Best Serial Killer Fiction Novels & Stories

One example from February 3, 1894: “Only a little over two years ago Henry G. Dowd rivaled the fiendish Jack the Ripper by slashing seven intoxicated, but inoffensive men in the Fourth Ward (Young, 2018).” “I never heard that yet, but I wasn’t unfamiliar with inspired killings as a reform to whom they admired, Detective. However, what I am intrigue is why are we talking about them as if they are connected with the case on our hand?” The junior officer’s frown deepens. “I couldn’t get what you were trying to imply, I’m sorry.” “That’s alright.” Detective Charlie Reed reassured his junior. “What I was trying to say is that some serial killers could have the same and different ways to show thei

I looked down at the book in my hands and opened to a random page, hoping the gruesome details would help me gain control of my body. "Do you have a favorite?" Her voice came from the direction of the doorway. I hadn't even heard it open. Surprisingly, I found the subject interesting, and the psychology behind it was fascinating. I'd already read about some guy and his murder castle, a real-life killer clown, and a black widow that killed any man that came near her. "My favorite is Dennis Rader." "Your favorite?" I asked in confusion. Surely, she couldn't mean her favorite serial killer, that was just creepy.

"I need the anatomy book you've got—full-on body display and the one murderers look for.." The man licks his lips, swallowing before seeming to open a secret drawer underneath his desk. "I know what you need; this book is named, 'How To Kill Like A Serial Killer,' and it's everything you're searching for, ma’am." I smile. "How much?" Two minutes later, I hurry to leave the bookstore. I ended up buying the goddamn book and some other anatomy book I’m obsessed with to keep me up all night and ignore Axel. These books will surely keep me from trying to kill Axel.

My orgasm goes on for a few seconds and then subsides. “I see what you did there.” “And what is that?” “You made me cum so that I can relax.” I might as well just tell her this dragging it out of me is damn painful. It was fun in the beginning, but the tension is killing me. “What is the worst thing you possibly think I can do for a living?” “Be like a serial killer or something sick like that.” “And the most boring thing?” “Maybe like an insurance salesman?” “Fuck I would rather want to be a serial killer then”

Interesting. "Come on, I'll show you where my car is." I followed him to a sleek black BMW, and my jaw almost dropped. Serial killers couldn't possibly drive such fancy cars, right? He opened the front door for me, and I blushed as I got in. Serial killers weren't usually gentlemen either. But what did I know? I didn't watch serial killer documentaries on N*****x; I was more into romantic stories. Although, I couldn't seem to write a groundbreaking romance novel that would get published.

That tidbit was probably fabricated to make the story more twisted and dramatic. The show was a popular one called Serial. I'd become accustomed to hearing the voices of detectives and crime fans debating unsolved murders. It was the type of show where one might listen to everything from common facts to conspiracy theories and deep evil secrets, ranging from drug overdoses to random acts of violence, such as serial killer cases and accidents. Each one appealed to my dark side and entertained me. The unsettling phrases also comforted my inner soul and made me feel less alone in my agony and self-loathing.

“Hmmph, I actually have him on my list of possible suspects. I haven’t ruled him out yet but I have nothing to go on to lead me to anything concrete. Just call it a cops intuition. His alibis always checked out but there was just something about him I didn’t care for. What do you know about the guy?” “I can’t stand him. He has always had this weird obsession with Aurora. He actually wanted her to enter into a romantic relationship with him when she turned eighteen.” “I was unaware of that. That might have been something you all may have mentioned to us, ya know.” “I’m sorry, sir. He’s a jerk and I hate him but I never saw him as a threat or anything.” “Yeah, that’s the problem. Serial killer

“Nah, not for me. I don’t think clean sends the message. Nobody is terrified by a man who strangled another man or slipped poison in his drink. But they are definitely terrified by a man who dismembers his victims with a blunt chainsaw.” I swallowed thickly and reached for my glass. The wine didn’t help either. “What do you think, Six?” Francesco asked suddenly. “I mean, we have the Terror of Sicily in our midst, and he hasn’t contributed. What kill style do you prefer?” The men cheered in excitement. I set the glass down before my hand could shake. I didn’t need to look up to feel his eyes on me. There was a small silence, and then he spoke. “Yeah, clean kills are efficient if you’re trying

"You said he. How sure are we that the suspect is a man?" Stu frowned. "It seems logical. Most serial killers are male." "Most, but not all." "Okay, I'll give you that one, but you're also talking about someone capable of killing full-grown men. Not just men, but shifters. No offense, but not many women could take one on and win." "But the victims were drugged." "I hardly see them standing still to get injected." "You found proof of a needle?" Stu whirled around and tapped, pulling up an autopsy report. "Back of the neck, a tiny pinprick."

Chris commanded. “You would like that, wouldn’t you? Killing is what you do best. I am so disappointed you pulled this shit, Chris. Trying to use the same tactic I used on you is an all-time low. I thought you serial killers were more creative than that.” Dan replied as his back hugged the wall next to the room they were in.