Novel & Cerita Survival Methods Of The Cannon Fodder Daughter

"He's conscripting an army by holding a gun to the heads of their families." "My son is a Carrier," the woman sobbed, burying her face in her hands. "He's only fourteen. The New Dawn zealots told him to kill his father to prove he was truly 'Evolved.' When my son refused... they attacked us. They used fire. They used gravity. They slaughtered anyone who stood between them and the children." Baraka stood up, his jaw clenched so tight his teeth ached.

I'm the middle child. My older sister, Jessica Carter, is a straight-A student. My little brother, Tommy Carter, is the baby of the family. I'm the one everyone overlooks, yet Mom and Dad are always praising me in front of other people. "Riley is such an easy child. She never asks for new clothes and is perfectly happy wearing Jessica's hand-me-downs." "When there are only two pieces of bacon left at the table, she won't even reach for them. She just keeps her head down and eats her toast as if she hasn't noticed." "Jessica shuts herself in her room to study, and Tommy hogs the TV. But even at ten years old, Riley insists on doing the dishes and sweeping the floors. We can't get her to

Even if that advantage was my six-year-old daughter’s ability to turn living people into ash with her mind. “Come on,” I said, taking her hand. “Let’s go find Daddy.” The gunfire around us was finally dying down. Bodies littered the floor. But we’d won this round. Now came the hard part.

Carrie blinked, reaching up to touch his mustache. Feeling the rough texture pricking her fingers, she gasped. She was really… alive? But how? That rod neatly went through her chest, she could still feel it piercing through her heart. So how could she have survived and found herself three years before her life went downhill? As she wondered what exactly was going on, the high ranking wolves behind them grew impatient. “Did Dean Meadows do anything to your daughter or not?” “We caught them in the act, what do you th…” her father was on the verge of affirming when she hurriedly shook her head.

I knew it. “N-No…Dante. I’m sorry.” I looked straight back into those piercing green eyes. “Then talk to me baby.” He kissed the top of my hand he insisted on keeping a hold of. Here goes nothing… “In my pack, you don’t waste precious resources like using the pack doctor or hospital unless you are about to die. And…being the daughter of the gamma and head pack warrior, my father impressed upon me since birth not to use the pack doctor or hospital unless he and my mother deemed it medically necessary - life or death situation level. Then when I became a teenager, I wanted answers about my body that I didn’t want to ask my parents and they started scaring me with stories of how the dead and dy

Excitement pervades me, expecting some cheesy lines from it but instead of butterflies in my stomach, terror slowly fills me as soon as I read it. “So, the daughter of Jera Young was still alive huh? Should I just bomb the whole Coleman Empire to get rid of you? For sure you’ll turn into ashes after that.” ~ M .C

"Welcome back, sister. We've been waiting for you to wake up." Here, in this family with no shared blood, I felt a warmth I hadn't known in years. I slowly sat up, feeling the strength returning to my body. "Mom," my voice was calm and firm, "from this day forward, Alessia Moretti is dead." "I am your daughter." The moment the words left my lips, I felt a sense of release I had never known. The girl who humbled herself for her family, the woman tormented by poison, the daughter wronged by her loved ones. She was dead.

"The underground den they used didn't even give her wolfsbane when they extracted her bone marrow. She was in constant, soul-deep agony every single day." The room fell into a chilling silence. "What did you say?!" All three of them—my brother, mother, and Kain—spoke in unison, their voices cracking with disbelief and horror. My mother's eyes went wide. She coughed up a mouthful of blood. If the pack-mind visions weren't faked… then every single second her daughter spent in rogue territory was real, gut-wrenching torture. Her heart shattered. Her daughter had been living through hell.

I can fix this before it's too late. My phone lit up. Family group chat. Father's message was short: [Gemma is terminal. Bianca forbidden from donation. Family decision.] My blood turned to ice. They had seen the misdelivered file. They thought I was the one dying—and they had voted to let me rot. When I pushed open the door and saw Father, I felt it— the temperature drop, the world freezing around me. Tears burned my eyes. I couldn't stop them. "Father," I said, my voice barely steady.

As the iron gates of the mental institute swing open, my wife, Serena Seacrest, walks in with her childhood sweetheart, Adrian Cross, beside her. She looks at me with utter disgust. I am strapped tightly to the bed, unable to move. She sneers, "Damian, you've been subjected to electroshock treatments for an entire month. Is your mania any better? You pushed Adrian down the stairs and nearly broke his leg, so I sent you here to teach you how to be a normal person." Serena tosses a worn-out pink comfort bunny onto the floor and speaks as though she is granting me a favor. "Get down on your knees and apologize to Adrian. If you do, I'll be kind enough to let you see Lila next month." I sta