Comedian Serial Killer Novels & Stories

she sounded skeptical. “No, I think he just feels guilty about almost running me over.” I repied. “How old is he? What’s his name? Does he have any active social media accounts?” “Mari, don’t exaggerate. He’s just a nice person, I’m telling you.” “I know you, you would think a serial killer planning to cut you up and sell your body parts is a nice person.” “I’m pretty sure he’s not a serial killer, but you’re making me paranoid now.”

I brought out my knife, watching his reaction as his eyes widened in fear. "You've heard of me, haven't you?" I asked him, moving closer to him as he moved backwards slowly to a wall, "you know about the famous kid serial killer Harriet. You know how old I was when I had my first kill. I was 8 then. I broke his skull with an abandoned car shaft and dragged his lifeless body as his blood stain the main road and kicked him off the bridge." I narrated, giving him my million dollar psychotic smile as I pinned him against the wall, pressing the knife close to his eyes and drawing circles on his forehead.

she repeated, her voice dropping an octave. I nodded once, my throat going completely dry. The silence stretched between us, and finally, I forced the words out into the open. "Takoda isn't exactly what you think he is," I stated. Harmony stared at me, her eyes widening. Then she pointed a finger toward the front door. "Serial killer," she announced. "What?" I blinked, totally derailed. "He's a serial killer," Harmony repeated confidently, nodding to herself as if things finally added up.

I almost didn’t want to let go. “And how would you know? For all I know, you’re the serial killer. Quiet girl, kind of a loner who seems to know a lot about how a serial killer’s psyche works. You kinda fit the bill.” I thought I taken it too far when she gasped and clutched her chest dramatically but the humorous glimmer in her eyes gave her away. “How dare you sir! If I was a serial killer, and I’m not saying I am, shouldn’t you be trying not to offend me? We wouldn’t want you to wind up on my list, now would we?” she asked.

I feigned ignorance that it was not a good comeback, but my eyebrows shot up in annoyance and my lips tried to choke back a more sarcastic reply, “You sounded like a serial killer there, bud. You need to pace yourself when you meet the ladies." “What? No.” He rubbed his chin and looked me straight in the eyes. “I only kill girls with my smile.” Here we go. “And you can’t go around calling people psychopathic killers.” I stopped myself from gagging at that. “You definitely seem like one of those men I hear about on the late-night news."

I exclaimed angrily. “Calm down…” he interrupted. “He does the same for his murders.” I felt like I had just been slapped by the invisible hands of shock. I could swear I felt that physically. “You mean he takes the personal belongings of people he has killed?” I asked. “That sounds like something only a psychopath would do. What is he? A serial killer?” “No,” he shook his head as he replied. “He doesn't take personal belongings. He takes videos of how he watches them die while he laughs.”

he said mockingly as I stared confused at him. He sat down on a wooden stool opposite me while staring intently at me. "Tell me what you are still doing with that serial killer?" He asked as though he was whispering. "Serial killer?" I couldn't stop myself from asking. "Oh he didn't tell you, Richard Wilson, your so called boyfriend is a serial killer, he is more dangerous than the devil itself" he said with a mocking smile as I shook my head not accepting any of his word. "You are lying, Richard is not that bad, you are lying, I don't want to listen to you" I said not allowing his words to get to me as he suddenly drifted into a wide laughter.

A second later, the lights flickered back on. Both of them blinked against the sudden brightness while rain continued crashing loudly outside the apartment windows. Damian let out a breath. “Okay. Storm. Cool. I was mentally preparing for a serial killer standing behind the shower curtain.” Quinn laughed softly, her forehead resting briefly against his shoulder. “You watch too many horror movies.” “I profile murderers for fun, Quinn. My brain isn’t healthy.” The warmth between them returned almost instantly after that. Easier now somehow. Familiar.