her. I would not trouble her anymore. "Alright."

I was raised to be invisible. In the kingdom of Avelaine, a maid’s life is meant to pass quietly—unnoticed and unchanged. I knew my place in the halls of Hawthorne Palace, until Prince Roman Davenport looked at me as though I was something more than a shadow. He belonged to the crown. I belonged to silence. What grew between us was never spoken aloud. It lived in careful glances, restrained words, and moments stolen where no one was meant to see. Loving him was dangerous—not because of scandal, but because it asked for something I was never meant to have. In a world ruled by duty and inheritance, some desires are not forbidden by law… but by reality itself.

I've been married to the prince of the underworld for ten years and have endured countless life-or-death situations by his side. My hands, once trained to play the piano, are covered in calluses from holding guns and stained with blood. But at 28, my husband ends up falling for a young woman from the slums. She's as delicate and pure as a chamomile. She's his well-kept little secret—until I run into them at the woman's prenatal appointment one day. I storm up to him, demanding an explanation, only for him to nonchalantly hand me divorce papers. "Sonia is a devout follower of the church and can't have a child before marriage. I must make an honest woman out of her. Sign these, and you'll get 40% of the company's shares." I refuse to do as told, so he corners me. In the end, he has my crippled younger brother tied up and forced under a hydraulic compression machine. "Sign the papers, Maeve, or watch your brother become a human mince pie. The choice is yours." I fall on my knees and beg him to stop. As the machine turns on, my hands fly to my aching lower belly, and I scream as I lose consciousness. When I wake up again, I'm back in the hospital, in the same spot where I ran into my husband and his mistress at her prenatal appointment. This time, I don't confront him. Overnight, I make arrangements with a sanatorium abroad, get divorced, and run away from home. Yet the moment I truly disappear, my husband loses his mind.

My first day back home and my husband's secretary was already flexing her muscles, trying to grab my antique right out of my hands. Before I could get a word out, she smacked me across the face. Twice. She sneered at me with a look that could freeze fire. "This piece caught my eye, and I'm being nice to you. Better apologize and thank me, pronto!" I moved to confront her, but before I knew it, her bodyguard had me pinned to the ground. She looked down at me like I was nothing. "Trying to challenge me? I'm Mrs. Collins of the Collins family here in Riverton City. You're nothing! One word from my husband and you're out of here!" Passersby started chiming in: "Aren't you going to bow down and beg? She's the apple of Mr. Collins' eye." "Play your cards right, and maybe you'll still be scrubbing toilets in Riverton City." I was ready to set things straight when her title hit me like a ton of bricks. The Collins family of Riverton City? When did Eric get another wife? I dialed Eric's number and laughed calmly. "Eric, since when did you secretly marry someone behind my back?"

When I loved her, I didn't understand what true love was. When I lost her, I had time for her. I was emptied just when I was full of love. Speechless! Life took her to death while I explored the outside world within. Sad trauma of losing her. I am going to miss her in a perfectly impossible world for us. I also note my fight with death as a cause of extreme departure in life. Enjoy!

What? is a mystery story that will leave the readers question what exactly is going on with our main character. The setting is based on the islands of the Philippines. Vladimir is an established business man but is very spontaneous and outgoing. One morning, he woke up in an unfamiliar place with people whom he apparently met the night before with no recollection of who he is and how he got there. He was in an island resort owned by Noah, I hot entrepreneur who is willing to take care of him and give him shelter until he regains his memory. Meanwhile, back in the mainland, Vladimir is allegedly reported missing by his family and led by his husband, Andrew and his friend Davin and Victor. Vladimir's loved ones are on a mission to find him in anyway possible. Will Vlad regain his memory while on Noah's Island? Will Andrew find any leads on how to find Vladimir?

I was in San Aria Bay with my mom, enjoying a quiet, sunlit getaway, when my phone suddenly lit up with a string of messages from my husband's ever-arrogant secretary. She sent a photo. The woman in it had been stripped naked, her body covered in blood, the sight almost unbearable. A voice message followed, her tone dripping with disdain. "Jeannie, do people like you always take advantage of others like this? "Mr. Smith just bought this house, and you already had your mother move in for free? As his chief secretary, it's my responsibility to remove anyone living off him."

To "fix" Leonard Rinehart's oh-so-tragic depression, Naomi Gaffron—yeah, the same girl who once swore she'd only ever marry me—secretly tied the knot with him. So I gave in. Played along with the family's little matchmaking stunt. Married Aurelia Spencer—Brieton City's golden girl who'd been obsessed with me since forever. For seven years, she clung to me like I was oxygen. Every night, curled up like she'd break if I moved. I thought that was happiness. Then one night, I caught her whispering to her best friend: "Leonard's already got international awards. When are you dumping Leone?" "Whatever—I'm stuck with someone I don't love anyway. Doesn't matter who I married. Someone's gotta keep an eye on Leone so he doesn't screw up everything Leonard built." I checked her study. Found a hidden folder—over 100,000 photos of Leonard. A hundred unsent love letters. Even I couldn't fake it anymore. Bought a silicone dummy. Laid out the plan. The fire would be step one. Dead or alive—we're done.