I Need You To Hate Me

“How dare you, a pauper, mock us?” Ava asked, her tone condescending. Damian raised a brow and looked Ava in the eye. “No, Ava. How dare you mock me?” *** After a humiliating rejection and a divorce agreement from his wife, Ava, Damian Giovanni Smith was tossed out in the streets, and mocked by everyone around him, leaving him with nothing. And Ava? She was engaged to the rumored heir of the highest-ranking family in the country, Carson Ferremento. As Damian thought that his life had already ended, suddenly, a man in a suit approached him. “You're the real heir of the Ferremento family, and I will help you reclaim your power, young master.” With the sudden wealth and power at his fingertips, how would a fallen son-in-law like him retaliate?

Betrayed by his trusted General and a Vice President revealed as a traitor, Project Agent Gabriel Jones of the US Army found himself marooned in a world of fantasy. As he clutched his voice message terminal, the President's final words crackled through: "Gabriel, it's over! They've taken the White House. If you're still out there, for God's sake, get back here! We need you!" Can he fight his way through this alien nightmare and return to a shattered America, or will he perish in the grip of this new world?

I narrowed my eyes at him and caught glimpse of a guy, standing in a corner and what’s weird is that he wasn’t dancing. He seemed different and odd for all this. He’s looking in my direction, very still and I can see him intermittently. The hat makes it harder to discern. Except for the creepy, fiendish smile, raising the edges of his mouth real slowly. I squinted my eyes at him. He tugged his hat from the right, an expression of a muted Hi! I nodded reflexively and opened my mouth to call Frank, who was busy with stuffing ice cubes in two glasses of beer. “Hey!” I called with my hurting head. “What?” he asked the glasses. “Who’s that? Someone new?” I pointed at him. Frank gave up the stuffing and looked in his direction. “Haven’t seen him before” he said with confusion. . . . Elijah Heath, an eighteen year old teenager was stalked by someone. Read to know who was he? And what made him behave this strangely. Does someone REALLY follows her? Or she's hallucinating like others say? . . . "Is someone there?", I moped around the dim-litted living room. "Guess it's just me. I'm making excuses to cease. No, Elijah! You have to finish this up!". As I ascended three steps, I realized a change in the air pressure around me, an odd creak and a clear presence of heat_ behind me. My breath abated. Just as I plucked the nerve to turn, my ankle was grasped and I slided down as some hand pulled me. My knees rubbed along the hard steps. **Caution**: Contains extremely disturbing content. Read only if you can stand murder and blood descriptions else you might feel nauseous.

“How dare you think you’ll walk in here and win?” Alex told him, his eyes where blood red and Smokey. “I will not let this slide you definitely look like someone that would be an issue with time.” “Urghh!!!” Leonard could barely speak, as he groaned in pain and crawled on the ground. Leonard slid his phone slowly out of his pocket and dialed the first number there… it happened to be Emily. “Hello…” his voice was low and weak. “Hey Leo, what’s up?” “help me!” “What’s wrong?” She asked him. “Arghhhh,” Leonard groaned in so much pain, before the call went silent. Alex had stabbed him through his heart.

“Look at this cockroach!” Johnson sneered, pacing around Max like a predator sizing up his prey. “You think you can fight me? You’ve been scurrying in the dirt your whole life!” Laughter erupted from the crowd. “He’s about to get squashed!” someone shouted. “Yeah, show him who’s boss, Johnson!” another chimed in. Johnson flexed his arms dramatically, turning to the crowd. “This rat thinks he’s a lion now, huh?” he spat, pointing at Max. “But all I see is a mangy stray dog, begging for scraps!” The crowd whooped and hollered, eagerly anticipating the fight. “You’re nothing but a street mutt,” Johnson continued, his voice brimming with arrogance. “I’ve trained with the best, and you? You’ve been running from garbage collectors your whole life!” Max stepped forward, his gaze steady, though his heart raced. “You talk too much,” he muttered, squaring his shoulders. “Let’s just get this over with.” Max was dumped by his girlfriend, just because he was poor.But his life turned upside down when at police station, he gets to know that he is not a common man, but a trillionaire heir .

"A coffin?" Alex mocked, his laughter echoing through the hall. "For me? You should’ve brought one for yourself, lunatic."Alex Carter’s cruel smirk wiped clean with a blade to Charles Carter’s screams as he loses more than just his pride, Jack is a man on a mission."You laughed at me when I was down," Jack says, his voice calm but cold. "But now, you’ll remember my name—for the rest of your short lives."Once, Jack Sullivan was a name whispered with respect and fear—the legendary commander of the Iron Wolf Battalion. But a devastating betrayal left him broken, his memories shattered, and his enemies triumphant. Reduced to a mentally impaired shell of himself, Jack became a laughingstock, mocked by his in-laws and dismissed by the powerful elites of Havenwood. "They called him a fool, a servant, a man broken beyond repair. Now, they’ll call him their worst nightmare." But Jack isn’t a fool anymore. His memories have returned, and so has his unrelenting thirst for justice.

Samantha stood before Michael, her tear-filled eyes pleading for his forgiveness desperately. "Michael, please, I beg you to forgive me," she cried out, her voice trembling. However, instead of the warm embrace or reassurance, Michael's face twisted with anger and malice, his voice dripping with venom. "No, Samantha," he retorted sharply. "The time for apologies is long gone. Now, it's time for revenge. You will pay for what you did." *** Michael Ventura, mistreated, insulted, and despised by all, now possesses special abilities and intends to use them effectively. He will stop at nothing to bring everyone who looked down on him to their knees before him and exact revenge upon them.

“So this is what you really want, Jasmine?” he asked, his voice calm yet laced with an undercurrent of disappointment. “After everything?” She crossed her arms, her expression hardening. “Let’s not pretend there was ever an ‘everything’ between us. You don’t get to guilt me, Ethan. I’ve been miserable, living with a man who has no drive, no ambition. I’ve wasted enough time.” Ethan’s mouth tightened, but he stayed silent, letting her words sink in. She’d always seen him as a failure, the quiet husband who blended into the background. And now, with the prospect of a new life on the horizon, she was willing to cast him aside without hesitation. In that moment, Ethan felt something within him shift—a quiet yet powerful resolve. She had no idea who he was, what he had done for her, and the lengths he had gone to support her dreams while sacrificing his own. The weight of his hidden life, his secrets, his true identity, all of it bore down on him, but he remained silent. He calmly reached for a pen, signing his name with a steady hand. As he finished, he pushed the papers back to her, his eyes meeting hers with a new intensity. “You’ll get what you want, Jasmine,” he said quietly, each word filled with a weight she couldn’t quite decipher. “But I want you to remember this moment.” She blinked, confused, perhaps even a little unnerved by his composed demeanor. “Remember it? What are you talking about?”

Well, like any other virus affecting the world, this one came all too sudden and with little control. Early morning on Monday, I prepared my son Javi to go to school. I packed his lunch, water, and breakfast for the whole day. It has been a routine for years that it only takes me an hour or so. At exactly 6:30 am, I led my son to board the school Van to go to school. I said hi to the school driver and the teacher on duty before going back into the house. I had so many things to do. I was done with laundry and heading to the kitchen when I heard shouting's from outside. We live on the third floor, room number 205. My husband worked at a research facility. For the last few days, he had been busy and had little time to spend with us. Which is normal regarding his line of work. Saving people's lives I rushed to the balcony to see what was happening, and I was stunned. People were attacking each other. It was weird. When two people attack each other, then it may be normal. When a whole lot of people attack and bite each other, then it's something else. My neighbor was also on the balcony looking outside. "What's happening?" I curiously asked the neighbor Before she could answer me, her husband came rushing to her and bit her on her neck. I was shocked and shouted at them. "What are you doing? Let her be?" He could not hear me.

I was a disgrace to the Prestwick family—a poor, unwanted son-in-law they wished their daughter had never married. She had chosen me for my looks, but now, even that wasn’t enough. She wanted out. A divorce. To erase me from her life and marry into wealth like her family had always intended. But I loved her. Despite the insults, the humiliation, the way they treated me like dirt beneath their feet—I refused to let go. That was my biggest mistake. Frustrated by my defiance, my brother-in-law took matters into his own hands. He killed me, tossing my body into a cold, dark river, leaving me to sink into oblivion. I should have died. I did die. But before I took my final breath, a man appeared before me, cloaked in shadow, his voice like a whisper from the abyss. "What is your last wish?" I should have begged for revenge. I should have cursed their names. But all I wanted was one more chance. One more chance to live. And so, I was granted life again. But I was no longer the same. My soul was no longer my own. My body was no longer mine to control. Because I had been reborn as something far more powerful. I was no longer John Prestwick. I was the Devil himself.