Soul Survivor: Building Hope From Hell

Soul Survivor: Building Hope From Hell

Gavin

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The air around me reeked of gasoline, a sharp tang that somehow mixed with the familiar scent of ancient leather from my family' s priceless library. My phone buzzed, Maria's name flashing on the screen, but I ignored it, focused on the tiny, dancing flame of the lighter in my hand. Then came her text: "Jocelyn, what the HELL are you doing?! The staff is freaking out! They said you have gasoline! Are you insane? I'm calling the police to have you committed!" Insane. That' s what they' d label me. A cold smile touched my lips. Let them. They had no idea what was coming. Seven days from now, "The Veiling" would tear our world apart, merging it with a nightmarish spirit realm. I knew this because I had already lived through it. And died in it. The last time, I was naive, trusting my best friend, Maria, and my boyfriend, Ethan. I shared my meticulously prepared sanctuary, gave them everything. They rewarded me by pushing me outside to a monster. They feasted on my supplies, while I, disfigured and broken, became their pet. Then, they tortured me, sacrificing my very life force to empower their stolen haven, watching with triumphant glee as my world went dark. I died believing I was utterly alone, used, and discarded. I died wondering how those I trusted most could become such monsters. But I came back. Reborn. And this time, I remembered everything. This time, their twisted game was just the first step in my ultimate revenge.

Introduction

The air around me reeked of gasoline, a sharp tang that somehow mixed with the familiar scent of ancient leather from my family' s priceless library. My phone buzzed, Maria's name flashing on the screen, but I ignored it, focused on the tiny, dancing flame of the lighter in my hand.

Then came her text: "Jocelyn, what the HELL are you doing?! The staff is freaking out! They said you have gasoline! Are you insane? I'm calling the police to have you committed!"

Insane. That' s what they' d label me. A cold smile touched my lips. Let them. They had no idea what was coming.

Seven days from now, "The Veiling" would tear our world apart, merging it with a nightmarish spirit realm. I knew this because I had already lived through it. And died in it.

The last time, I was naive, trusting my best friend, Maria, and my boyfriend, Ethan. I shared my meticulously prepared sanctuary, gave them everything. They rewarded me by pushing me outside to a monster. They feasted on my supplies, while I, disfigured and broken, became their pet. Then, they tortured me, sacrificing my very life force to empower their stolen haven, watching with triumphant glee as my world went dark.

I died believing I was utterly alone, used, and discarded. I died wondering how those I trusted most could become such monsters.

But I came back. Reborn. And this time, I remembered everything. This time, their twisted game was just the first step in my ultimate revenge.

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The Truth About His Mistress

The Truth About His Mistress

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I was four months pregnant, a photographer excited for our future, attending a sophisticated baby brunch. Then I saw him, my husband Michael, with another woman, and a newborn introduced as "his son." My world shattered as a torrent of betrayal washed over me, magnified by Michael's dismissive claim I was "just being emotional." His mistress, Serena, taunted me, revealing Michael had discussed my pregnancy complications with her, then slapped me, causing a terrifying cramp. Michael sided with her, publicly shaming me, demanding I leave "their" party, as a society blog already paraded them as a "picture-perfect family." He fully expected me to return, to accept his double life, telling his friends I was "dramatic" but would "always come back." The audacity, the calculated cruelty of his deception, and Serena's chilling malice, fueled a cold, hard rage I barely recognized. How could I have been so blind, so trusting of the man who gaslighted me for months while building a second family? But on the plush carpet of that lawyer's office, as he turned his back on me, a new, unbreakable resolve solidified. They thought I was broken, disposable, easily manipulated – a "reasonable" wife who would accept a sham separation. They had no idea my calm acceptance was not surrender; it was strategy, a quiet promise to dismantle everything he held dear. I would not be handled; I would not understand; I would end this, and make sure their perfect family charade crumbled into dust.

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