Death Stare

My mother was the best portrait artist in the police station. She had a strong sense of justice and brooked no evil. However, all I got was a sharp retort when I called her to save me. "You know it's your sister's coming-of-age celebration today, and you're cursing her? Kidnapped, are you? Fine, the kidnappers can kill you for all I care." She assumed it was a prank call. So, she refused to go to the police station and do her job. I wasn't saved in time and was tortured to death. When the DNA report came out, she came to the scene all wobbly. She drew a portrait of me with my bones as reference, her hand trembling all the way. "Jessica? It can't be her. This is a mistake!" She tried again and again. Yet, it didn't matter how many times she redid it as the portrait showed my face. My mother, who had hated me my whole life, teared up.

The daughter of my father's first love suffered from heatstroke because she was left in the car, so he tied me up in a fit of anger and locked me in the car boot. He looked at me with utter disgust and said, "I don't have a vicious daughter like you. Stay here and reflect on yourself." I begged him, apologized to him, and pleaded for him to let me out, but all I got in return was his ruthless order. "Unless she dies, no one is allowed to let her out." The car was parked in the garage. No one could hear me no matter how much I screamed for help. Seven days later, he finally remembered me and decided to let me out. However, he had no idea that I had already died in that trunk and could never wake up again.

"I don't want to go with you on this business trip," Lucy Landon said at the dinner table. Her voice was calm, so calm that no one could sense anything unusual. Steven Cooper's trip was set for June 1st. It wasn't their wedding anniversary, nor was it anyone's birthday. Just an ordinary Children's Day. Three days ago, she had stumbled upon a voice message on Steven's phone. A child's soft and childish voice had said, "Daddy, for Children's Day, I want to go to Maldove to see the fishes!"

Ang anak ng first love ng tatay ko ay nagdusa sa heatstroke dahil iniwan ito sa sasakyan, kaya itinali niya ako sa galit at ikinulong ako sa loob ng kotse. Tinignan niya ako nang may labis na pagkamuhi at sinabing, “Wala akong malupit na anak na tulad mo. Manatili ka rito at pagnilayan mo ang sarili mo.” Nagmakaawa ako sa kanya, humingi ako ng kapatawaran sa kanya, at nakiusap na palabasin niya ako, pero ang nakuha ko lang bilang kapalit ay ang kanyang malupit na utos. “Maliban kung mamatay siya, walang sinong pwedeng magpalabas sa kanya.” Nakaparada ang kotse sa garahe. Walang makarinig sa akin kahit gaano kadaming beses akong sumigaw. Makalipas ang pitong araw, sa wakas ay naalala niya ako at nagpasyang palabasin na ako. Gayumpaman, wala siyang ideya na namatay na ako sa loob at hindi na muling magigising.

Ten years ago, Elena, my best friend and my foster brother Alexander's fiancée, was tortured to death, every bone in her body crushed. I was the only witness, yet I chose to cover for the sadistic murderer. From that day on, I became the Family's greatest traitor. I accepted a ten-year prison sentence and bit off half my tongue just to keep that secret buried. Now, Alexander has returned as the most ruthless Don in Sicily. He dragged me out of my cell and strapped me into the memory extraction chair—a machine known to turn traitors into vegetables. As high-voltage currents tore through my brain, Alexander stared at me with eyes full of hatred and roared, "I will cut open your brain to find the bastard you’re protecting, and then I’ll send you both to hell!" But when the true killer's face finally appeared on the big screen, Alexander went mad.

Despite dreaming of attending university all my life, I ended up stuck in my farming village. I married my brother-in-law and became my nephew’s stepmother. This all happened because my sister died trying to make money for my tuition fees on the day my results came out. I thought I had failed to secure a place at university and stopped thinking about higher education out of guilt. I married my brother-in-law according to my sister’s wishes. To pay for my sins, I raised my nephew and treated him like my own son. I made money and tutored him so that he could get into Northside University. In the end, I developed late-stage cancer. Before dying, I attended my nephew’s celebration, but he publicly accused me of being a homewrecker while my husband agreed that I had seduced him. They brought out my sister, dead for eighteen years, and made me apologize to her. It was then that I found out she had faked her death and used my university admission letter to finish her study. She had become a university lecturer after tricking me into taking care of her family. Outraged, I had a cerebral hemorrhage. When I woke up, I found I had gone back to the day my sister faked her death.

On the day of the company's annual gala, I quit my job and went back to the countryside, using up all my savings to help my best friend raise her daughter. She had died tragically, swept away by the river while trying to retrieve my hundred-million-dollar gala prize ticket that had fallen into the water. Wracked with guilt, I honored her dying wish and married her husband. After the wedding, I sold my blood and even a kidney just to make ends meet, raising my stepdaughter with everything I had. Eventually, she fulfilled her dream of winning the Best Actress Award and was about to marry the richest man in the country. But just as I was preparing to give a speech at her wedding, I saw my best friend, who had been dead for over a decade. She clutched my stepdaughter's hand and accused me of being a homewrecker who seduced her husband, and even claimed I had been the one who pushed her into the river all those years ago. Only then did I learn the truth—she had faked her death all those years ago, just to steal my prize ticket and travel the world, leaving me behind to raise her family. The shock sent me into a cerebral hemorrhage. When I opened my eyes again, I had gone back to the day she drowned.

Taking his place on the throne, the King crowned his golden girl his queen. I, on the other hand, was granted two choices—retire from court with a hefty fortune or be his kept mistress in the dark. Choosing neither, I hung myself on the clothesline right outside the laundress quarters. I had been sent back twenty years in time, tasked by the System to conquer four targets. I’d just blown the last target and my final chance to complete the quest. The System notified me that following the death of my flesh, my consciousness would return to the modern world, back to the arms of my family. Just as I closed my eyes, the desperate cries of my name caught my attention.

Three days after my boyfriend’s adopted sister died a tragic death, I clutched a so-called "hush money" check in my hand and became an accomplice in everyone’s eyes. My boyfriend once knelt in the pouring rain to beg me, and his sister’s five-year-old daughter cried and begged me to testify, but I refused them both. Ten years later, when I was dying of cancer, my boyfriend had become a billionaire. The first thing he did upon returning to the country was to forcibly extract my memories, even though I would suffer endless pain. "Elara, you vain, heartless monster! Lily and I must have been blind to ever treat you like family!" "Lily has been dead for ten years, and you’ve been walking free with that dirty money the whole time!" "Today, I’m going to find out exactly who paid you off—the person you protected just for money!" My boyfriend held a press conference to publicly crucify me for my crimes. But after seeing the whole truth, he went completely insane.

On the day I was awarded the highest honor in the vampire world—the Order of the Night—I died. Three hours after my death,my parents, my brother, and my Consort had just finished celebrating my sister’s Nightfall Commencement. While my sister Olivia was posting warm, smiling family photos on the vampire social network,I was locked in the basement,dragging my tongue across my phone screen,desperately trying to make a call for help. The only person who answered was my Consort—Julian. He said only one thing: “Bella, stop acting. Olivia’s Nightfall Commencement is important. Stop throwing a tantrum.” That was the ninety-ninth time they had disappointed me.And the last. I lay in a pool of blood so dark it was nearly black,my breathing fading into nothing. They thought I was just sulking somewhere,hiding as usual. They believed that if they taught me a lesson,I would crawl back obediently, like I always did. But they didn’t know. I had never left the house. I was already dead.