Booktok Murders Novels & Stories

“No way you’re just some girl with a sad story. Where’s the one who melted steel in my hand? Where’s that creature?” My lips parted, but no words came. “I know she’s in there.” His breath brushed my ear, low and lethal. “So either you start talking, or I test how deep I can cut before you stop breathing.” The knife shifted, steel cold, the edge biting against my skin. “What exactly do you want to know?” He didn't reply. I tsked. I tried to push against him once more but that was useless. I let out a shaky breath. “The people who killed me name was my brother, named Marcus Vale. Damon Cross.”

“Just so you know, you’re on conference call again.” “Blue! I knew you were the person for the job. The scene you left for us was postcard-worthy, the agents there had a field day. You were correct, local police have been able to close a lot of cold-case murders. Thank you for the evidence you left us. I’ve got technicians developing what’s on the disposable camera as we speak.” “Which demon was she after?” said Hendrick. “Metanbuchus.” “Holy Hell!”

Milo’s knuckles cracked when he clenched the phone. And then, the third. The South Quarter gym was a front—everyone knew it. Steroids and laundered cash moved through locker rooms like whispers through stained walls. At 11:37 AM, a van pulled up. Masked men with military precision flooded the building. They killed everyone inside. Gregory—the bookkeeper, the quiet man with two kids and a stutter—was found strung up by the pull-up bar, half-burned and carved. Someone had sliced an “I” into his cheek before setting him ablaze.

It's a tiny bookshop, built into what looks like an old alley. A light glows in the front windows, and the area inside is empty. I don't know why, but I feel intensely drawn to it. "Come on." I cross the street without waiting for him. "Come on, where?" Alec jogs to catch up. A swinging sign above the door says "Alley-Bat Books," and the door handle is worn wood. Yanking it open, I embrace the heat that billows out and step into the bookstore. The walls are lined with bookshelves, and the musty smell of paper and ink fills my nose. A chair and small desk sit in one corner, and a few lamps cast a warm glow.

“Happy? You think you can just waltz in here and replace your old life with this fairy tale? You’re deluding yourself. Everything good that happens here is a lie. And I’m going to make sure you see that, murderer.” Murderer ? Me ? I'm not a murder. I was unconscious back then. Though I was the only suspect but ... Murderer.... Murderer.... Am I ? I lost my words but I retorted . "What do you know about me ? You have always believed what you wanted to"! He let out a short laugh " you need a book from the library it catches fire ,you go to have dinner ,the lunch lady is fired your a monster, You are miserable and you ruin everything you touch ."

Louisa muttered slowly once again. Henry, who heard this slowly, suddenly opened his eyes. Staring at Louisa with confused eyes and still in a sleepy state. "Time for what, Babe?" Henry muttered. "The time for George Tomkins' downfall begins." Louisa smiled lopsidedly. *** LATEST INFO! THE KILLER OF JANE MILLER HAS BEEN KNOWN!! IT WAS UNBELIEVABLE THAT THE WOMAN KILLER WAS GEORGE TOMKINS. THE UNCLE OF LOUISA TOMKINS, OWNER OF LONDON'S BIGGEST BOOK COMPANY, TOMKINS HOUSE.

“The fire investigator said that I left my book on the stove and it caught fire. It happens.” “Did you leave a book?” he asked. “I’d never seen the book before,” she explained. “It was called, ‘You’re Next.’ They also found the remains of the rest of the series in the kitchen. Their titles were ‘Dead Man Walking’ and ‘Dead and Deader.’ They weren’t my books.” “He put them there?” he asked. “That’s a heck of a warning.” “Yeah,” she agreed. “So I ran. I know that he’s out there. I think I’m safe for now. I’ve crossed state lines, and I don’t think he has a good way to track me, but...”

And there was a name tied to it all—Marianne Grossman. Leila leaned back in her chair, her mind whirling. Grossman, the cult, the stolen book. It all had to be connected, but to what? And more importantly, why somebody tried to murder her beautiful, harmless aunt?

he asked Karen "Last week while I was still in New Zealand for work" "Yeah and me too last week " I added "Well according to the autopsy no injuries just a bite mark , no blood found her blood had been drained" he said as Karen held her hands over her mouth and muffled a few words obviously in shock " I fucking New it that bastard killed my mum that fucking bastard I'm gonna hunt you down" I yelled "Do you by any chance know anything about her death?" The police man asked "I'm Detective Vanessa I work for the FBI In Newyork to he precise in Newyork these same thing had been happening and I'm the case was handed over to me , I kept on receiving threat notes from the person " I said finally in

My mother, Samantha, believed I was born a liar. Because she was deceived by my father's sweet words in her youth and abandoned after giving birth to me and my sister, Mia, she harbored a deep, bitter hatred for lies. She begged a witch for two magic rings. The rule was simple: if the wearer lied, the ring would glow red and burn them with magic. Mia's ring never hurt her, even when she broke a vase and blamed it on me. But if I simply said, "I'm thirsty," my ring would sear my flesh until I screamed. At first, I tried to defend myself, but Mom would just say, "The ring doesn't lie. Only through repeated punishment can your wicked soul be cleansed." After thousands of burns, even I started t