Murderer
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This is thriller where the killer murders with put leaving a detail and you wont ever feel bored i guess all of you guys will enjoy reading this
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Murderer Blood line
Pranav lay on his bed, head on a pillow and a cigarette burning in his right hand. Children’s voices drifted through the open window. The curtains were drawn, and the room was semi-dark. Pranav’s motionless eyes were fixed on the ceiling. He was feeling something – what it was, he wasn’t sure. There was no simple way to describe it. Losing something you felt was yours and then getting it back. But, more importantly, he simply couldn’t fathom why he was forced to give up something which was truly his?You will make a very good director, son. Pranav could hear his father’s empty promise hanging in the silence around him.He felt a hot sting between his index and middle finger.He jerked himself up, threw the cigarette on the floor and watched it burn.The feeling of indignation fanned across his chest like a forest fire. He had done everything he possibly could to gratify his idealistic father. He worked with the labourers at the kiln, repaired cracks, carried buckets of h
Murderer Logic
The air was uncharacteristically crisp for January.The gruesome image of his sister’s dead body replayed involuntarily in Rishabh’s mind as he walked over a bed of manicured grass, crossed the cobblestone path and sat on the wooden bench under the Peepal tree. Arya sat by his side.The blue envelope is gone.The sun was straight above them, the cool wind skimmed through Arya’s long hair as he watched Rishabh’s movements attentively. Rishabh’s eyes were fixed on the glistening snow that capped the mountains in front of them, but Arya knew that behind those dark grey eyes, the brain was processing a lot of information.‘What’s in your mind Rishabh?’ Arya looked uncertain.Rishabh exhaled but did not offer an answer.‘What is it? Are you not going to tell me?’ The uncertainty on Arya’sface rapidly turned into annoyance. ‘Are you w-worried that since I am not studying Engineering like you, I w-wouldn’t be able to process the stuff going on in that big brain of you
Murderer Running away
Meera’s left hand was trembling badly.She had a fleeting vision from the time when Mr Vishal Arora and his first wife had brought Esha into the family. Meera was standing at the door, her eyes fixed on the smiling baby, whose tiny fingers were extended towards her. The image was involuntarily replaced by Esha’s lusterless body gazing aimlessly into the emptiness of the room.She dried her eyes with the edge of her turmeric stained blue sari.‘You want to know what I was doing?’ asked Meera slowly. ‘I was in the kitchen with Jyoti. I was making tea and she was distributing it to the guests. She was supposed to make some snacks too. But she got engaged in a conversation with Mr Dhruv and I was getting late ... You might ask what I was getting late for ... TV serial, mother, son and daughter-in-law – big drama – I watch it every day at 5 pm. When Jyoti was back ... I dashed into the living room. The glass entrance door was open ... So, I closed it.’ She paused. ‘You might ask
Murderer The accountant
The door opened and Naina walked in. She was lean and graceful, her long black hair, tipped with golden streaks, floated in waves till her midriff. Her sharp nose and mascara-coated lashes accentuated her allure and her tight blue top accentuated her firm body.‘Hello ...’ She almost whispered. Her voice soft yet clear like a small silver bell. The inspector almost rose to offer her the chair.‘Thank you, Miss Naina for coming in,’ the inspector smiled, something Rishabh and Arya saw for the very first time.‘It is not a problem at all. This setup Mr Inspector,’ she smiled, ‘looks exactly like an employment interview. Three people staring at a nervous candidate while she rummages her brain for a pre-rehearsed answer. It is actually quite intimidating.’ She smiled like an air hostess welcoming the passengers on board.‘Are you feeling intimidated, Miss Naina?’ the inspector shot his first question.‘No,’ she smirked. ‘Why should I be? Interviews are dicey affairs. Most
Murderer Sorrow
The inspector played the different techniques he could employ to handle Jyoti in his mind. He had two lines of attack; one was through the expensive piece of shopping she had done at Solan, and the other about the last evening when she went snooping near Esha’s room. But, he was not going to confront her directly. The idea was to scare the truth out of the young housemaid. He did this twice every day in the police station. Fear was his ally.With a little help from Rishabh, the inspector had converted his room into an interrogation room. Four chairs with a small coffee table at the centre was placed right in front of the window. The room was blazing with winter sunlight and tiny worm-like particles could be seen against the rays, floating in midair. The variety of glass items sparkled from all the corners like secondary sources of light.I must squeeze a confession out of her, the inspector thought, biting his lip.Arya walked in through the open door and occupied the chair
Murderer Lie
The inspector stopped short in front of the glass door at the Arora Mansion.Thoughts were swirling around inside his head ... the sub- inspector’s observations about Anubhav ... his wife’s sizzling tale about Jyoti ... His own views based on the timings and alibis. Nothing was convincing enough. A sense of urgency was rising within him. On the other side of the glass door, Rishabh and Arya got up from their seats, their tired eyes distant but their minds keen and ready to assist the inspector. In the next moment, the inspector rapped his knuckles on his forehead, pushed the door sideways, walked in and took a left. The decision was made. Forget everything and follow your instincts. And, the very first thing his instinct told him was – Pranav, stepbrother. Possible motive – Control of the company.He knocked on his door.‘Come in,’ Pranav bellowed from inside.The inspector hurried towards Pranav with his arm extended. Pranavturned around on his rotating chair in fro
Murderer Story teller
Inspector Rashid fought an unfamiliar sense of anxiety as he stood in his garden looking straight at the snow-capped mountains. The skies had cleared up after the rain last night, and the golden sunlight made everything it touched glisten. The trees stood majestically, flaunting their dark green leaves but the inspector didn’t notice any of this, everything seemed blurry to him. He didn’t even hear the calls of the blue-winged Magpies which resonated across the valley nor the sound of the cool breeze that whispered soothingly as it swirled between the mountains. The only thing he heard was the voice of the District Magistrate, it was as if a cassette was being played again and again in his mind. Rashid, we must make an arrest by tomorrow.On the other side of the fence, a lanky boy was milking the family cow. His mother, a young woman of thirty, was shouting something about a man reaching the moon. Her ears, weighed down by heavy earrings, looked out of shape. Small children, dre
Murderer No face
Tiny drops of rain lashed against the windows. The swollen clouds, still some distance away judging by the distant claps of thunder, were approaching at full speed. The high-pitched wail of the wind was audible at frequent intervals.It was inky black outside, but inside the living room everything looked bright ... except it was not. Everyone present was seated at the edge of their seats waiting anxiously for their chance. The sub-inspector called everybody, one by one, to the dining table and asked them about their movements during the evening. This went on for a while.Waiting for your chance made it a nerve-wracking process. It accentuated an occasional sigh to an opera crescendo and was enough to startle the wits out of the unhappy gathering. A mixture of grief and panic was visible on the faces. Some were sitting perfectly still but had trouble breathing, some were feeling restless while others could feel a flutter in their stomachs.Among them, a figure sat calmly, mi
Murderer Trap
Outside, the wind was gathering speed.Anubhav was sitting with his back pressed against the sofa and his head tilted towards the ceiling. His eyes were closed. He could hear some faint noises, as if people were talking to him through water. A drifting numbness seemed to carry his body and for a moment the sofa felt like quicksand. He was sinking ... and there was nothing he could do about it.He tried to pull himself back, his head began to hurt as if a hangover had kicked in. He was sinking fast. He was having trouble breathing ... he felt like something was covering his face. Then from the centre of blackness within his head came a dazzling source of light with a deafening whistle ... as if he was in front of a speeding train.He was stuck, his entire body numb unable to move. There was no escape. But, he was sinking, the weight of the truth pulling him down. The truth that could save him, the truth Esha had told him yesterday.The sound was gone and it was all white.
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To Readers
Murderer is a mystery/thriller novel by Kokku that follows the story of a killer who wants nothing but to kill Esha Arora and is not planning to stop until that goal is reached. But why does the killer want to murder her so much? Did she do something wrong that made the murderer go after her? Can she even survive? Read the novel to find out all the answers you are looking for.
