Mind Control Fanfiction

When I got home, I received dozens of voice messages from a parent. They had been sent in the group chat with other parents of children in the same kindergarten class as my daughter, Lily. [Ms. Channing, didn't I tell you that my daughter is allergic to furry toys? Why did you allow that boy, Sparky, to give my daughter a hugging bear?] Ms. Channing quickly denied this. No child called Sparky had ever studied in the kindergarten. Another parent was also furious about this. [How can you claim that? My son said Sparky would always force him to play hide-and-seek. If he refuses, Sparky would grab his hair!] I quickly asked Lily what this was about. Lily took out a hugging bear from behind her back and told me about it. [Ms. Channing can't see Sparky. Only smart children can see him. Sparky is a little boy with red eyes. Every child who plays hide-and-seek with Sparky will get a hugging bear.]

The richest man in the country, Sebastian Vance, has a ring custom-made to my exact measurements, worth billions of dollars, for the woman who will be his bride. In the first life, my stepsister, Mia Lowe, slips on the ring and marries him. Sebastian claws her face, shouting, "She's not the one!" In the second life, my other stepsister, Lorraine Lowe, loses 30 pounds before marrying him. He shoves her down the stairs anyway and says, "She's not the one either." In the third life, my stepmother, Vivian Cole, grits her teeth and slices off a piece of her own flesh just to force the ring onto her finger. Sebastian sneers and pushes her under the bathwater, holding her down until her body goes limp. By the fourth life, out of options and terrified, they finally send me. I slide the ring on, and it fits perfectly. My entire family lets out a sigh of relief. But the second Sebastian lays his eyes on me, he draws a knife and stabs me to death. "Why is it still not her? Where is she?" In the last life, he has his assistant, Owen Hayes, deliver a ring to us. All four of us insist that it won't fit. Owen shoots us a strange look. "Mr. Vance said the rightful owner of this ring is among you."

My younger sister, Angela Schrute, got married at 20. By 21, she already had a child. I'm Elizabeth Schrute, 27 years old, and still unmarried. Over the years, I've brought home a few boyfriends. But every time the subject of marriage comes up, my father, Michael Scrute, will take them into his study. I don't know what he said to them. But whenever they come out of that room, they will turn cold and frightening. It's like their hands are itching to wrap around my throat and squeeze the life out of me. My latest boyfriend thinks Dad is being unreasonable… until he follows him into the study. When he emerges, his eyes burn with rage. He breaks up with me on the spot and slaps me. Twice. I still can't figure it out. What is it that drives each of them away? And what secret is hiding in Dad's study?

I was getting married—but I didn't tell my parents. It was my fifth wedding. The last four? Total disasters, thanks to them. Every time, they claimed something was "wrong" with the wedding car and somehow scared the guy off. First was my college boyfriend. We were solid—four years strong. My parents pushed for marriage... then ditched the idea on the big day because his car wasn't "fancy" enough. Second groom? My boss. He pulled up in a shiny new car they actually approved—until they didn't. Yanked me right out. Third time, they set me up with someone themselves. The guy brought ten cars to play it safe. Didn't matter. They shut it down before I even stepped outside. Fourth time? Same story. I kept wondering—what was so cursed about these cars? Why push me to get married, only to destroy it every single time? This year, I was trying again. Wedding number five. This time, I was pregnant—with the son of the country's richest man. I didn't tell my parents. Thought I'd finally outsmarted them. But just as I was about to get in the car... I saw them sprinting toward me.

I'm the female protagonist of a spicy novel. One day, the system tosses me into an innocuous novel to be reformed. What a joke! I turn to the male protagonist. "Hi there. Want to make out?" He has me thrown behind bars and accuses me of molesting him. Much later, he does even naughtier things than the male protagonists in spicy novels do.

My daughter was violated and killed, yet her death was ruled a suicide. After seven failed appeals, I kidnapped the chief prosecutor’s daughter. I tied the chief prosecutor’s daughter to an autopsy table and publicly addressed the prosecutor’s office in a live stream. “I performed the autopsy myself. My daughter didn’t kill herself. She was murdered. “I’ll give you seven chances. Release the actual evidence and name the murderer publicly. Each time a chance runs out, I’ll remove one of her body parts.” The chief prosecutor and his wife knelt on the floor. They begged me desperately to spare their daughter. “The evidence proves your daughter took her own life. Stop this madness now and let my daughter go. She’s innocent.” Viewers in the live stream called me insane. They said I had lost my mind with grief and was taking it out on an innocent person. I ignored their contempt. With a sneer, I picked up a scalpel and pressed it against the judge’s daughter’s abdomen. “The clock is ticking. Hurry up and reveal the true murderer now.” I knew perfectly well the real murderer was watching the stream at that very moment.

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.

Before my crazy grandmother died, she gave me three walnuts. According to her last wish, I cracked open the first walnut on my twenty-fifth birthday. Inside the walnut was a slip of paper. 'Go to the skybridge and grovel at the first beggar you meet' was the instruction written on it. When I looked at the note, I could feel my cheeks burning with embarrassment. Still, I did as told. To my surprise, the beggar turned out to be an undercover cop. Only later did I learn that I had long been targeted by human traffickers, and the bow had saved my life. As for the second walnut, my grandmother told me to crack it open before I got married. When I put on my wedding dress, ready to marry the policeman who saved me, I happily opened it. This time, there was a crumpled old photograph inside. In the photo, my fiancé was smiling as he strangled another bride.

Snowie Walton, the belle of the class, claimed she could hear my thoughts. When a classmate gained weight from hormone medications, she pointed at me and shouted, "Why did you call Eva a disgusting fat pig? Do you think you'll never be ill in your life?" The others believed her right away. They surrounded me, relentlessly demanding that I apologize publicly. From that day onward, I was isolated by the entire class. Later, during a lesson, the teacher mentioned her family. Snowie suddenly turned on me again. "What do you mean that our teacher only got this job through connections and that she has no capabilities at all? Show some respect!" I desperately explained that I had never thought such things, but the teacher didn't believe me. Not only was I written up for disciplinary action, but my scholarship was also revoked. Then, confidential documents from the school labs were stolen. Once again, Snowie blamed me. "How could you sell those files to foreigners and say that they were only worth a hundred thousand?" I was arrested by the police and convicted of leaking state secrets. I was sentenced to life imprisonment. In the end, I died in prison, consumed by depression. When I opened my eyes again, I had returned to the very day Snowie accused me of insulting Eva. By this time, she didn't know that I had uncovered her secret behind her so-called ability to hear my thoughts.

My roommate sets me up. She deliberately forces me into a death-trap survival game. As I shut my eyes and wait for death to take me, I realize that the game's bosses can read my mind. "Look at the blood spurting from this baby doll's neck. It's like a fountain of pee." The baby doll is baffled. It's about to launch its ultimate move, but it falters. "Man, look at how this guy is still sweeping the streets when he's so old. Does he not have a pension?" The old man is about to swallow me whole, but he suddenly gets a heart attack. An ambulance takes him away. "Oh, so this is the amusement park's owner. Oh, dear god, he's handsome, albeit a little skinny. I can send him flying with a kick!" The handsome owner's expression darkens. He instantly takes off his shirt to reveal his washboard abs. "Do you still think I'm skinny?"