Assassination Karma Novels & Stories

“What did he do?” “There wasn’t much time to act. He threw a harpoon at the man and killed him before he could claim his first victim.” “A preemptive strike. Condemning himself to hell?” “Possibly.” “Why possibly?” “Because the act was committed with a pure motive. He didn’t kill the man out of fear or hatred, anger, ignorance, or even attachment to the lives and cargo aboard the ship. He did it to save the man from the evil karma he was about to incur. The Buddha chose to bring it down upon himself instead, even knowing it might set him back many lifetimes of suffering. He saw the big picture and acted selflessly.”

When I was released early from prison for good behavior, my three sisters showed up to pick me up with a dog collar in hand. Vivian Bennett, my eldest sister, held it out to me and said calmly, "Put it on. Don't take it off until we make it home. Pass this final test, and you'll officially become a Bennett." Claire Bennett, my second sister, patted me on the shoulder and sighed. "You've suffered these past seven years. But you smell awful. Go home and take a really good shower before you sit down for dinner." Natalie Bennett, my third sister, looked me up and down, frowning. "When did you get so skinny? I guess the collar suits you now." Seven years ago, they said something similar. Luc

--- Retribution hit soon and cold-bloodedly. It took no longer than two days for Marcus Vale to be caught on various federal charges. The media fell upon him rabidly, reducing his image to shambles with as ferocity with which they'd come after Killian. And whoosh. The man who tried to assassinate them had assassinated someone in return. Killian couldn't help but wonder who had delivered the fatal blow. But maybe it didn't make any difference. Maybe, in the end, justice had its mark.

I've got twenty million riding on humanity surviving this. Jack laughed—actually laughed—as the power built inside him. It was too much. Far too much for any single vessel to contain. His cells screamed in protest. His blood boiled. His very soul stretched to the breaking point. But he held on. Because above them, racing toward certain death, Charon had finally reached the Harbinger. The legendary assassin didn't hesitate. Charon's entire existence had been defined by calculation. Every kill, every mission, every sacrifice measured and weighed against the greater good. He'd told himself the arithmetic made sense. That the horrors he'd committed were justified by the horrors he'd prevented.

Karma, the first born of the current generation of Regal Vampires stated. "You sure are always worked up for power, Big sis. But, do you even know the way to those fragile, magical, enchanted fairies?" Kieran laughed like he can't believe what he said was true. "I don't even know why those things are holding the serpents. It's not so like them", the two of them shared laughter before sharing a drink from a person they killed a while ago. In her most sophisticated way, Karma raised the guy's right arm. "For eternity?" as she looks at Kieran who did the same thing on the guy's right arm. "For eternity" and they suck the remaining life of the poor man.

Lyph~ the soul which resided within the baby's body, was a notorious Killer. Killed thousands of lives, be it corrupted or innocent as it was her job. She was also a weapon smith, but only making weapons for herself, deadly kinds of weapons, many even wished for her to make theirs too, but she refused nonetheless.

The silence that followed was long and heavy, thick enough that Chloe could hear her own heartbeat inside it. "Chloe," Vanessa said finally, very quietly, "look at me." Chloe lifted her head. "You are not that person," Vanessa said, gripping both of Chloe's hands in hers, her voice fierce and unwavering. "What happened in New York was an accident. A horrible, tragic accident that's haunted you every single day since. But what you're describing right now — that's not an accident. That's a choice. And if you make that choice, there's no accident to hide behind anymore. There's no explaining it away. There's no forgiving yourself for it, ever."

“We spoke last month—” Karma raises a hand. “It’s him.” His voice cuts like a blade. “Eaten alive by piranhas. Courtesy of Mad-Bishop.” Fear ripples through the room like electricity. Hushed whispers. As if they can gossip the terror away. “That barbarian killed my daughter.” Karma’s voice, dark with grief and rage. “Took the Matron and Carlton hostage. And now he's killed one of ours.” He points a finger. “And from what I see, we’re next.”

Alssandro Leone Romano James Mathews hung up and rounded his shoulder to get rid of the fatigue he now had. He is my Vice-President, henchman, undertaker, right-arm man. Despite his age and charisma, he was an ice-berg. A cruel callous bastard. Though he looked pristine and refined to the nines he had more blood on his hands than I did. We always had hired hands but this sadistic sicko liked to get his hands dirty. He took a pussy, disposed of it. He took a dime, impenitently.

I retorted. “There are many ways to kill. Brute force doesn’t equate to all of them, not even many. Death was my job, and I found it worked best when you had the element of surprise. Assassins prefer a silent, clean kill. Blood and gore is extra.” He tried a smile, but his eyes were far away and hollow.