Anwe The Killer 소설 & 이야기

“Taking those who are weaker, younger, making them fight for entertainment. And if you refuse, you die.” I share a look with Nero and Orion. This isn’t just some small-time operation. This is organized. A full-blown fucking enterprise. And it’s spreading like a goddamn virus through our packs. “I’m gonna need more than that, Aeron,” Nero says, his voice tight with barely restrained rage. “We can’t take this down without knowing who’s behind it. I’m going to have to contact Arkyn and Creed at this fucking rate.” Aeron hesitates, his gaze flicking to the floor. “There’s one name I remember … someone they mentioned a lot. He’s not a wolf, but he’s the one pulling the strings.”

Kerrick says, shifting into a comfortable position. "He had left a note that says Avan is the killer, but Avan is already dead," a let in a glimmer of hope that maybe he is still alive. "Yes, we have not yet identify all the corpses in that fire, but Avan we did. He is dead," he watches me as he sucessfully extinguish my new found hope. "Something else is going on, and I think this stranger is the key to figuring out what exactly it is," Kerrick says taking out his phone. "That reminds me," I start. "Mmh," he responds without looking up.

The years he'd built himself into a weapon. He told her about his first job. A man in a warehouse. The organization said he's a trader who had sold them bad information—people had died because of him. Vincent was fourteen. He didn't check if it was true. He wasn't supposed to. The man looked at him and said, "You're just a kid. Go home." That was worse than a fight. He pulled the trigger anyway. Then he went to a motel and sat on the floor of the shower until the water ran cold. He didn't cry. He just sat there trembling, watching the water go from pink to clear. He told himself the man would have killed someone else. She felt something tighten in her chest. Not fear. Not disgust. Something

“My day?” My day had included a press conference where a woman called me a murderer on live television and then called me privately to form a secret alliance while confessing to a hidden affair with the man I had killed and also buried evidence of abuse for. I picked up my phone to check my emails and somehow ended up on his name and I pressed the call button before I could talk myself out of it. It rang twice. "Karma." His voice was awake. Fully awake. Like he hadn't been sleeping either.

“Police report have confirmed that the mangled body that is found yesterday at the city last evening is similar to the method of killings of one of the controversial serial murderer, Andrew Mendez, 16 years ago at Delhi province. However, based on our initial investigation, the convicted murderer is already died. This is Kamilla Riz Dela Torre, SNS News reporting.”

Before she could speak more, Gamma Jemenei handed me the sword Zarion gave me as our wedding gift. And I cut Hestia's head with one clean swipe. The blood trickled down my face to my body, but I did not have an ounce of mercy at her. Not anymore. “Hestia! No...No! Hestia!” Aneliesse's cry echoed in the forest but I nodded at Jemenei. In a blink of my eye, he cocked his gun and a silver bullet flew free from it as he shot Aneliesse on the head.

‘I see . ‘I saw her a little before five.’ The inspector was interrupted by Anubhav. He was the manager of the Solan plant of Arora Cements, and if the local gossips were to be believed, he also had a thing for Esha. The inspector turned towards him. The face apart from the gloomy expression and the visible pain on it, seemed very familiar to him. ‘May I ask what she was wearing then?’ ‘She was wearing a black sweater with the word Cornell written on the back,’ Anubhav said. ‘She studied at Cornell.’

Jones completed. “Exactly, so I put A and B together, I realized—” he gulped another quantity of the beer, “she was the killer,” they both completed. “Wow, that's a lot to take in,” Jones took a deep breath before sipping from his half-empty beer. “Here is the plan, I will put a trail on her, and see where it leads. If she is our killer, then she will be coming for Katherine next.” “Katherine? How did you know I was seeing Katherine?” Andre's eyes opened.

Ansel’s mouth kept muttering out slurs, denying that horrible facts. “I’m not a killer!” Ansel shouted while his hands were grabbing everything on the bedside table. He threw them away in any directions. The sound of broken glass was so noisy. An alarm clock had just fallen victim of Ansel’s tantrum. Ansel was sobbing. His head hurt and got worse when the echo of the term of ‘Killer’ bounced back like a boomerang returning to its master.