Sci-fi Stories

The Wife They Buried: Now Watch Her Rise

My experimental cure for a degenerative neurological disease had a bizarre requirement: "positive emotional resonance." Love was a luxury my family never afforded me. My twin Jessica, my parents David and Linda, and even my husband Mark, bled me dry, taking credit for my genius. The Phoenix Foundation announced my therapy was failing: seven days until my death. Still, they demanded more. Parents needed me to fix Jessica's buggy app for a funding round. Mark required elaborate legal strategies for his career. My talent, always theirs. My head throbbed, my body failing, but they saw only annoyance, demanding I work. Jessica feigned illness, then brazenly demanded IP rights to my groundbreaking app. Mark, dismissing my imminent death as "dramatics," framed me for Jessica' s hit-and-run, securing my forced committal-a painful death sentence. He even injected me with a lethal dose. My ultimate betrayal came when Jessica brutally attacked me with shears, and Mark, seeing my bleeding face, still prioritized her comfort. Lying there, bleeding and abandoned, a cold clarity dawned: they would never change. My life, a relentless sacrifice, was ending in torment. Why did they always break me, only to demand more? But then, a whisper from the Foundation: "Protocol transition." "Karmic Retribution Resonance." Not death, but a second chance. Not for love, but for their regret. I would become Anna Hayes, an architect of their downfall, finally taking back what was mine.

A System's Cruel Joke

My body was a battlefield of pain, every nerve screaming as I grasped for control. A chilling, mechanical voice echoed in my mind, a death sentence: "Mission failed. Countdown initiated: 30 days." I was Olivia, or rather, the soul inhabiting her body, given a second chance by a mysterious System to mend fractured relationships with Daniel and Ethan. I' d poured my heart into earning their affection, and for a time, I succeeded. We laughed, we shared meals, we were a family once more. My life extended, filled with a joy I' d never known. But then Clara arrived. Introduced as a long-lost cousin, she systematically dismantled everything. Charming, fragile, and a master manipulator, she twisted their love, turning their protective instincts to her, casting me as the jealous villain. My carefully earned affection points plummeted, and with them, my health. The pain began, a constant, gnawing reminder of their betrayal. Every attempt to remind them of our bond was met with accusation, and every tear from Clara sealed my fate. How could they be so blind? So utterly consumed by her act that they couldn' t see the real me, dying before their eyes? Was the past we shared, the love we'd built, truly so easily erased? As the countdown relentlessly ticked, a grim acceptance settled upon me. I was losing everything, abandoned by the very people I was fighting to live for. The fight was gone. But then, a cruel knock at the door – Daniel' s voice, impatient and cold. It was time for my final act.

Betrayed By Love, Reborn By Fate

The cheap cotton sheets felt real, too real for a man who' d just died a brutal death in a remote facility. My eyes snapped open to my familiar apartment, the one I shared with Sarah, a place I hadn' t seen in over a year. Then I saw my reflection: unmarred, clear-eyed, not the skeletal, scarred figure I' d become. It was the day. The day my life was systematically dismantled by the two people I trusted most: my cousin, Liam White, and my ex-fiancée, Chloe Davis. Liam, my supposed brother, had twisted Chloe' s love for me into hate, then moved into her mansion, living the life that was supposed to be mine. He fabricated lies about my gambling debts and mistresses, even selling Chloe' s prized vintage Porsche and blaming me. Her wealth and influence became the weapons she used to destroy me. The final blow came with Olivia Reed, Chloe' s best friend, pregnant with Liam' s child. They faked a fall, blamed me for her miscarriage, and used Chloe' s power to have me locked away in a hellish facility. I remembered the sharp pain, my own blood pooling on concrete, and then… nothing. Until now. My phone rang, cutting through the silence. Chloe Davis. In my past life, I' d pleaded, begged, and been ruined. "Ethan Miller, you piece of trash! Where is my husband?" she shrieked, venom dripping from her voice. But the man who feared her was dead. With a newfound calm, I ended the call. The silence that followed was a declaration of war, and this time, I knew all the moves.

The Last Call: From Star to Scapegoat

My life was a blueprint for success. Ethan Miller, a rising star in architecture, about to claim the American Horizon Architectural Prize, surrounded by my loving sister Ashley, my beautiful fiancée Victoria, and even my adopted brother Jason. But one call, one dark warehouse, shattered it all. Ambushed, my hands crushed, my career obliterated, I woke to a nightmare. My own sister and fiancée, the women I trusted most, confessed to orchestrating the brutal attack to clear the path for Jason’s success. They abandoned me in an earthquake, then left me for dead on an exploding yacht, all while publicly slandering my name to cover their tracks. The betrayal was a pain far deeper than any broken bone, a horrifying injustice that twisted my soul. Why them? Why Jason? Why this absolute destruction of my life? But just as despair threatened to consume me, a mysterious offer emerged: "reforging" through Phoenix BioGenesis. I accepted, not for healing, but for a chilling rebirth, returning as a ghost of my former self, a silent observer ready to meticulously dismantle the lives of those who thought they had won. This time, the masterpiece would be my revenge.

Lost Time, Found Love: Ava’s Return

The first thing I felt was the slow, steady beep of a machine. I opened my eyes to a sterile white ceiling, definitely not my bedroom. A nurse rushed in, dropping her clipboard, whispering, "She' s awake!" Then a doctor: "Mrs. Hayes? Ava? Can you tell me your name?" "Ava Reed... Ava Hayes." "And the year?" "2023. It' s October." Their pitying looks made my skin crawl. "Ava," the doctor said gently, "It' s not 2023." He pointed to a digital screen: July 12, 2038. Fifteen years. Gone. Just like that. The car crash that felt like yesterday had apparently happened a decade and a half ago. My Lily, my four-year-old daughter, would be nineteen. My husband, Ethan… I called him, desperate, finding his contact on a sleek, alien device. A voice answered, but it wasn' t his. It was cold, hollow. "Who is this?" "Ethan? It' s me. It' s Ava." Then, a harsh, bitter laugh. "My wife is dead. She died fifteen years ago. Don' t you dare use her name again." He was about to hang up. "The scar!" I screamed, "Under your left rib, from Miller' s Peak! And Lily… she called her bear 'Sir Reginald Fluffen-Bottom' !" Silence on the line. Then a whisper: "How… how do you know that?" Who was this stranger on the phone? What had happened to my life, my family? I was Ava Reed, a woman robbed of fifteen years. "Because I am your wife, you idiot. Oceanville General, Room 304. Ten minutes." I hung up, a cold, hard knot forming in my stomach. Ethan never showed. Instead, a slick lawyer offered me a hotel, a car, a credit card. I took the car. My daughter. Lily.

The Ex Who Broke His Empire

The air in the grand hall of the Global Tech Summit hummed with my latest triumph, an AI capable of predicting global market trends with terrifying precision. Then I saw him, Liam Thorne, in the front row, his arrogant smirk a chilling reminder of a past I thought I'd buried. I' d poured my genius into his company, Titan Corp, building his vision, only for him to dismantle my own company with my tech, gloating as he ruined me. "My ex-partner, Sarah, spent years building this company, only for you to swoop in and take over. She quietly left and died heartbroken. You deserve this. I' ve been waiting for this day since you first shook my hand." He stole my IP, crippled my business, and left me with crushing debt and public disgrace. Why had I ever trusted him? How could such brilliance be twisted into such cruelty? This time, there would be no mistakes. Reborn from the ashes of my past, I stood on that stage, ready to write my own future.

Erased by Love, Forged by Revenge

The warning chimed at noon, not from a guest or the wedding planner, but a sterile blue pop-up in my vision: [System Warning: Marriage to Mark Turner not detected. Seven days remaining until digital erasure.] My phone buzzed. A trending story: "Tech Mogul Mark Turner Weds Socialite Olivia Crest in Surprise Ceremony!" My Mark, in his custom-tailored suit, was slipping a ring onto Olivia Crest' s finger – his mentor' s daughter, who he' d called a "business acquaintance." My world went silent-the wilting roses, the empty chairs, the mocking blue notification. His call came. "Ava? Where are you? The press is going crazy." He sighed. "Olivia and I... it just happened. It's better for the company this way. Be reasonable." "Reasonable?" The word shattered in my mouth. He told me he' d wire money, then dismissed me like a fired employee as Olivia' s sweet voice called, "Honey, come cut the cake!" I stood in my heavy white dress, a joke in a room of dead flowers. The hollow echo of his words-"be reasonable"-bounced around the empty hall. My hand found cigarettes, something I' d quit for him ten years ago. It took three tries to light one, my hands shaking. I watched the smoke curl. Comments on the livestream jabbed: "She deserves a man like Mark, not some behind-the-scenes nobody." "I heard his ex was some clingy programmer." They didn't know I wrote the code for their app, that my AI patent was their fortune' s foundation. Then Mark pulled Olivia close, eyes gleaming into the camera: "She walked in and brought the color. She is my life's greatest acquisition." He never said things like that to me. Digital erasure. Seven days. A bizarre, romantic pact I had coded into my AI – a digital soul-bond to a legal marriage with Mark. My ultimate proof of devotion. Now, a death sentence. I crushed the cigarette under my satin shoe. Fine. If I was going to be erased, I wasn't going quietly. I wasn't going home to cry. I was going to his wedding reception.

His Twisted Game, Her Rebirth

The fluorescent hum of the deserted office was my constant companion, a symphony to my late-night grind as an architect, building dreams one blueprint at a time. Then, out of nowhere, text shimmered in the air, a chilling heads-up display only I could see: "[Target acquired: The Architect. She' s working late again. Perfect.]" My blood ran cold as more lines appeared, taunting me with plans for a "Chivalry Challenge" at a $5,700 prize. It finally clicked-Mark Johnson, that slimy social media influencer who' d turn women' s fear into profit, had found me. He came, smooth as ever, with a drugged coffee, mocking me while I fought through a fogged mind, my desperate calls for help swallowed by his practiced lies to the security guard. My brothers came back for me, their faces illuminated by flashing lights, my last-ditch effort to crash his car paying off just as I succumbed to the drug. But the nightmare wasn' t over; Mark walked free, his lawyer spinning tales of my "manic episodes," leaving my brother Chris to face assault charges for defending me. The injustice burned, fueling a rage that cleared the haze: he wouldn't win, not if I could help it. "This isn't over," I declared, my voice steady, eyes fixed on my brothers, ready to dismantle his empire. Then Michael sent me the link-Mark' s new video, painting me as the aggressor, a "crazy" woman. Scrolling through the venomous comments, one caught my eye: "DesignDiva88," my colleague Lisa Chen, claiming she' d told him to "back off." She was complicit, a willing accessory, and with that, I knew exactly how to begin.

The Billionaire Surgeon's Deadly Secret

My wedding was just around the corner. Instead, I was in a hospital watching my mother, Eleanor, fight for her life. She'd suffered a massive heart attack, triggered when she found my fiancé and best friend, Sarah, together in my bed. Doctors said she needed a new heart; I, a perfect match, gave mine without a second thought. But my mother died, despite my sacrifice. I woke up with a state-of-the-art artificial heart, enduring a dull, persistent ache that became my constant shadow for seven agonizing years. Julian, the renowned cardiothoracic surgeon who performed the transplant, became my 'savior' and then my husband, showering me with concern. Then, a whispered conversation cut through the silence of his study, turning my world upside down. I overheard Julian confessing everything: he orchestrated my mother's illness and death to steal my healthy heart, not for her, but for his beloved stepsister, Chloe. He even admitted he saw me as a mere 'vessel,' a backup plan for Chloe's well-being. The woman now living with my original heart, Chloe, later gleefully admitted she was the one who engineered my mother's heart attack. The realization was a punch to the gut, a burning injustice that consumed me. My seven years of suffering, my mother's death, my shattered life – all for a manipulative scheme. My body was failing, but my spirit, fueled by rage and a cold, clear determination, ignited. I would not just survive; I would expose them, reclaim my life, and ensure they paid for every single beat of pain they had inflicted.

The Apocalypse Architect: Designing His Demise

The phantom chill of icy water jolted me awake, but I wasn' t drowning in Lake Champlain; I was safe in my luxurious Boston apartment. My fiancé, Matthew, and his mother stood over my bed, demanding I sign papers to dissolve our shared assets, claiming it was just a formality. But I recognized this moment, a chilling deja vu-I had been reborn just thirty days before "The Great Silence." In my last life, this conversation ended with me refusing, crying, feeling utterly betrayed and abandoned. I remembered how he' d later abandon me to monstrous creatures, using me as a decoy for his pregnant mistress. This time, there were no tears, only a cold, hard resolve. I signed away everything we had built, but my enemies didn't realize they were signing their own death warrants. My plan wasn't just to survive the coming apocalypse, but to exact a ruthless, quiet revenge. I walked out, leaving Matthew clueless, carrying his driver's license-a silent weapon. I drove north to my reclusive father's fortified compound, desperate to warn him and bring my Army Ranger brother home before the world went silent. Days later, Matthew called, desperate and alone, his mother and mistress gone. He begged for help, but I sent him to a decoy cabin, tracked by a hidden camera. Watching him stumble in, not alone as promised, I saw his true nature. The ensuing fight drew creatures, and he resorted to a horrifying act of self-mutilation to survive. He eventually found our true haven, using a child as bait to draw the creatures to our gate. But I had one last, silent trick up my sleeve, linked to his greed and his pride. With a single click, Matthew's old smartphone became his personal alarm, a blaring siren in a world that hunted by sound. His end was swift, brutal, and orchestrated by me. We rescued the traumatized child, Elyse, a silent victim like my own brother, Andrew, who had also mutilated himself to save innocents. Our fortress became a home, a sanctuary of silence and love, as we rebuilt a new family from the ashes of the old world. We became protectors, finding purpose and happiness not in spoken words, but in the enduring strength of our bond.

Finding Fullness in Quiet

I stood there, presenting my research, my heart thrumming with artificially amplified love for Professor Alistair Finch. For three years, the "Aura Emboldener" patch had allowed me, Sarah Miller of the "Quiet Heart," to feel a full spectrum of emotions, to build a future, and to believe in our genuine connection. I' d gambled my entire inheritance on The Phoenix Initiative, hoping to permanently cure my lifelong emotional flatness. Then Alistair spoke, his voice smooth and utterly dismissive. "Sarah," he said, turning cooler, "this has been an interesting academic diversion." Beside him, Victoria Sterling smiled a small, knowing, unkind curve of her lips as he announced their engagement. His words hit me like a physical blow. My vibrant, borrowed emotional life, fueled by the patch, instantly felt like a branding iron. My phone buzzed: "Target unrecoverable. Mission failure. Await extraction." Extraction meant Reflection House, the patch removed, and a terrifying return to my "Quiet Heart," only this time, a profound apathy worse than before-a complete emotional flatline. How could my desperate journey to feel, my three years of intense, patch-fueled devotion, be dismissed as a mere "diversion"? How could I go back to a silent world, now knowing the joy and pain I'd experienced, only to feel nothing at all? The thought of this deeper silence, this absolute void, was terrifying. But what Alistair and The Phoenix Initiative didn't grasp was that this very blankness, this chilling apathy, would become my unexpected shield and my new path. With no emotions left to manipulate, I was finally free to refuse him, to see through their games, and to discover a truer, quieter connection awaiting me back home.

The 100% Lie

For ten years, I lived my perfect California dream. A tech CEO husband, a brilliant son, a sprawling mansion, and a System telling me my husband' s affection was a solid 100%. This was my hard-earned reward, my permanent escape from a gray Ohio past. Then the doorbell rang and everything shattered. Standing there was Chloe Davis, Mark' s college sweetheart, looking unsettlingly like me. My shy son, Leo, ran and hugged her, crying, "Aunt Chloe!" My smile vanished. My perfect life spiraled into a nightmare. Mark abandoned me burning with fever to celebrate Chloe' s birthday with our son, then shamelessly lied about car troubles. I found his phone password wasn't our anniversary, but hers. And when Chloe deliberately triggered my severe shellfish allergy, my own husband stood by, indifferent, declaring, "Chloe is pregnant with my child." The System still glowed with 100% affection, but that number felt like a cruel, meaningless lie. Was I just a temporary placeholder, an understudy until the original returned to play my part? Had my entire perfect life been a meticulously crafted deception? When the System' s emergency protocol saved me from certain death, something inside me snapped. The truth was unbearable, but clear. I was out. Time to reclaim my real self, even if it meant leaving everything behind.

Eight Deaths, One Life

Alex Carter was supposed to be my protector, my ex-boyfriend whose job it was to keep me safe. But his heart, his entire world, orbited Chloe Davis, his childhood sweetheart and a rising social media influencer. Then came Chloe's fiancé's yacht party, a night I' d lived through eight times before, where masked men stormed the deck and dragged us both below. The kidnapper's satellite phone rang, and Alex' s voice, frantic and raw, filled the small cabin. "What do you want?" he demanded. The voice on the other end was gravelly. "A choice, Mr. Carter. We only have room for one return passenger. Your call. The influencer or the other one." There was no hesitation, not a single agonizing second. "Let Chloe go. Take the money, just let her go." The words hit me harder than any bullet, crushing me with the weight of my own worthlessness as I was untied, dragged to the edge of the yacht, and pushed into the icy water. I had died eight times before, each "favor" Alex cashed in to rewind time, always for Chloe. But the ninth time, as darkness consumed me, a cold, sterile light bloomed behind my eyelids. `...DESPERATE PLEA FOR SELF-RELIANCE DETECTED...` `...OVERRIDING OPERATIVE CARTER'S AUTHORITY...` `...ACTIVATING HIDDEN PROTOCOL...` `[SELF-RESCUE PROTOCOL: ENGAGED]` I wasn't just being revived; I was being granted administrative access to my own mission file, my own life. This time, I' d save myself.

Intergalatic Passion

When Marisa first met Thomas, both of them were fully naked. She was a UCLA student on gap year and he, an alien from a war-torn planet. He saved her from thugs and their attraction was mutual. But, he had a hidden agenda : he wanted to study his enemy's weapon which had embedded inside Marisa. Thomas hired Marisa and brought her back to the HQ of the high tech corporation he founded with alien technology. She loved him but as an alien, he had a lot to learn about human love. His number 2 in the corporation, CEO Ray Coleman, who had been planning a mutiny, took advantage of this and went all out to win Marisa's heart. At the same time, the beautiful CFO Nicole, who had been in love with Thomas for a long time, did not want to be left behind and revealed her love to Thomas. What made things worse was Thomas' arch rival, Hawk, arrived at Earth and started a war with him. "I'm an alien who knows nothing about love. But with you around, I believe love can conquer all!" Thomas declared. Will Thomas finally win back Marisa's heart after knowing what love is? Can he and Marisa defend themselves and Earth from Hawk's attack?

Betrayal's Echo: A Wife's Revenge

Dr. Evelyn Reed had finally done it. Three years of relentless work, the neural interface cure for her paralyzed husband, Ethan, was a success. A triumphant smile touched her lips as she reached for her phone to share the life-changing news. But an email caught her eye, a cheerful invitation that turned her world to ice. "Dr. Ethan Vance and Miss Tiffany Reed request the pleasure of your company at the celebration of their marriage." Ethan. Her husband. Tiffany. Her own niece. It was a sick joke, a complete error, yet the high-end Parisian wedding agency confirmed its legitimacy. Her joy evaporated, replaced by a cold dread as she drove through the night, a ghost to a celebration she was never meant to see. She saw him there, standing, whole, laughing, with Tiffany tucked into his arm, radiant in white. He kissed her, a tender kiss meant for the world to see, and Evelyn' s world tilted off its axis. Then she heard them talking, overheard their cruel confessions: he had always loved Tiffany, while Evelyn was merely "a necessary step," "a convenient solution." The man she had sacrificed everything for, the man who had promised his undying love, had been betraying her for two years with her own blood. The pain of betrayal, the hollowness of her sacrifice, the absolute injustice of it all, left her hollowed out, empty of tears. She watched him walk away from her in the hospital, choosing Tiffany, right after a fire, right after she found out a bomb, orchestrated by Tiffany, nearly killed her. This wasn't a love triangle; it was a war, and she was losing. Driven by a quiet, ice-cold resolve, Evelyn began to fight back.

An Outsider

Waking up and settling into a dangerous situation, Jordyn Barker suddenly turned into a special soldier of the future, when the world had just experienced a terrible disaster with thousands of dangerous monsters always lurking human's life. Her journey to become a great soldier begins here.

Stolen Code, Broken Heart, Fierce Comeback

The flickering TV in my dingy motel room was the only light, illuminating the peeling wallpaper. On screen, Ethan Vance, my ex-fiancé, smiled his perfect, camera-ready smile, touting 'EvolveAI' and his "future-defining" Prometheus algorithm. Reporters swarmed him; he was the king of Silicon Valley, the brilliant mind behind the world' s most advanced AI. My world. My code. My future. He had stolen it all. Everything. I remembered the day he left, his eyes cold and empty, my three years of coding on a hard drive in his bag, a venomous "You were always just… holding me back." He didn't just take the code; he took my savings, my reputation, blacklisting me from an industry I helped build, all while Bethany Cole, my best friend, stood arm-in-arm with him, eyes gleaming with triumph. They left me with nothing but eviction notices, forcing me to sell everything I owned, living as a ghost under pseudonyms, cleaning up security flaws for companies that would never hire Scarlett Hayes. The pain of that betrayal was a constant, suffocating darkness, a deep pit I couldn' t climb out of, trapped by unseen enemies and their whispers of my failure. But watching him on that screen, basking in my stolen glory, a cold, sharp rage began to burn through the despair. In that cheap motel, I swore a vow: I would get justice, I would take back what was mine, and he would not build his empire on my ruins. My chance came weeks later: a vulnerability in his IPO network led me to a familiar digital signature-a back door I'd built into 'Prometheus,' a failsafe only I knew. He was arrogant, so certain he' d erased me he never looked for the ghost I' d left behind. He was on the verge of becoming a billionaire. And I had the key to his kingdom. A slow smile spread across my face. The game wasn't over. It had just begun. I wasn't going to be a victim. I was the storm he never saw coming. I would let him climb to the peak of his triumph. And then, I would burn it all to the ground.

Girl From The Stars

Join Luna, a curious girl aboard the SS Celestia, as she explores uncharted galaxies, encounters mystical beings, and embarks on a quest for the fabled Cosmic Key. Packed with wonder, danger, and the thrill of discovery, "The Girl from the Stars" is a captivating sci-fi adventure that will leave you breathless.

She Saved Me

She Saved Me In the futuristic world of 2099, a genetic disorder was affecting the whole world. It came like a ghost, causing casualties even life long damages to humans. Can one girl change this disaster?

Two Years, A Cosmic Lie

I poured every spare dollar from my part-time jobs and scholarships into a scuffed-up piggy bank, dreaming of a future with Chloe and a promise ring that would seal our love. But then I heard her laugh-a laugh that wasn't for me. Just an hour after I ended things, saying "We're over," my best friend, Liam, walked up, clueless as ever, showing off an expensive watch Chloe had helped him pick out, a watch that screamed what a joke my cheap promise ring was. I ducked into a stairwell, my heart pounding, and pulled out my phone. In our shared photo album, I found a selfie of Chloe and her friends at a fancy rooftop bar. Zooming in, I saw it-my piggy bank, next to a bottle of champagne, being used as an ashtray. The memory hit me: overhearing Chloe brag to her friends about using me as "A tool, a pawn to make Liam finally notice me," all while calling me "a little charity case" and "so boring." My world shattered. Two years, all a lie, a game where I was just a prop in her drama with Liam. The cheap daisies I held for her surprise visit were crushed in my hand, my stomach churning with nausea. I spent the night walking, my mind a blank, howling void. The pain solidified into a cold, hard resolve: I had to disappear. Five years of isolation. No friends. No family. No Chloe. To me, it sounded less like a punishment and more like a rescue. I went to see Professor Davies and signed up for the Ares Project.