Wildest Imagination Novels & Stories

Leo Parker, my fiance, shoved me out the door with his own hands. He used me as bait to buy time for himself and my best friend, Jessica Thorne, to escape. I'd never forget him shutting the door. I'd never forget his last words through the narrow crack. "Thank you for your sacrifice, Chloe." When I open my eyes again, I'm back to the day before the zombie outbreak. Leo is gently urging me to hurry up and transfer 150 thousand dollars for the remodeling. It's the money we set aside for the home we plan to live in after we get married. In my past life, he set a trap and drained every cent of my savings. This time, I smile and agree. The only difference is that the 150 thousand dollars is going to build my doomsday bunker. And I'm also planning something special for them. After all, since I get a second chance at life, I should properly thank them for the "kindness" they showed me last time when they shoved me out to get torn apart by zombies.

I'm a noble wolf woman. As soon as I was born, I'm destined to become a candidate in pursuit of the future Wolf Queen's position. In my past life, Louis Hanover, the heir to the Wolf King, hated the fact that I had given birth to a black pup, which was viewed as an inferior lifeform. So, he killed the pup with his own hands. After that, he whipped me to the point my body was all mangled and squished. Only then did he order to have my body tossed to the mountains so that the beasts could feed on me. Before I breathed my last, I vowed to the heavens that I'd make Louis regret everything in the next life. When I open my eyes again, I find out that I've gotten reborn to the day Louis is bound to choose his wife. This time, he chooses my cousin, Chloe Dunn, who happens to be a brown wolf woman. Brown wolves' social status is second to white wolves. When Louis shoots me a look filled with hatred and disgust, I realize that he has gotten reborn as well. In my past life, Chloe had gotten married to a brown wolf man, and yet she was able to give birth to a prestigious white pup. Everyone showered her with praises because of that. This time, Louis thinks he'll be able to sire a white pup just by choosing Chloe as his wife. Little does he know that only pureblooded wolves can give birth to pureblooded kin. How can he, a mixed-blooded wolf man, possibly sire a noble white pup?

My boyfriend thought I was too fat at 121 pounds. I signed up for a gym and started working out like crazy, but the more I tried to lose weight, the more I gained. Meanwhile, my best friend, Chloe Woods, was doing late-night eating streams every single day, stuffing herself with steaks, seafood, and greasy takeout. Not only did she not gain weight, she dropped from 154 pounds to 143. When my boyfriend started tearing into me even worse than before, I suddenly heard the tabby cat’s voice in my head. “You idiot. Chloe’s got you trapped in a weight-swap system. “No matter how hard you try to lose weight, she’s the one getting thinner. Every pound you lose is a pound she drops. She’s trying to ruin you.” I froze and turned to look at my best friend, Chloe. She was staring at my boyfriend without even trying to hide it, her eyes full of admiration. Then the tabby’s voice exploded in my ears again. “Chloe is obsessed with that trashy loser. Once she gets skinny, the two of them will hook up. Then they'll team up to get you killed and spend your settlement money living a happy life.” The moment I learned the truth, I smiled. Since my so-called best friend wanted to be skinny that badly, if I made her whole body weigh less than 50 pounds, she’d probably be very grateful to me, right?

When I was born, the nurse handed me over to my parents, and the smiles on their faces instantly vanished. Hovering over their son's smooth head was a line of numbers that no one else could see. 6570 days. It was exactly 18 years. Not a day more, not a day less. The nurse thought they were just nervous first-time parents, but my parents knew the truth. That number was my lifespan. While everyone else in the delivery room was celebrating a new life, my parents were staring at my death. For the next 18 years, I was the most precious person in the family. No matter how poor we were, the eggs were always mine, the new clothes were always mine, and the meat was always mine. My younger sister could only look on enviously. My parents often told her, "Let your brother have it. He doesn't have much time left." I was well-behaved from a young age, never causing trouble, quietly waiting to die. On my 18th birthday, I blew out the candles and said a sincere goodbye to the world. The next day, my parents and sister, dressed in black clothes, walked into my room with swollen eyes. I rubbed my eyes, smiled at them, and said, "Good morning." The air froze. The sadness on their faces slowly turned into astonishment, then coldness.

When I woke up, I had somehow become trapped in the body of my disobedient daughter. I had sacrificed everything, living frugally to send her to the best school. Yet, she called me almost daily, claiming—like someone trapped in a paranoid delusion—that her teachers and classmates were out to harm her. She was willful and rebellious, picky about food, befriending the wrong crowd, and even dating a troublemaker at a young age. As a sister, she was far from kind, constantly bullying her younger brother. And school? Surely, it couldn’t be harder than working a full-time job. But then, as I lived in her shoes, a group of girls cornered me in the restroom, kicking me mercilessly. Returning home, I was met not with care but with a sorry excuse for a meal. Only then did I begin to understand the pain my daughter had endured...

"I'll cut to the chase. I'm the villainess in this story." Everyone in this wealthy, elite family adored my poor, fragile adopted sister. My older brother Damien would snap, "Don't scare Bella. Her weak heart can't take it." My other brother, Magnus, would add, "Lend Bella your nightgown, all right? It's wasted on you." Even my fiancé said, "This is nothing more than a marriage of convenience. My true love has always been Bella." In my last life, I humbled myself endlessly to please them. What did I receive in return? They sent me to a mental asylum and I died in agony. Then I came back to life on the day of my engagement party. A voice echoed in my mind and made its announcement. [The Madness Reward System has chosen you, Marceline Blanc. Any unhinged behavior will earn rewards worth hundreds of millions of dollars.] I grinned and sent the pompous, ten-tier cake crashing to the floor. "I'm done with this shitty family. Goodbye, you miserable bastards."

In a world ravaged by global nuclear fallout, I struggled to survive alongside my fragile, sweet-faced best friend, dodging one radiation storm after another. The route to the Central Safety Zone was blocked—we had no choice but to use two detonators to blast open the tunnel. Otherwise, we would be caught in the storm, our bodies rotting away until we either dissolved into blood sludge or turned into zombies. … In my previous life, I had risked everything to secure those detonators, only for my best friend to hand them over to a complete stranger without hesitation. "They have elderly people and children on their side too," she said earnestly. "One detonator can save many lives. Iris, you can't be selfish." I was so furious my blood pressure nearly exploded, but with no other option, I went straight into a horde of zombies to steal backup detonators. I lost an arm in the process, drenched in blood and barely standing. Yet, she complained that I was covered in gore and had frightened the children. After finally regrouping with the main convoy, I rushed to deliver the formula for anti-radiation medicine to the research institute so that more people could be saved. But she accused me of stealing supplies and trying to flee, which led to my expulsion from the base, and death, my body rotting away under the radiation. When I opened my eyes again, there was still one hour left before the radiation storm hit. I looked down at the two detonators in my hand, then at my pitiful, tear-brimmed best friend—and I smiled. Since she loved being a good person so much, this time, I would let her be one to her heart's content.

When the star pirate, Black Mamba demanded one of us give birth to his child, my older sister didn't hesitate to sacrifice me. I never imagined that after my cruel death and eventual rebirth, she would throw herself into his clutches instead. When I saw that terrible serpentine swelling once more, horrifying memories sent shivers through my body. All I wanted to do was run. But my sister grabbed me by the jaw. "You've been reborn too! I'm going to make you suffer!" I could tell she meant it.

I'm at the supermarket when an old woman I don't know suddenly grips my hand tightly. I instinctively shield my baby bump, but she says, "Someone has placed a swap spell on you. The dead baby is about to be transferred to your body soon." I think she's a liar, but she says, "Hurry up and try to make yourself vomit. You should try to throw up as much of that fish you just ate as you can."

Queenie Livingston, my best friend whom I have cared for over the years, gives me a bottle of perfume. I immediately turn around and pour its contents down the toilet. In my previous life, that perfume made me sprout hair all over my body and reek. I was shunned by my colleagues, and my then-boyfriend and superior, Preston Zimmerman, wasted no time in dumping me and hooking up with Queenie. I desperately sought medical treatment back then, but with nowhere left to turn, I died in utter agony and despair. Only after my death did I learn that the grotesque condition was caused by the perfume Queenie had maliciously tampered with. When I opened my eyes again, I found myself back on the exact day Queenie gave me the perfume.