Bias Karma Short Stories & Novels

My parents always said the world had no sympathy for the weak. So from the moment my younger brother and I could walk, they put us through what they called the 'Strong Child Program.' At five years old, we had to run five kilometers every day. If we could not finish, we were not allowed to eat. At seven, my brother broke his arm. My parents refused to let the doctors use anesthesia, saying enduring pain was a lesson every strong person had to learn. At nine, I burned with a 104℉ fever. Instead of taking me to the hospital, they wiped my body with ice water and forced me to endure it because 'sick children grow stronger immunity.' Then, on the first day of summer vacation, my father announced this year's special training: We were going to learn to swim in the Roaring Spine River. No life jackets. No safety gear. "You only learn after choking on water a few times," my father said. But my brother choked over a hundred times and still could not swim. I desperately swam toward him, trying to pull him back to shore, but somehow the distance between us only kept growing. I called my father, screaming for help, begging him to call emergency services. But after listening to me, he only snorted coldly. "Who learns swimming without swallowing some water? "Your brother isn't made of paper. "Stop yelling and focus on learning to swim." But by then, my brother had already been swept away by the current…

Five years after my parents, Ian Smith and Sophia Wright, get divorced, I run into Dad at school. He has just finished attending a parent-teacher conference for his stepson, Eugene Moore, who ranks first in the grade, and he's beaming with pride. The moment he spots me, his expression instantly darkens. "Is this what you usually wear to school? Is this how your mother is raising you?" He hands me his business card, his tone dripping with condescension. "Here, take it. Tell your mother that if she's willing to swallow her pride and admit she was wrong, I'll transfer you into the international class right away. In any case, it's better than rotting away in the regular class." I don't take it. In fact, I simply take a step back. "That won't be necessary, Mr. Smith." His brows draw together, his eyes filled with disgust. "You really are just like your mother—a lost cause. From now on, don't tell anyone you're my daughter." I tighten my grip on the paper in my hand and calmly watch him leave. He has no idea that this isn't a report card. It's my withdrawal application, because since Mom died, there's no one left to pay my tuition.

It's my wedding day. However, Julian Lancaster shoves me aside when he receives a call from Vivienne Hayes. "I'm sorry, honey. Vivi has an upset stomach—I need to bring her some medication for that."

Camden Price's true love, Lynn Gardner, died on my surgery table. Unexpectedly, the malicious Camden chose to protect me from backlash and even proposed to me. He treated me extraordinarily well after we got married. Camden would take me to taste the hottest chili. We would sign up for the most death-defying activities like bungee jumping. When it was late at night, he would take me to the rowdiest and most dangerous bars to drink our hearts away. All this led to me contracting stomach cancer. During my late-stage cancer, I found the diary he left at home. Everything he did with me was what Lynn wanted to do with him. On the last page of his diary, he wrote hatefully, "She deserves to die." I did die. I died after Lynn was found alive. She had faked her death. I died on the day Lynn was marrying another man. You should be happy now, Camden.

A week before my parents' sixteenth wedding anniversary, my dad gave my mom a diamond necklace worth over two hundred thousand dollars. Instead, I immediately fastened it around the neck of my flamboyant classmate. Because in my previous life, three days after my mom put on that necklace, she became a completely different person. The way she looked at me turned cold and distant. She flew into rages over the smallest things, throwing objects and calling me a worthless burden. One day, I casually complained about her best friend, Vanessa Moore, and she slapped me hard across the face. Then, late one night, I passed my parents' bedroom on my way to the bathroom and overheard a conversation inside. That was when I learned the diamond necklace was cursed. It could swap my mother's soul with Vanessa's. I called the police immediately. Instead, they insisted I was mentally ill and forced me into a psychiatric hospital. I endured endless abuse and humiliation there before dying a miserable death. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day my dad gave my mom the necklace.

The day my rich parents come to claim me, all eight of my godfathers weep while sending me off. But just two days later, because I score a whole hundred points higher than the fake heiress, Sharon Staton, on a mock exam, my parents drag me to some black-market underground hospital. They want to dig out my brain and transplant it into Sharon. "With your return, Sharon is no longer the only princess in our family. Giving her your smart brain is the least you can do to make it up to her." "Relax, we'll have them put an ordinary brain in you afterward. We'll care for you for the rest of your life!" Sharon giggles and says, "I'll let you in on a little secret. I already bribed the doctor. The brain they're putting in you belongs to an idiot. You're done for." I struggle with everything I have. Then, the second I'm dragged out of the car, I can't help feeling amused. Isn't this the hospital owned by my eight godfathers? When I left home, Big Pops, a CEO, had looked at me with bloodshot eyes. He'd told me that if the Stanton family so much as laid a finger on me, he would bankrupt them without hesitation. Second Pops, a surgeon, hadn't said a word. He had just quietly wiped down his scalpel. This time, it looks like Sharon and my parents won't be walking out of here alive.

I sold my $3,500 top-spec laptop for scrap for seventy dollars. In my last life, my roommate Caleb's laptop crashed right before his senior thesis deadline. "Noah, the submission portal is about to close. Please lend me your laptop!" I agreed without hesitation. Then he forgot to save his work, downloaded malware by mistake, lost his entire thesis, and had to repeat the year. Afterward, his parents and relatives stormed the university, accusing me of sabotaging his laptop because I was jealous of his graduate admission slot. The story blew up online. Everyone called me a vicious, scheming college guy. My father tried to clear my name and was beaten to death by extremists who thought they were defending justice. Because of that stain, every job search collapsed. In the end, I jumped from a building in despair. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the eve of graduation defense. I had just sold the laptop cheap when Caleb came running in, covering his face and crying. "Noah, my laptop died. Lend me yours!" I kept playing on my phone without looking up. "If you're writing your thesis, go use the computer lab. Why come to me?"

My stepmother—my father's new mate—demanded the code to the safe. The safe that held my mother’s moonstone amulet. I ignored her. I was too busy preparing for the pack's centennial blessing ceremony. Not long after, she sent a second text: "Since you wouldn't reply, I had someone force it open. The stone is way too big, though. I'm having it cut down so it looks good on me." I dropped the candlestick, shifted, and tore off toward home. But I was too late. The moonstone lay shattered in the middle of the living room. Its lunar warmth was gone. Heartbroken, I roared, "That belonged to my mother! How dare you touch it?" Livia lounged on the sofa, lazily filing her nails. She didn't even bother to look up. "I needed a necklace to match my dress for tomorrow. You didn't text back, so I handled it myself. Stop being so dramatic." "Dramatic? Do you know what that was? It wasn't just my mother's, it was—" Boom. Alpha aura slammed into me like a mountain. My legs gave out instantly. My father—Marcus, the Alpha of our pack—stood before me. His golden wolf eyes shrank with fury. "Your mother has been dead for twenty years! Why do you keep bringing her up just to upset Livia? Show some respect to your Luna!" I stared at them, fighting the agony tearing through my wolf. Livia let out a bored yawn. My father shot me a look of pure disgust. Hands shaking, I let out a cold laugh. They had no idea. That amulet wasn't just my mother's legacy. It was the pack’s only conduit to the Moon Goddess for the centennial ceremony. Without it, the entire pack was doomed.

At the Silverpine Pack's annual winter market, Dad bought a Christmas chocolate bar for Chloe and one for me. I accepted mine happily, but Chloe burst into tears. "Why does she get the same thing as me? Ever since she came along, I haven't been your only baby anymore!" Mom immediately took the chocolate bar from my hand. "Chloe can have this one too. You can eat something else later." But I wanted a chocolate bar too. Dad had bought that one for me. I started crying, and Mom suddenly lost her temper. "You've already taken half of your sister's love away from her. Now you can't even let her have one chocolate bar? You're already competing with her for attention at your age. Who knows how selfish you'll become when you grow up?" Frightened, I stopped crying and grabbed the hem of her coat. "Please don't be mad, Mommy. Ella won't eat it." Mom stared at me for a few seconds, but her expression only grew darker. She returned to the stall, bought an entire box of chocolate bars, and shoved it into my arms. "You wanted chocolate, didn't you? Sit here and finish every one of them. You're not allowed to leave until the box is empty." With that, she took Chloe's hand and walked away. Dad did not follow them immediately. He crouched in front of me and stroked my hair, looking uncomfortable. "Stay right here and be good, Ella. Once Mommy calms down, Daddy will come back for you." I unwrapped one bar, then another. The chocolate was so sweet that it began to taste bitter. I had just picked up the fifth chocolate bar when a piercing fire alarm rang through the mall. People screamed and rushed toward the exits. I stayed on the bench. Instead of running with them, I ate faster. Mom had told me I could not leave until I finished everything. I could not make her angry again.

I died on the day I won the Global Medical Doctorate Award. Fresh from celebrating the sixteenth birthday of my younger sister, my parents, brother, and my fiancé finally returned home, but it was three hours after my death. My family photos were beaming with happiness on social media, while I laid in the suffocating basement drenched in blood. Before I died, I had struggled to slide my tongue across my phone screen in a desperate attempt to call for help. My parents and brother had blocked my number. Only my fiancé answered my call. The moment his voice came through, he snapped, "Winona, Winnie's sixteenth birthday is important. Stop trying to hijack attention with your pathetic excuses. Enough with the theatrics!" It murdered my last spark of survival. In that electronic death rattle, my heart flatlined. The 100th time they chose her. The 100th time they abandoned me for her. But it was also the last time. They thought I had ran way to get their attention again, and that if they taught me a harsh lesson, I would come crawling back pathetically. But not this time. Because I didn't leave home. I had been lying in the basement of my house.

I suffer from a hereditary form of amnesia. By the time I found out, I had only seven days left. On the first day, I found my boyfriend had fallen for my younger twin sister. With a bitter smile, I suggested we break up. On the second day, my most treasured Lego set was smashed by my sister. Everyone laughed at me, saying I was disgraceful, unworthy of being a daughter of the Fleming family. On the fourth day, I forgot that my sister was allergic to mangoes. She ended up in the hospital, and my parents glared at me with resentment. Even my ex-boyfriend accused me of being heartless. On the seventh day, I woke up in a hospital bed to see my father walking in with a stern expression. He demanded that I quit my job and devote myself entirely to taking care of the family, as nothing more than a housekeeper. But I only looked at them in confusion and asked softly, “Who are you?” When they realized I had truly lost my memory, they lost their minds.

After three years of banishment from my pack, I finally learned to submit. On the day I returned, my fated mate, Alpha Kane, cornered me by the cliff with a cold warning. "If you ever lay a claw on Isla again, I will—" Before he could finish, I slammed my hand against a jagged rock. Once. Twice. Until the crunch of shattered bones echoed in the air. He stared at my limp, mangled hand. It wasn't healing instantly like it should. For the first time, his unwavering Alpha composure cracked. Back on the top floor of the Pack House, the Omega my parents adopted taunted me on the balcony. "So what if you have the former Alpha's bloodline? I am the future Luna!" With a vicious smirk, she dug her nails into her own arm, drawing blood. Then, she screamed. "Aurora! If you hate me that much, I'll leave! Please, just don't hurt my baby!" My mate and my brother rushed in just in time to see this. Instantly, they unleashed their terrifying Alpha and Beta auras, pinning me down. The suffocating pressure almost crushed my wolf. "You're beyond saving!" Kane snarled. "If anything happens to Isla or her pup, I'll wipe you off the face of the earth!" I nodded submissively. I turned around, walked straight down to the pack's dungeon. Without a second thought, I threw myself into the interrogation vat—a pool of highly concentrated liquid silver. Splashing silver burned my parents' skin as they burst through the door. My mother let out a horrific scream and fainted on the spot. My father fought through the searing agony, plunging his hands into the vat to drag me out. Meanwhile, my always cold and powerful Alpha mate froze. He stood there, shaking uncontrollably, unable to utter a single word. Agony tore through every nerve from the silver burns, but I smiled. Three years ago, after failing to win their approval, I was banished. The System had told me: Show absolute submission until death, and it will reward you with billions of dollars and send you back to your real world.

My father, Don Rocco, threw me to the wolves—a sick Wall Street game called the “Zero-Sum Gauntlet.” But when his precious adopted daughter, Scarlett, got rejected by Parsons? He whisked her off to Milan for Fashion Week to cheer her up. She thought she’d won. Rubbed his favoritism in my face. What she doesn’t know? In our family, the ones having fun are the ones we plan to throw away. Everyone says Scarlett is the Bellini family’s little princess. The darling of New York’s underworld. Every year, the family spares no expense on a massive birthday bash for her. And me? The actual daughter? I have to step aside. My father, Rocco, never threw me a party. My birthday gift every year? A new number on the family ledger. Another account to launder. He keeps me in the shadows. Scarlett is the one on his arm. So everyone thinks I’m the outcast. The rumor? That I'm just a decoy. That Scarlett is the true heir, hidden in plain sight. That she’s only a pretty face because I’m in the way. I just traced my finger over the “Zero-Sum Gauntlet” entry form. Said nothing. Why waste time on idiots? I’ve got a game to win. And an empire to claim.

On the eve of our wedding, my fiancé, Steven Cooper, suddenly appeared before me with his arms around his first love, Molly Hart. “I love you, and I love Molly too. I’ll still give you the wedding you’ve always wanted, but Molly is the one I’m going to marry.” A sharp pain struck my heart. Just as tears were about to fall, I heard Molly’s thoughts. “What a joke. He keeps offering things that don’t even matter. If he loves me so much, why doesn’t he give me money or buy me a house? “If the system weren’t forcing me to collect affection points from scumbag men, I wouldn’t bother standing here acting out this villainess role with him. “And seriously, with a demand this outrageous, she’s not actually going to agree to it just because she’s head over heels for him, is she? “Even if this is only a pre-wedding test, once she gives in, he'll keep trampling over her boundaries. In the end, she'll be destroyed emotionally and physically, and both she and her baby will lose their lives.” My eyes widened in shock, and the tears instantly disappeared. Maybe I was a little lovestruck, but I definitely didn’t want to die.

The year my sister turned fifteen, my father, Grant Davis, became obsessed with holding auctions at home. Everything in the house, from a plate of meat to a turn with the washing machine, from school lunch money to after-school activity fees, had to be won by bidding with family credits. I worked odd jobs until I dropped, sleeping only three hours a night, and finally saved up a thick stack of family credits, the paper soft and warped from my sweat. All Melody had to do was sit on the couch and shed a few tears, and my father would stuff fistfuls of credits into her arms. "Girls deserve to be spoiled. Can't have Melody feeling left out." That day, the item up for auction was an old necklace that had belonged to my grandmother, Ruth Bennett. Eyes burning, I pushed everything I had onto the table. "Eight thousand." Melody tossed out ten thousand without a second thought, her voice sweet and wheedling. "This necklace would go perfectly with my new dress." I begged my father through tears. "This is the only thing Grandma ever left me. Please." My father slapped me so hard my ears rang and my vision blurred. "Highest bidder wins. That's the rule! You're too poor to win, so don't blame anyone else!" Melody snatched the necklace, gave it a look of disgust, and casually tossed it into the roaring fireplace. "Oops, the fire's getting low. This'll make good kindling." I threw myself at the fireplace. The back of my hand split open instantly from the heat, the skin blistering and peeling away. They left, slamming the door behind them, complaining that my screaming was bad luck in the house. Later, I couldn't stop thinking. If I put my own life on the auction block, how many credits would you bid?

I took a blow to the head to protect my best friend Samantha Lane from the most popular girl in school. It almost got me expelled. Then Samantha turned around and sold me out completely, her voice dripping with sweetness as she sucked up to the girl who'd bullied her. "Cassandra Jones is a raging psycho. If she hadn't stuck her nose where it didn't belong, I would've been in your group ages ago." The next day, Samantha cried on camera during an interview. She twisted the story of me taking a beating for her into some sick power trip I'd been running on her. By the time it spread, the whole school had turned against me, and I was getting torn apart online. I stared at the screen, watching the two of them play best friends like nothing had happened. Then I calmly picked up my phone and called my older brother, the richest man in Hartwell City's elite social circle. "Hey, I'm done playing broke."

The year I became disabled, my own daughter Emily brought home the ex-husband who had abandoned me years earlier. With his new wife beside him, they strutted into my house as though they owned it. The three of them stared me down and announced a new house rule. "From now on, everyone pays their own eldercare costs." A caregiver had just changed my adult diaper. Emily pulled out a calculator and demanded I pay $150 on the spot for the nursing fee. I looked at the woman lounging on my couch and eating imported cherries, then forced myself to speak. "She lives here too. Why doesn't she have to pay?" Emily clenched her jaw. "Seriously! You think you can compare yourself to Aunt Camilla?" "You made me wear hand-me-downs and live on plain boiled vegetables. Life with you was cheap and miserable!" "Camilla takes me shopping for designer brands and out to fancy dinners. She gives me real love and freedom! They get a pass because I love them. You don't." I stared at the home cardiac monitor beside my bed. I had emptied my savings to buy it when she was sick. "You've always used my illness as an excuse to control me, to torment me. We share nothing but blood. Whatever feelings we had are long gone, and I have no obligation to take care of you for free." Day after day, they schemed and ground me down, until I finally died a miserable death in that hospital bed. Then I opened my eyes and found myself back, years in the past. It was the day I first discovered that my ex-husband Adam had been secretly taking Emily to Disneyland.

My sister has awakened her mermaid bloodline, but it is incomplete. Her skin is her curse. A single touch, too hard, and it cracks. For her, everything hard in our house has been thrown away. I love to dance, but the hard tips of ballet shoes are forbidden. I love music, but the strings of a guitar or the keys of a piano are too dangerous. Every dream I've ever had has been strangled in its cradle because of my sister's condition. My brother, Liam, who raised us both, always looks at me with tired, pleading eyes. "Elara is fragile, Isla. You have to be understanding." But I was only eighteen the first time I truly understood. I came home from my high school graduation ceremony, the scent of sunshine and excitement still on my clothes. The moment I stepped inside, Elara's hand connected with my cheek. Hard. For no reason at all. Everyone rushed to her. Liam pointed a furious finger at me. "Look what you've done! You've hurt her hand! How could you be so careless?" He shoved me aside and rushed out with Elara to find a doctor. I fell back against the glass coffee table, the impact jarring. And then, a strange, cold pain bloomed across my back. I felt my skin... tear. It was then I remembered the doctor's words from my last check-up: "You carry the Siren's Gene, Isla. It could manifest at any time." As my vision blurred, my own blood pooling on the pristine white floor, I finally understood. The curse wasn't just my sister's. It was mine, too.

My stepsister falsely accuses me of causing her allergies to act up. My three brothers stuff me into the cramped cellar and chain the door shut. I pound on the door and beg them to let me out. My eldest brother, an outstanding businessman, snaps, "It's bad enough that you keep bullying Lori. How could you make her eat seafood when you know she's allergic to it? Isn't that just murder? Stay in there and reflect on your mistakes!" My second brother, an award-winning singer, and my third brother, a genius painter, scoff contemptuously. "It's unbelievable that someone as evil as you is making excuses to garner pity. You can stay in there and repent for your sins!" After that, they take our shuddering stepsister to the hospital. The oxygen in the cellar soon runs out, and it gets difficult to breathe. Ultimately, I die in there. My brothers only remember me three days later when they bring our stepsister back from the hospital. Unbeknownst to them, I've already died of asphyxiation.

A priest has shown up at my first birthday party. He claims that I'm a cursed soul—that my presence will bring doom to those close to me, and my existence itself can snatch everyone's luck. The only way to counter this is to give me up to an orphanage and let me live a life of poverty and suffering. Without a family, I'll be able to overcome my fate as a cursed soul. Daddy has the priest cast out of our home immediately. Meanwhile, Mommy hugs me tightly. "My son is the luckiest boy in the whole wide world!" But everything has changed when my younger brother, Andy Lawson, has fallen off the 20th floor. His body is completely shattered from the fall. I can only stand by the window uneasily. Fear is evident in my eyes as I wave my hands with all my might. "It wasn't me! It really wasn't me!" The wind that day is very strong, but it can never drown out Mommy's cries. Daddy hoists me up and stuffs me into Andy's coffin. I keep latching onto the sides of the coffin to the point my fingers are all bloodied and trampled over. At the same time, I keep screaming for Mommy. Mommy stares at me blankly at first. But her hollow gaze is soon filled with hatred. "Why aren't you the one dead? That priest told us that you'll have to stay in the coffin for seven whole days and nights just to atone for your sins! Only then can Andy's soul rest in peace! "This is your fate and your sin, Adam!" The heavy lid slowly covers the coffin, soon sealing my hoarse cries and screams away. A long time later, a few voices ring out amid the sorrowful melody played by the organ. "Why is there a tiny gap in the coffin? Hurry up and nail it shut! We can't afford to have misfortune spread to us!" When the final nail is bolted onto the lid, I close my eyes. Mommy, Daddy, I'm no longer a cursed soul.