Mind Control Poen

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.

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'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.

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.

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.

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?"

When the babies in my womb were about five months old, I suddenly heard my daughter's voice in my head. "Mommy, Bella is trying to get rid of me. She's grabbing my umbilical cord with her hands. It hurts so much…" Believing Ava, I forced myself to eat nonstop and take every supplement I could. I even asked the doctor whether there was any medicine that could suppress Bella's growth. When I was in labor, the fetuses were too large. I lost so much blood and only delivered Ava before I died. Bella died in me as well. Right before my consciousness faded, I saw the newly born Ava looking at me with a wicked smile. "You idiot. You believed everything I said. Your luck, Bella's luck, and even Daddy's luck. I'll gladly take them all." Only then did I realize that Ava, whom I fought so hard to give birth to, was a monster. When I opened my eyes again, it was back to the very first day I heard Ava's voice in my head.

My best friend, Sophia Lisciotti, is brutally murdered at the docks, and I cover up for the real killer. The Don of the Sollazzo family interrogates me, and the Sollazzos hunt me down. Nevertheless, I guard the secret. I would rather die than speak. Ten years later, my former best friend, Valeria Sollazzo, rises to become the Principessa of the Sollazzo family, wielding absolute power. She chains me to the tribunal platform and places a memory extractor over my head. "Lina, you let the murderer walk free for ten years. Today, I'll drag out the secret you've spent your whole life hiding." But when the screen projects the murderer's face, the ruthless Principessa goes deathly pale.