Wildest Imagination Novels & Stories

I was reborn before I signed up for a scientific expedition tour to the South Pole. My boyfriend’s adopted younger sister used a system to forcefully exchange my physical senses with hers. She deliberately went out to do something good on a day with a temperature of 107.6 °F, like delivering water to the outdoor workers. On the other hand, I got so hot in a 60.8 °F air-conditioned room that I fainted from heat stroke. I begged Wendy Little to stop, but she feigned innocence. “You must make a good excuse if you want to lie like that!” Max Little sounded disdainful. “How selfish! You’re quite lucky to enjoy yourself in air-conditioned rooms every day. You can’t tolerate Wendy doing something kind.” Wendy took her time and basked in the sun for a month outside. People took photos of her and put them on the internet. Countless netizens were moved by her. But I died from heat stroke in an air-conditioned room. Nobody even found my corpse. If that was how it was, I wanted her to enjoy the coolness of -184 °F in the South Pole.

My husband Norman had always hated how his childhood friend Julia clung to him no matter the occasion. He even cut her off for my sake. One morning, I woke up and realized that I had mysteriously swapped bodies with Julia. I wanted to find my husband and figure out what to do, fearing he'd turn me away because of Julia's appearance. I cooked up a hundred explanations in my head until I finally arrived at our home. When Norman opened the door and saw me, he frowned and quickly shut the door, pushing me away. Just as I was about to explain that I wasn't Julia, he suddenly pulled me into his arms. "What are you doing here? Can't stand being apart from me for even two days, huh?"

Midnight. I heard a faint meowing through the window. I was about to have a look when floating words appeared in front of me. [Don't open the window! There isn't a cat outside! It's a serial killer!] [I'm done. How could the side character be so dumb? I can already imagine how tragic her death will be.] [Go and find the villain! He loves you so much! He will surely protect you!] I quickly retracted my hand on the window latch…

To cure my half-sister's illness, my brother took my beast bone—all because I was a half-beast and had a strong self-healing ability. Later, to make me suffer in her place, the tiger beast servant I had cared for joined forces with my brother and sent me straight into the Beast Den. The tiger said I didn't deserve to be his master, and the one he wanted to protect was my sister. In the end, I was tortured and died a terrible death. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the very day I had to choose my beast servant.

Seven years ago, my husband, the King of the Humans, banished me to the Everfrost Plains, where my life came to a tragic end. Seven years later, a grave illness befalls the Queen of the Humans, and blood spills endlessly from her lips. The clerics claim that I have cursed her. Only the blood taken from my heart can cure her fully. Gareth Lancaster, my former husband, comforts his new wife, the queen, and says, "You have nothing to fear. To think she's still trying to harm you, her older sister, even when she has been exiled! "I'll march to the Everfrost Plains right away and carve her heart out to use as your cure. Then, I'll have her soul sent to hell to suffer in torment for all eternity." Sword in hand, Gareth heads to the Everfrost Plains. He finds a Serpentkin, one who should've died in the Great War of the Beasts and Men seven years ago. The Serpentkin has frozen solid, standing before my grave with his hands clasped together as if in prayer. In front of my grave sits a young girl. She says, "You won't be able to take my mother's heart. She died many years ago. I stayed here to let the truth be known to all…"

Dario Morello came from old money in Santria City—but his family was cursed. Every guy in that bloodline dropped dead before twenty-five, like something sucked the life out of them. The only way out? Marry someone with a rare fertility gene. In my last life, my adopted sister Serena jacked my wedding dress and took my place at the altar. I exposed her right there in front of everyone. She became Santria's biggest joke. Then she killed herself. My parents said I was heartless. Cut me off without blinking. Dario? He hated me too. On the anniversary of Serena's death, he locked me in a basement, strapped me with explosives, and snapped, "That fertility gene lie? You made it up for clout and cash. Serena was pregnant with my kid. You killed them both. So now—you're going with her." Next thing I knew, I was waking up on the morning of the wedding. This time? I helped Serena with the veil and wished them a perfect life.

After the Great War between humans and the Shifter races, an accord was struck, decreeing that the world would be ruled by a hybrid of the two races. The most powerful human family, a corporate dynasty, was granted the right to the first union with a Shifter leader. Whoever bore the first hybrid child would become the next ruler of the Alliance. In my past life, I married the werewolf Alpha, Jacob, and quickly bore him a wolf-human hybrid. When our son became the ruler of the Alliance, the werewolf clan’s power and influence soared. But my sister, Isabella, had always favored the beautiful elves. Her husband's philandering left her barren and riddled with disease after several miscarriages. She envied everything I had. In her rage, she orchestrated the car crash that killed my son and me. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day of the Alliance’s choosing ceremony. Isabella had already mated with Jacob, brazenly showing off the mark on her neck. I knew. She was back, too. What she didn't know was that Jacob was a madman, obsessed with his bloodline above all else. Without a second thought, I let her have him. I walked toward the one they all feared—the notoriously brutal and bloodthirsty Dragon Lord, the Dragon King, Damien Wyatt.

The day I was supposed to win the biggest award of my career, I walked in on my boyfriend, Ethan, in bed with another woman. He sneered, calling me a face-blind, scent-deaf bore in bed. I planned to expose his ass at the award ceremony. Instead, he and his lover mowed me down with their car. Next thing I knew, I woke up with them in an S-class horror survival game. Mortality rate: over 95%. We had to survive ten days in a haunted manor to be revived. Hit 100 on your Anxiety Level, and your soul is obliterated. Chloe, Ethan's lover, sneered. "Sensory defects? You can't recognize ghosts or smell danger. In a horror game, that’s a death sentence. You might as well just die." The others heard her and scrambled to team up. Me? I walked straight into the lair of the manor's final boss. The most powerful demon in the game wanted to devour my soul. I couldn't really see him. I just thought he was a cosplayer. I lunged forward, poked his abs, and pointed at the glowing crack in his chest. "Wow, you're really committed to the role. This getup must've cost a fortune."

My friend and I transmigrated into a melodramatic novel about a wealthy family. When the mission ended, I chose to leave. He fell for the obsessive female lead and chose to stay with her. Eight years later, the system told me that she had locked him in a mental hospital, and he had only three days left to live. When I rushed to him, he was tied to the bed. His eyes were dull, and he kept repeating my name. His crush, Sterling Group's CEO, was planning a grand wedding with the man she truly loved. I looked at my friend’s hands. They had once played the piano with grace. This time, they were covered in countless needle marks. “You came, I knew you would...” He mustered the last of his strength to look at me. “I was a fool. I thought staying by her side was the truest form of my love for her. “I never realized I was only a stepping stone in her path. “Take me home. I don’t want to die here...”

Every day, my son and husband finish all the house chores before I even get home. But only because they're bringing my husband's first love, Sally Sullivan, back for Thanksgiving, I pour boiling water on my son's face. I also kick both my son and husband out when it's 104°F outside. Desperate to save our son, my husband sprawls across the front porch, begging me to open the door. "Wanda, open the door! We need to save our son! I only invited Sally over because she saved you once back then. I didn't mean anything else by it!" "Mom, it hurts!" my son cries. "Mom, can't you kiss me? Mom…" Meanwhile, I'm slouching on the couch, snacking away as I watch TV. In the end, my husband can't take it anymore and brings me to the Bad Mom Court for trial. The moment my memories are extracted, the entire court bursts into tears.