Wildest Imagination Novels & Stories

I woke up at midnight to find my husband out of bed. I called his number, but there was no answer. I searched everywhere and realized he wasn't around. The young nanny had disappeared as well. I barely reached the garage when I heard muffled wanton noises inside. I stormed over, trying to catch the infidel pair in the act. When I opened the door, my husband was standing there with a surgical kit. He was about to head out in his car. He explained, "Honey, I need to catch a flight to Silverport. A patient there needs immediate surgery. You should go to bed without me." I sighed in relief, feeling ridiculous to have doubted him. Suddenly, a few comments rolled before my eyes. "That was so close! They almost got caught! Luckily, Ava had cleverly hidden in the trunk. That bitch will find nothing once Ethan drives away." "My heart is swelling just from watching them! A stoic, genius doctor and a cheery, adorable nanny are a perfect match! Tonya stands no chance against Ava!" I glanced at the shut trunk and slid into the driver's seat with a smile, offering, "Honey, why don't I give you a ride to the airport?"

After years together, we finally hit our wedding day. At the altar, Damien Huxley had the ring halfway on my finger when his old college crush from Francia called. The guy everyone swore loved me more than his own life? His eyes went red. Then he bolted for the airport. My hand froze midair. Then a stream of comments popped up in front of me— [Oh my god, guys! I just saw his old crush's profile pic—she looks exactly like the new cadaver donor at our school!] [No way. Don't freak me out. Keep that creepy comment away from me!] [Either they're twins, or you need glasses. Chill.] I opened my mouth. Nothing came out. I knew about Damien's old crush—our college classmate. But I remembered one thing clearly. She was an only child...

After I get pregnant with my second child, all the pets in my household start viewing me as their biggest enemy. The tabby cat who once loved clinging to me now poops in my nutritious meals every day. The parrot who only knows how to repeat "hello" begins cursing at me to suffer from a miscarriage. "Die, Leanne Foster!" When I feed the goldfish, they protest against my efforts by quitting food entirely. The next day, they are all dead. Even the terrier I've kept with me for ten years lunges at me like a mad bitch the moment she sees the baby clothes in my hands. After I almost suffer from a miscarriage, I plan on giving the pets away. But my daughter, Harper Steele, hugs the terrier and the cat as she pleads to me sadly, "Mommy, please don't give them away!" My husband, Adam Steele, is worried about my unborn baby, but he also doesn't want to hurt Harper's feelings. In the end, he comes up with a compromising solution. "Honey, there's still one month left till your due date. Just endure the pets for a month, okay? I'll lock them up in their crates and make sure that you're safe." Eventually, I agree to that solution after giving it some thought. But unexpectedly, on the day my water breaks, as soon as I dial Adam's number, the pets rush out of their crates simultaneously and begin tearing at my stomach with their claws and fangs. In the end, I close my eyes weakly from the sheer pain. I can never understand why my pets hate the unborn baby in my womb that much. When I open my eyes again, I've returned to the day I find out I'm pregnant with my second child.

After the great war between humans and beasts, both sides agreed to let the half-beasts govern the world. Every hundred years, a union between humans and beasts would be arranged. The first half-beast child of the generation would be the next ruler of the Human-Beast Alliance. In my past life, I chose to marry the eldest son of the wolf clan, renowned for his unwavering devotion. I was the first to bear him a child—a rare half-beast white wolf. Our son was named the next ruler of the Human-Beast Alliance, and my husband, by extension, rose to immense power. My younger sister, who had chosen to marry into the fox clan out of vain admiration for their beauty, was not so fortunate. The fox clan's heir, a notorious philanderer, eventually contracted a disease and lost his ability to father children. Jealous and resentful, my sister set a fire that burned both me and my young white wolf son alive. When I opened my eyes again, it was the very day of the human-beast mating ceremony. This time, my sister was quicker—she climbed into the wolf clan heir Jacob's bed before I had the chance. I knew then: she had been reborn too. But what she didn't know… was that Jacob's nature was cruel and violent. He worshiped bloodshed, not love. And he was anything but a worthy mate.

In the tenth year of my diagnosis with selective mutism, my mother decided it was time to bring home a little brother for me from an orphanage. Her eyes immediately landed on a boy in the back row, but the head of the orphanage opposed without hesitation. "Ms. Lane, this kid has been nothing but trouble since he was small. Just two days ago, he made an old man on crutches play goalie. If you take him home, your life will never be peaceful!" I looked on without the slightest interest. My mother, however, was exhilarated. Pointing at the boy, she declared excitedly, "Then, he's exactly the one I want!" And suddenly, lines of bullet comments scrolled before me. 'The mom cracks me up. Her eyes practically sparkled like spotlights.' 'Our brooding female lead grew up friendless. Her mom's been worrying about that for years. Now she's found this rascal, there's no way she's letting go.' 'Honestly, fate is wild. The mom instantly picks her future son-in-law. In their past lives, the female lead died trying to save him. Now that they've both been reborn, maybe they'll finally get a second chance together.'

It's 11:30 pm. Home alone, I decide to order some takeout. When the map shows the delivery guy is zero miles away, I receive a call from him. I pick up, only to hear unsettling silence from the other end. I hang up, annoyed. The next moment, the guy texts me, "Sorry, I'm hearing-impaired and unable to speak. I called to notify you to pick up your food as soon as possible. I can't explain things over the phone, and I apologize for that." Then comes another text. "You must've been waiting for a long time. I've left your order at your door, so please pick it up as soon as you can." Just as I prepare to open the door, I see bars of live comments—reminiscent of livestream chats—floating right before my eyes. "Don't open the door! That dude isn't a delivery guy at all! He's a murderer!" "He called you to check if you're a woman living alone!" "Seriously, why are all thriller story protagonists always so dumb? The delivery guy is obviously suspicious, yet she still wants to open the door."

My husband and my best friend had seemingly vanished during my grandfather-in-law's funeral. As I searched for them, I passed Shawn Whitaker's coffin and suddenly saw a live chat window flash into view: [Oh goodie, we're finally dealing with a male lead with a 200 IQ! He dragged Best Girl straight into the coffin before that bitch could find out!] [Aww, he's comforting Best Girl because she's scared of the dark! Aaaaahhhhh!] [That annoying extra is still outside looking for Vincent. She's so dumb, oh my god. I'm right here cheering for Best Boy to cheat with Best Girl because I swear that bitch exists just to get in their way!] Fury surged through me. I moved to flip the coffin lid open, but Jasmine grabbed my arm. "Wait! He can't possibly be in there. I think he went to buy Grandpa coffin nails." [Get yourself a little sister who helps you find happiness like Jazzy, chat.] [And now, in the warm, cramped, humid darkness, two bodies collide and sparks fly. This is metal as hell.] [It's also dangerous as hell. I'm just glad our guy was smart enough to leave a crack for air.] I smirked. Oh, was he? I slammed the lid shut, dragged a nearby lounge chair over, and settled into it. "We've got an hour before the funeral begins, don't we? I think I'll keep Grandpa company." The audience was stunned. [An hour?! They're going to die in there!]

I never wanted to gamble, yet I could not stop myself from going to the tables. I kept losing, over and over, until I was buried under ten million in debt. After investigating the cause, I finally learned the truth–my older brother had placed me under a puppet-like control. Every loss was recorded under my name, while all the winnings went straight into his pocket. My wife was furious. She slapped me, took our son, and divorced me. I tried to explain myself again and again, but she refused to listen. "Nathan, can you stop making excuses? Did someone hold a knife to your throat? You chose to gamble." After that, my brother only grew more ruthless, raising the stakes until I lost everything overnight. With nothing left, my creditors chopped off my limbs and threw me into the sea, leaving me to drown. Even after my death, they did not spare my wife and child. She was humiliated to death, and my son was sold overseas, his whereabouts unknown. When I opened my eyes again, I had returned to the day I first lost control and went to the gambling den.

My wife, Alisha West, has always been obsessively frugal. After marrying her, my single guilty pleasure became blowing money on luxury watches—almost like revenge for how absurdly tightfisted she was. By the time our daughter, Elyse Day, turned 7, she had inherited every bit of her mother’s penny-pinching nature. The two of them looked completely out of place in our sprawling mansion. And I loved it. I’d slip into my latest custom-tailored suits and watch them wince at my credit card statements, their expressions twisted in quiet pain. Until one day, lines of floating text suddenly appeared before my eyes. [This spendthrift idiot is still shopping? Doesn’t he know his wife’s company is about to go bankrupt?] [She’s been drained dry supporting this parasite. Her T-shirt collar is practically worn out from washing. Good thing the financially savvy male lead is about to show up and save her.] [Can’t wait for Alisha to file for divorce and kick this useless freeloader out. Let’s see how he survives fighting stray dogs for scraps under a bridge.] I slammed the limited-edition Richard Mille watch onto the table. Alisha, who was crouched on the floor breaking down delivery boxes for recycling, and Elyse, who was helping stomp them flat, both jumped in shock. A chill ran through me. I lunged forward, snatched the battered cardboard box from Elyse’s hands, and held it tightly against my chest. "No… no more buying. I’m returning this watch. "And these boxes… don’t sell them. I think we might need them someday… to lay out under a bridge when we’re sleeping outside…"

As I fought a stray dog for a loaf of moldy bread, distinguished guests arrived at the orphanage. They'd come to find the long-lost heir of a wealthy family. After confirming their choice, they donated $100 million to the orphanage and handed out chocolates to every child. My mouth watered as I reached for a box, but glowing messages flashed before my eyes. [Lawrence, show your locket! They're here to bring you home!] [Don't let that impostor steal your birthright. It's yours!] They revealed the truth: the elegant couple were my biological parents, and the poised girl beside them was my fiancée. Yet I clutched my chocolate and ran, aware of their true purpose: they'd come here just for the fake heir. Even if I revealed my locket, they'd not pay me any attention.