Mind Control Daughter

"Four years, Malia. You let me believe those faith, hope and love you've shown me were all pure, but they're not." tears began pouring from John's eyes. "I'm so sorry, John." my mutters could not help from turning into wails. "I was too immature at that time. I was supposed to fix the issue but I couldn't." "Despite that, thank you so much for everything you have done. Your lies turned me into the monster that even your grandfather cannot win against." "I love you, John. I really do. And I can't live without you. Please, forgive me. I am willing to do everything to win your heart." "Take care, Malia. Hopefully, our paths will never cross again."

On the seventh day after my daughter goes missing, I kidnap an entire kindergarten. I lock away all 27 students and two teachers in a classroom. I tell the police that if they can't find my daughter, I will kill a kid every 30 minutes. The principal falls to her knees, wailing and begging, "It's not my fault that your daughter is missing. Why should other children pay for it?" I glance at my watch. "29 minutes left. Find her." I know she's in this kindergarten.

The day I recovered from my mental illness and got discharged, my parents held me in their arms with tears of happiness. My sister gave me a teddy bear and said she had been waiting for me to come home. I comforted my parents who were crying and accepted the gift from my sister. I slowly got used to ordinary life and became the real daughter of the Schmidt family. To show their preference for me, my parents transferred the family business into my name on my sister’s 18th birthday. But I cruelly murdered the family of three who cherished me on this day.

I had just gotten home when a parent in my son’s class group chat erupted: [Ms. Zinn, what kind of place are you running? Do you let just any random stray off the street become a teacher?] [My daughter came home, grabbed two forks, and tried to jump off the balcony. She said it was Miss Never who told her to!] The homeroom teacher panicked and denied it at once, insisting there was no such person as Miss Never at the kindergarten. She even posted the official teaching schedule in the chat to prove it. On the security footage, there was not a single trace of this so-called Miss Never. However, later, my son whispered to me in secret, “Mom, Miss Never is an old lady with a cat’s face.” “She says only kids can see her.”

On our anniversary, Nina Reid took our daughter—and her assistant, Ray Chapman—out for another "family day." Without me. That was it. I filed for divorce. Right after signing the papers and boxing up my stuff, I heard a buzz from the corner. Old phone. Twelve years old. Buried in a drawer. The screen lit up with a number I almost recognized. Hand shaking, I picked up. A voice I hadn't heard in years. Young. Way too familiar. "Hey, Liam. I need to talk to you."

In a music competition show, my rival unexpectedly played the melody I had in my mind before I could. Shocked, I confronted her, asking why she plagiarized me. However, she turned the accusation against me and said, "You said I stole your work, but do you have any proof?" However, I was unable to provide any concrete evidence. Thus, I was labeled as a bully and a plagiarist, ultimately meeting a tragic end. Even in my final moments, I couldn't figure out how she managed to steal something from my mind. When I opened my eyes again, I found myself back on that same stage. Seeing that my rival was about to play her part, I stopped her and said, "This time, it's my turn to go first."

Sixteen-year-old Vera Moonlock has survived the slums of the imperial capital by wit and stealth—but when a drunken soldier targets an innocent child, her dormant power erupts in a flash of psychic fury. Branded the “dream witch,” she’s dragged to the feared Judgment Tower, where the empire confines its most dangerous Alphas. There she meets Lucien Thornehart, the legendary Mad Wolf King, whose mind teeters on the brink of madness. Bound by necessity—and a fragile pact woven in the dream plain—they shatter their chains and ignite a rebellion under the rising Blood Moon. From the Howling Spire to the storm-lashed heights of Skyforge Citadel, Vera and Lucien must master their mismatched gifts: her star-blood dreamcraft and his feral alpha wrath. As they breach iron gates, outwit psionic dampeners, and rally hybrids and humans alike, they discover that the true enemy is not a single tyrant but the systemic fear that binds them all. In a final reckoning on a frozen lake, they redeem a fallen prince, unite former foes in the Constellation Accord, and found Ember Tower Academy—where the next generation will learn to guard freedom with fang and dream. *Dream Sovereign: Chronicles of the Blood Moon* is an epic saga of power, mercy, and the unbreakable bonds forged in shared nightmares.

Because I was a cheapskate, I rented a cheap apartment. The catch? Someone had died in it. The soundproofing of the house was bad, and I could hear my neighbor’s wife moaning every night. But my other neighbor told me that there was no one living in the apartment next to mine.

I, Taylor Laurent, go to the hospital's emergency department because of severe abdominal pain. When I wake up, my mom, Jocelyn Nord, stares at me in terror and asks, "You are not my daughter. Who are you?" Helpless and regretful, Hank Gibson, the doctor, says to my mom, "She is your daughter, it's just… an accident." My mom can't accept it and jumps off the hospital building, killing herself instantly. Hank is suspended because of this incident and, under my questioning, chooses to kill himself by hitting a wall. When I finally find my life partner and take the premarital medical exam, the staff tells me something that chills me to my bones.

I quit and dipped. City threw a parade. Only Jenna Blake—my oh-so-gifted junior who claimed she could "see through killers' eyes"—lost it. At her celebration banquet, she went full drama queen: "I owe everything to Kate Mercer. Please, bring her back!" I laughed. Cold. Not happening. Last time around, I was the hotshot detective. But every clue I found? She dropped it first like she read my mind. People started saying I was washed. So I went all in—three months, no sleep, cracked a massive trafficking ring. Led the raid myself. She beat me there. Again. Place was cleaned out. Boom. She's the city's golden girl. I'm the clown with no game. Pressure got ugly. My head snapped. I died chasing the last scumbag. Then—bam. I woke up. Same day. Raid morning. Round two.