Why Is Jeffrey Dahmer Called The Milwaukee Cannibal?

Desperate for money, I planned a livestream exploring the home of a notorious serial killer in the dead of night. I thought it would be nothing more than a publicity stunt to attract viewers. I was wrong. What started as a reckless grab for attention turned into the most terrifying night of my life and a brutal lesson in what it truly meant to stare death in the face.

He promised to protect him from a killer. He never said he was one. When journalist Ian Parker witnesses a brutal murder, he should have been the killer's next victim. Instead, he wakes up in the hospital, saved by Zhedya Hunter…a brilliant forensic pathologist, a reclusive CEO, and a man with chilling grey eyes that feel hauntingly familiar. Charismatic and dangerously possessive, Zhedya offers Ian shelter in his opulent penthouse, a gilded cage where every comfort is a chain. As Zhedya's obsession deepens, Ian's career skyrockets, with damning evidence against the city's most wanted criminals mysteriously falling into his hands. But each exclusive story comes with a price: a fractured memory, a drugged haze, and a growing pile of bodies connected to anyone who threatens their twisted paradise. Now, Ian is trapped in a nightmare of luxury and lies, unraveling a truth more terrifying than any headline: his savior is a predator, his sanctuary is a crime scene, and the man who claims to love him is the most prolific murderer he will ever interview. Learning how to love a murderer is easy. Surviving him is the real story.

At the start of apocalypse, humans transform into zombies or the human-eating undead monsters. I heard their cries of suffering and fear. Also, the world set new rule called "survival of the fittest". Fortunately, Gods pity on them and give them superpowers to fight back but .... why is it that zombies are ignoring me?! (」ﾟﾛﾟ)｣ And, wait! Why are these zombies vomit when they bite me?! Am I not edible?!!(◎_◎;)

A doctor who saves helpless people and a serial killer who hunts monsters. A daughter to a decorated officer becomes the city's best doctor, but also a serial killer who hunts and kills pedophiles and rapists including her father. Her husband, and police officer Noah Adler, is the hidden leader of a child trafficking and organ harvesting syndicate that operates through her hospital and worse, she married the wrong twin. As missing children and illegal surgeries begin to point back to her workplace, Dr Karma Kuntz in order to clear her name and find out the truth unknowingly walks closer to the truth — and also to danger. Who kills who? Will love save them both? Is this a crime or is this justice? Where is the other twin?

When Sara Walker went on vacation, she could have never predicted what would happen. After an accident and storms force her to take shelter in an old cabin while hiking, Sara discovers the journal of Herschel Allen, the man who built the cabin. As Sara reads the trappers diary, she learns that he and his partner had been trapped during a blizzard. Ultimately, one was forced to resort to do the unthinkable to survive. By the end of the journal, Sara is reading of one man's descent into madness or his transformation into a monster.

My father died of esophageal cancer. For the final two years of his life, he could barely swallow anything. By the time he passed, he was nothing but skin and bones. The first New Year after his death, he came to my mother in a dream. "I'm starving," he said. "I just want to taste the thick-cut steak you used to make." My mother believed it without question. That very day, she pan-seared a large platter of steak and carried it to his grave. The next morning, she suffered a sudden heart attack and died on the spot. Devastated, I handled my mother's funeral together with my husband. That same night, my husband dreamed of my father as well. "Chester," he said, "I haven't eaten in so long. I want your pâté, served with some strong liquor." When my husband woke up, he bought the finest liver pâté, opened a bottle of single-malt whiskey, and went straight to the grave. However, not long after returning home, he collapsed from acute liver failure. He was rushed to the ICU and died three days later. I was on the brink of collapse myself. I left my daughter in the care of a close friend while I tried to handle the endless wave of tragedy. That evening, my daughter never came home from school. I searched everywhere, and finally, on the road to the cemetery, I found her. She was clutching a bowl of spicy stew, several grilled sausages floating in the broth. "Mom," she said, "Grandpa and I used to eat this all the time. I dreamed he said he was hungry." I finally lost it. I knocked the bowl from her hands and carried her home. That night, my father appeared in my dream once more. "I suffered so much while alive," he said. "Have some pity on me. "New Year's is coming. I want to come home for a meal. Make sure you cook fish." I woke in terror. Holding my daughter, I sat before the three framed portraits for two full days without eating or drinking. On New Year's morning, I realized she was no longer breathing. Clutched tightly in her hand was a packet of spicy dried salmon. I could not believe it. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day my mother, her eyes red with worry, said she was going out to buy steak.