Summer Camp Pranks Novels & Stories

After my girlfriend of seven years checked in from the foreign third-world country, Bayndemar, she suddenly vanished without a trace. That same night, I received a video from her phone. In the footage, a man wielding an electric baton sneered at the camera. "Bring five million dollars to the compound if you want her back alive." Beside him, my girlfriend's clothes were torn, her body covered in blood. Trembling, she begged through tears, "Ryan! Save me! They promised they'd let me go once the money's paid!" Without hesitation, I went alone. But the moment I landed, I was drugged into unconsciousness. In the end, I was tortured to death. Meanwhile, my girlfriend returned home with one-third of the ransom money and married the student my family had sponsored. When I opened my eyes again, I had returned to the very day she disappeared.

Just as the Garner family teeters on the edge of bankruptcy, Seth Garner's parents come to my doorstep. They beg for a marriage alliance. My father knows I've loved Seth for ten years. So, he pours ten billion into the Garners to save their empire and marries me off to him. On our wedding night, Seth blindfolds me with red silk and takes me again and again with ruthless intensity. A month later, I excitedly bring him the pregnancy report. However, I overhear him at a bar, laughing with his friends. "So, who do you think knocked up Luna?" Laughter erupts. "Seth, don't tell me the child's mine!" "I bet a hundred grand it's his!" That’s when I realize the man in my bed on our wedding night wasn't even Seth. I storm in and demand answers, but he just sneers. "What are you crying for? If your family hadn't threatened me with money and driven Ash away, you think I'd treat you like this? "Let me be clear—the day Ash forgives me is the day I let you go." Dead inside, I ask for a divorce. He responds by threatening me with footage from our wedding night and locking me in the basement. "You're not leaving. You owe Ash, and you'll repay it!" Eight months later, I die in that basement, along with the baby I couldn't deliver. When I open my eyes again, I'm back to the day the Garner family first begs my father for that deal. This time, Seth is the one crying on my wedding day.

When Yelton Group tanked, their CEO and his wife showed up at our door, begging for a marriage alliance. My dad, thinking I was still head-over-heels for Rosie after ten freaking years, threw a million into their sinking ship and signed me up to marry Rosie. Wedding night? She blindfolded me and kept whispering how bad she wanted it. A month later, I tested positive for an STD. Then I caught her bragging to her friends. "Quinn got wrecked by, like, a dozen girls," she laughed. "Wanna guess who gave him the infection?" Her friends were cracking up. "I scouted all the grossest red-light spots," one said. "Each one's got a different flavor." "Just wait," another giggled. "When the symptoms hit hard, we'll know who wins." Rosie added, "Prize money's ready. Soon as we figure it out, she gets paid." That's when it hit me. It wasn't Rosie in bed that night—it was a lineup of strangers she set up. I lost it. Went straight to her, demanded answers. She didn't even flinch. "Mad? Please. If you hadn't dangled that million to force me into this marriage—or scared Caleb off—do you think I'd waste my time on you? "Once Caleb forgives me, you're done." I asked for a divorce. She locked me in the basement. "Chill," she said. "We're still placing bets on who gave you the STD." Six months later, I died down there. Just rotted away. Then I woke up—right back on the day her parents came begging for that deal. Only this time, on the wedding day? She was the one crying.

After ten years studying interior design overseas, I came back to my hometown to do work that mattered to the people who raised me. I offered the full package, from site survey to soft furnishings. The materials were chosen by hand. The price was fair to the bone. The town had just gone through a redevelopment. Everyone was getting new units. With the new family policy, every family wanted a third bedroom too. My business was good. Customers from the next county were driving in. Then a girl just back from a city college kicked open my studio with her phone on a livestream and her neighbors at her shoulder. "This is the dishonest one. Look at her. She has been ripping the village off." "In the city, an eighty-square-meter unit can be done for twenty thousand dollars. She is charging eighty." "That's a sixty-thousand-dollar margin. Sixty thousand. Right out of our pockets." The village fell in line behind her. They demanded the difference back. When I refused, they smashed my studio. They beat me into a coma. The pile-on online killed me. When I opened my eyes again, I knew exactly what I was going to do. I would refund every single one of them. And then I would tear out every single thing I had installed. Let's see what twenty thousand dollars actually buys you.

On the ninth year after our bonding ceremony, my mate, Alpha Kyle Burns, finds himself hopelessly in love with Ivy Cline, an Omega who's taken in as a prisoner of war from a pack that has been conquered by the Silver Moon pack. Ivy is supposed to be a lowly prisoner, and yet she often keeps her head high in an arrogant manner. One time, she kicks the things gifted to her by Kyle into a puddle in front of everyone else. "I might be a prisoner, but I refuse to become a traitor who clings to wolves of power for survival! You can keep your disgusting charity act to yourself!" Those are the exact words that have Kyle wrapped around Ivy's little finger. In order to conquer the wild-spirited Ivy, Kyle personally severs the mind-link that he has maintained with me for the past nine years. He completely disregards the fact that I'm his fated mate as well as the most reverent Luna of the pack. But he most likely has forgotten the blood curse my father, who was also the former Alpha of the pack, asked the witch to place on him. If Kyle and I don't head over to the Moon Goddess' altar to extend our bond once ten years are up, the curse will take effect. That's when the mate bond between us will be completely severed.

After I graduate from college, my uncle, Malcolm Caldwell, convinces my family to chip in and open a seafood restaurant. Dad and I wholeheartedly agree with his suggestion. Since then, we work as the restaurant's cooks. Five years later, our seafood restaurant becomes the top restaurant on the city's Must-Eat List. Our monthly profits hit more than 200 grand. On the day the earnings are to be split among us, Uncle Malcolm pockets 150 grand. Then, he passes 150 grand each to my cousins, Maxwell and Melanie Caldwell. The remaining sum, which is less than eight grand, is handed over to Dad and me. When faced with our questions, Uncle Malcolm adapts a matter-of-fact tone. "Max is in charge of dealing with the customers. He has suffered a lot just by having to deal with so many fussy customers every day. "Mel is the one in charge of the finances. She's worked so hard calculating every cent in the profits that we've earned." Then, Uncle Malcolm turns to look at us. "As for you two, all you do is hide in the kitchen all day. I bet you two have secretly taken many bites out of the customers' food all these years, right? "Since we're relatives and all, I shall not hold you accountable. How about this? If you two work hard, I'll make sure to reward you well if our profits double again next month." Dad is so furious that he's practically shaking. But I just hold his hand calmly and accept the money. "Fine. You can split up the shares however you want, Uncle Malcolm. I'm fine with it." Soon, they will realize that Dad and I are the actual profit generators, not them.

On Christmas Eve, my six-year-old, Yule, was dying from cancer, and all he wanted was a gift from his dad dressed as Santa. I called Peter, my husband, begging him to come. His reply? "Can you stop blowing up my phone? I don't have time for this! I'm helping Tracey find Puffy. Do you know how upset she is?" Oh, Tracey. His first love. And Puffy? Her dog. I told him Yule might not make it through the night. His response? A straight-up dagger: "Don't act like this isn't your fault, Freya. If Yule hadn't kicked Puffy, none of this would've happened. Tomorrow, make sure he apologizes to Tracey." Then he hung up. That night, I sat with Yule, crying as I helped him celebrate his last Christmas. By morning, Peter's social medias were still full of posts about that freaking dog. Mine? Yule's obituary. Ten years of marriage, gone.

I pushed the door open and saw Giovanna standing there in my silk robe—my gift from Enzo—and wearing my heirloom pendant. She lifted a brow and mocked me, “The robe fits, the pendant’s mine, and you—get out.” I grabbed Enzo, demanding an explanation, but he shoved a fake contract in my face, saying, “You signed it.” “I did not. Stop lying!” I snapped. He snapped at me, “This is family business. You know nothing.” It seemed three years together was nothing but an act. That very night, I ran away to Milan. I had nowhere to go and no one to turn to until Mark showed up out of nowhere. “Don’t be scared,” he said. “I’ve got you. As long as I’m around, no one touches you.” He protected me, and for a moment, I really thought I’d finally found someone I could rely on. However, when we were practicing at the shooting range later, I stared at him. “Why are you helping me?” I asked. “And don’t tell me it’s because of that mess I left behind.” His eyes flickered for a second before he answered, “Just trust me. That’s all you need to do.” Something about the way he said it made my stomach twist. This whole disaster was all one giant setup. And now here I am, gripping a gun, fighting for justice, but am I really avenging myself? Or was I already someone else’s pawn from the very beginning?

I was the princess sent over by the Werewolf Kingdom for an arranged marriage. I was also meant to be the blood bag of Count Dracula. In my past life, I helped him rule the Bloodsucking Empire. I willingly allowed him to drain my werewolf blood and even risked a dangerous pregnancy by having a baby of mixed bloodline. However, all Dracula did was watch his frail childhood crush dig out the baby from my body to save her life. It was only before I died that I realized he had never loved me. All I was to him was a mobile blood bank. When I opened my eyes again, I had returned to the Blood Moon Party when I was five months pregnant. Dracula raised the knife with silver blade in his hand. "Be good. All I need is some blood to save Anna." This time, I did not fight back as I did in my previous life. Dracula mistook it for obedience. He had no idea that the Werewolf Princess who had once loved him with her life had become mates with the highly aggressive Alpha King of the Werewolf Kingdom.

On the day I'm due for my labor, Chad Nelson's first love, Lucy Baker, who's diagnosed with depression, barges into the maternity ward. Without warning, she plunges the knife she's holding into my belly. By the time Chad and the medical team arrive at the ward, I'm already lying in a pool of my own blood on the bed. The machine recording my vitals keeps screeching loudly the whole time. But Chad crouches down next to Lucy, who has gotten shoved to the floor by a nurse earlier. It seems that her elbow has suffered from light abrasions. "Dr. Nelson, your spouse is in critical condition. She needs to undergo a surgery immediately!" Chad raises his head to glance at me. His tone is cool and professional. "None of Caitlin's vital organs are hurt by the stab, so she can still endure the pain for now. Lucy, on the other and, has a coagulation disorder. Even though she has only suffered from abrasions, there's a chance that her blood flow can't be staunched at all. This makes her situation more critical than Caitlin's. "Anyway, give the two bags of blood in the blood bank to Lucy." When I get pushed away, I use all of my strength to grip Chad's white coat tightly. He just frowns at me in return. "Lucy didn't do this on purpose. Her depression has gotten triggered, that's all. Since you're a woman of medicine, you should be more empathetic toward the patient." After that, Chad digs out a letter of forgiveness from his pocket that he has already printed out in advance.