Torture Twists Novels & Stories

For as long as I can remember, my parents have been crying about how poor we are. In order to put food on the table, I dare not apply for a prestigious university even though I'm more than capable of doing so. Instead, I work several jobs per day just to pay the bills, hoping to lighten the financial burden on my parents' shoulders. What I didn't expect is that my parents actually bought my younger brother, Randall Carter, a 500,000-dollar Ferrari behind my back! It turns out that my so-called impoverished parents are actually millionaires! The reason why they keep in the dark about their wealth is so that I don't fight with Randall over the family wealth! But they've completely forgotten that if it wasn't for me, Randall would've drained their accounts dry a long time ago!

After Ryan Spencer cheated on me again with his secretary, I completely lost it. When my mind started to spiral, I grabbed the fruit knife off the table. I just wanted it to end. “Why are you hurting yourself again? He doesn’t love you anymore?” I looked up. The sixteen-year-old Ryan was walking toward me, heartbreak written all over his face. His voice was gentle. “Tell me who he is. I’ll make him pay.” I stared into the bright, earnest eyes of the boy standing in front of me. I didn’t say a word. I simply lifted my hand and pointed at his face. Later, Ryan was the one who had me admitted to a psychiatric hospital. When the sedative began to wear off, the teenage boy appeared again, sitting by my bed. He stared at the man outside who looked just like him. The light in his eyes faded little by little. Then he spoke, his voice strained. “I don’t care who he is. I’ll kill him.” The sixteen-year-old Ryan never lied to me. When he said something, he meant it.

Ten years of marriage, and my husband slid the divorce papers across his mahogany desk. "You contributed nothing to this family. Under the prenup, you walk away with nothing." "Consider this a courtesy. Ten thousand a year. A hundred grand for a decade of your youth." "Don't even think about touching a cent of family money." I smiled and signed. I'm the kind of woman who's already died once. The next day, I took that hundred-thousand-dollar check and walked straight into the territory of his most dangerous enemy—Dominic Salucci. The man who controls half the East Coast underworld looked at me like I was inventory he hadn't ordered. "Why should I help you?" I leaned in close. "Because I know every decision Vincent Moretti is going to make for the next ten years. Every property. Every shipping route. And I know about the son he's hiding in Zurich." He studied me for a long moment. Then he smiled. "Interesting." What he doesn't know—what Vincent doesn't know—is that in my last life, men like them buried me without a second thought. This time, I'm going to watch every last one of them kneel.

When Mom and Dad went broke—$30K in debt—they let collectors sell me to Nyamara, a lawless border strip full of trafficking, forced labor, and private prisons. I slept in flooded cells. Ate rotten food. Tried to run. They smashed both my legs with iron rods. I dragged myself home—and walked in on them planning Nina's sweet eighteen. Dad flicked his hand and dropped $3 million on a top-tier jewelry set for her. Mom smiled, then mentioned me. "I heard Talia cries every day, begging to come home. When do we tell her the truth and bring her back?" Dad shook his head, smug. "What's the rush? This is her gift. Let her tough it out one more month. Otherwise, how's she supposed to inherit our billions?" I tightened my grip on the medical report—severe infection in both legs. Mom. Dad. I don't even have a month left.

It was the climactic moment of my game, but the enemy's flash bang blinded me. After I reopened my eyes, I found myself in the world of the post-apocalyptic underdog comeback story I'd ranted about to my friend the day before. No, I wasn't the protagonist with a cheat for a system. Instead, I was the cannon fodder who suffered the worst fate. He also had my name. I found myself locked outside the armored vehicle while a swarm of high-level zombies had surrounded me. 'Blast,' I thought. 'All this just because I flamed them? And I just made a pentakill after my 8-win streak!' I told myself to calm down and let my mind do its work, but then the laughter of this body's wife echoed from the walkie-talkie. "Stop covering for him, gunners! We're livestreaming to the whole camp. My husband's going to rip these Tier Six zombies to shreds!" Then, the woman's useless male best friend buzzed with excitement. "I'll have a permanent spot in the inner city if he distracts the horde and they rip him apart in the process, babe!" If this went the way of the original story, I'd beg for help only to get no answer and be ripped apart by the zombies. Fortunately, I wasn't the same coward this guy used to be. The woman kept egging me on. I sneered. I didn't spend years playing competitive games for nothing. And so, I grabbed a high-frequency concussion grenade that could get the attention of every single zombie in a 3-mile radius, smashed the ventilation valve of the armored vehicle, and hurled the grenade inside.

I've chosen to participate in a death game. As long as I can escape from the murderer's killing spree in ten time loops, I'll be able to win at least 100 billion dollars. In the first loop, I have my apartment refurbished into a bank vault. Still, the killer is able to bust down my front door. In the second loop, I hide in the ceiling crawlspace. Yet, the killer is quick to locate me immediately, as though he knew where I was, to begin with. In the third loop, I finally realize that something's definitely fishy…

It had been the fifth year of my marriage, and I was about to reveal everything to my husband after pretending to be poor for so long. However, his childhood sweetheart had just returned from studying abroad. With a cruel smile, my mother-in-law sneered, "Claire and Thomas are a much better match. "Not like some trash who isn't even fit to show up in public." She and my sister-in-law had waited for the perfect moment, drugging me and teaming up with the childhood sweetheart to accuse me of being a mistress. The result? I had lost my baby. In a single night, I had lost everything. The position as a vice president of a major company, our lakeside mansion, the limited-edition sports cars... I would make sure it was all gone! I would make them beg for my mercy. I would make sure they came crawling on their knees!

I have spent ten years fighting against the fake heiress, Cynthia Powell, to secure the Powell family's inheritance. Eventually, we both set our sights on the eldest son of the wealthy Wright family, Robin Wright. In my first life, I secure the marriage, but on the very night the shares are transferred to my name, I die a gruesome death. Blood seeps from my eyes and mouth as I collapse. As I lie there dying, Robin calmly wipes the poisonous powder from his fingertips and smiles at me. "My apologies, Kathy Powell. You have to die for the sake of the woman I truly love." I repeatedly curse Cynthia in my heart. In my second life, I am determined to avoid being murdered by Cynthia and her lover. So, I pass the marriage opportunity over to Cynthia. On their wedding day, I'm relaxing at home with a face mask when the police burst through my door and handcuff me. "Cynthia's car was firebombed on the way to the wedding ceremony, and she was burned to a crisp. We found your fingerprints on the fuel tank. You're under arrest for arson and murder. Please come with us," the police orders. The news shocks me. I'm sentenced to death, all thanks to Robin's manipulation. When I wake up, I'm in my third life. After seeing the Wright family's marriage proposal on the table, Cynthia and I take a step back. A chill runs down both our spines. Robin is a curse. How is it that whoever marries him ends up dead?

My brother was a twisted, paranoid psychopath. When I was ten, my parents were murdered. Both my legs broke off while I tried to save my brother. I became his only family and also Achilles’ heel. Those who mocked me as a crippled would have their bones broken, and anyone who tried to hurt me would be smashed into a pulp. As he reclaimed our family’s fortune, he became “the Devil” in Amberwater, a man no one dared to offend. Yet, he alone spoiled me like I was a little princess. Everyone knew that Lucas’s sister was untouchable. He had sent me abroad to receive the best treatment. The day that I could finally stand up again, I received an invitation to my brother’s engagement banquet. “Veronica, we’re going to have a new family member soon.” I heard that his fiancee was the daughter of a wealthy family. She was gentle and virtuous. I dressed beautifully to meet her and planned to give her the jade bracelet that my mother had left behind. However, she had me kidnapped and taken to an abandoned construction building. “You lowly little witch. I’ll rip that face of yours since you’re such a seductress. I’ll see how you’ll steal my man now!” She crushed my mother’s heirloom, broke all my limbs, and ripped my face off. Then, she ordered a dozen men to torment me to death. In the end, she stuffed me into a gift box and sent it to my brother. “Dearest, this is your wedding gift. Do you like it?”

My mother-in-law spreads lies about me having contracted an STD during my sister-in-law's wedding. When I hear this, I want to demand an explanation. However, my sister-in-law stops me and begs me to prioritize her happiness since it's her wedding. I hold myself back and wait until the reception is over. Later, my mother-in-law merely sweeps the matter under the rug and say she doesn't remember anything because she was drunk. However, the lies spread like wildfire. My neighbors scorn me, and my colleagues isolate me, treating me like a walking bacteria. I become dispirited from the constant mental distress and end up getting knocked by a car when I leave the house one day. I die from the accident. When I open my eyes again, I'm taken back to the day my mother-in-law lies about me having contracted an STD.