Comedian Serial Killer Novels & Stories

All right, let’s start over. My name is Sarah Killian, and I am a professional serial killer. No, goddammit, I am not a mother-fucking assassin, goddammit. Sorry. Again. That was my Tourette’s. I just have issues with assassins. They’re jackasses. Every. Single. Last. One. Jackasses. Let’s just say that it’s no coincidence the word starts with two asses, because one ass is not enough for those douche bags.

He grabbed my fist as he pulled me closer to him, hugging me tighter. "Asshole," I whispered sarcastically. "Do I look like someone who kills?" I stared on his sandbar eyes. It was hella captivating. He was like a predator that could easily catch his prey. "Might be." I shrugged. "Serial killers are charismatic." "I'm charismatic, huh." He smirked as he wiped his thumb on my lips. I gulped, my throat felt dry. "As if it's your first time getting that word." "It's the first time I heard it from you. It sounded a lot better from your voice."

I shouldn’t have skipped my session. “Everyone but me,” I say, tone flat. He lifts a brow, I shrug. T is self-made and attained success early. Big deal. I had so much to my name at that age. The media claims he is kind because he donates to numerous charities but it doesn’t make him likeable. It might be part of his game plan. Serial killers have been known to be nice right before they turn on their victims. He doesn’t fool me. “You like him too?”

MONIQUE His voice cracks slightly. “You could come to me right now and tell me you’re a serial killer and....” “That’s too far,” I cut in, narrowing my eyes. “Please don’t tell me you’re a serial killer too.” He laughs suddenly. A real laugh, even through the tears. “I’m not,” he says quickly, still chuckling as he wipes his face. “I’m just saying I’d be shocked. I don’t know… maybe I’d try to get you help for your evil need.....”

Ladies, gents, and all genders included, allow me to introduce you to Senator Schaumer who has mastered the art of committing the perfect murder. He did it once, twice, three times! (to my knowledge, there could be more) And yet, he has never been suspected of wrongdoing. I dare say at this point that he is a serial killer and a psychopath and we must ask who is next on this horrendous murder spree of his.

“I'm in a coma. You know, Mr. Sadist, you better bring out the food because I'm famished. I'm done with your crap and I can’t wait to feed you to a croc!” “Do you think you can?” “I'm not a killer. I’m just scaring you. My oh my, killing is a waste of a good life. Right?” I stood up and stretched my limbs again. Okay, let's do a homily first since the guy didn’t know a thing about normalcy. I approached his sofa and sat down. Were we close? Nah, if he came to me earlier, I’d come to him if I wanted to. I stared at him but he didn't look at me. Seriously, all this fuss because of an ID?

"I heard shes the daughter of Ryan Sparks, a business tycoon and a billionaire. Her mother is Lenna Sparks the famous fashion designer" "I heard she sent one of her last classmate to the ICU who was trying to harass her" "I heard she was always sent to jail" "I heard she beat up a police officer" "I heard she's a serial killer" "Yeah. She's bad news" "Fuck. I think i peed on my pants" I wanted to laugh. Rumors do travel fast. Most of them were true. But the 'serial killer' part was hilarious. Seriously? A serial killer? If only murder wasn't a crime.

Don’t get me wrong, I completely understand that we are very much a part of the business they did want in the first place so they have to keep up appearances and make themselves known. If anyone of my guys should be feared it would be Dante. He’s the jokester, the fool everyone thinks can’t be serious. Dante’s imagination and fascination with mid-evil torture divides a gore makes him one of those people who would take enjoyment out of watching someone slowly bleed out while watching them suffer until he gets his answers.

His hand keeps absently stroking along my arm as he grins. “Those two, I swear… Jeff’s probably got the whole goddamn force out looking for me by now. I might’ve actually given him a reason for thinking I've got a secret murder basement or something now.“ He gives me a sidelong glance,amused. “You probably don't think I'm a serial killer, do you?“ “Why would you say that?” He pauses, realizing that maybe making a joke about serial killers probably isn't the best move. He huffs out an embarrassed little laugh and rubs a hand over the back of his neck.