Criminal Minds The Performer Mga Nobela at Kwento

“Your honor, my client truly felt that he was helping these women conquer their innermost demons. He sacrificed his time and knowledge to solve their problems. I believe he was wrongly accused of these crimes and misunderstood. What you have to ask yourself is why. Why would my client want to separate these women from their families? Unless he truly believed that they were unsafe and dangerous. Should he be punished for doing his job? If that is true then why don't we let out all the criminals. Because they must not be sick right? Your honor, what we are going to do is prove that my client was just doing his job.” “Prosecution's your opening statement.” “Time, it seems so fleeting. Until it'

We wrestled against them as they dragged us into the spotlight despite our muffled screams and their cursing. Apparently, Madam Cumberbatch was in the business of sex trafficking hybrids to high-ranking gang members of the slums. Due to their dual species, they were declared to have more abilities than those with ordinary genes. It was my leaf-shaped ears that caused this big calamity. I wasn’t a hybrid but they believed otherwise. It was one huge misunderstanding. “Start the fucking auction!” An impatient man yelled and the rest of the room erupted in murmurs and complaints. Something wrenched inside of me and I drew in a rattling breath. I kept my head bowed slightly but took in every deta

I treated Anton Devereux, the high-profile arsonist who burned two houses with people inside and smiled through sentencing. I evaluated Marcus Hale, the schizophrenic hitman who spoke to his knives more than to me. I counseled Julien Koss, the serial strangler who braided victims’ hair postmortem because “they looked prettier that way.” I even spent eight months treating the Stonemarrow Butcher, the man who carved sigils into his victims’ skin as “proof of devotion.” I’ve stared into the eyes of men who believed God spoke through their bloodshed. I’ve been locked in a room with men who killed without blinking, who confessed their crimes with the same casual tone others use to order coffee.

I broke into a run, by the time I reached the lecture hall, my chest was tight and my hands were shaking, but I didn’t turn back, I didn’t look for him, I didn’t give myself the chance to hear whatever excuse he was ready to throw at me. “Rough morning?” I dropped into my seat, barely glancing at the girl beside me. “You could say that.” The room quieted as Dr. Nathaniel Carter walked in, placing his notes neatly on the desk. “Today we’ll be discussing criminal psychology in high-risk offenders,” he said, scanning the room. “This is not just theory. This is a real-world application.” “Melissa.” I straightened slightly. “Yes, sir?” “What motivates individuals in organized crime?” Dr. Carter a

She needed to get in contact with the cops; she needed an update about Helena's case, or else she would lose her mind. “Detective Sergio,” she whispered as she typed in their local browser. Alice waited for a couple of seconds before it fully loaded. However, instead of the detective’s profile, news articles about the Roccos’ murders appeared. Alice’s body went cold as she opened the first article that appeared on the site. It was the same old story about Vivien and Roger killing the Roccos, and so she easily scanned through those, not bothering to read. She stopped at the end of the site where a link to a video was placed.

Victim of His Obsession By: bleed4more Prologue I really don’t think that I will be in this situation. I wasn’t prepared for this, I knew to myself that I’m not that good to be admire this much. I never wanted to be like this, to become a fool by myself. My name is Xencia Enclovia Morcos, I am being rejected by anyone. Trying to fit in, but it doesn’t suit me. Insecure, judge by the others, low level woman and a no one. That’s how I see myself.

It was just a gnawing, inescapable curiosity. What makes a man like that? What breaks inside you so completely that you become capable of abduction, assault, murder, and manipulation? His performance was so convincing that his own brother didn't see it coming. How could anyone not realize that they were dealing with a fucking psycho? The press was going to have a field day with this. The lawyers would tear each other apart. Olivia might survive this, but she'd never be the same. And Ethan would have to carry this night like a scar for the rest of his life.

Zarion’s POV I found myself submerged in a terrifying haze. A realm where reality melded with the darkest corners of my mind. And in the depths of that distorted reality, I stood over a figure, my hands locked around her throat. A face flashed within my consciousness, etching itself into the fabric of my thoughts—a face belonging to a girl…a girl I once loved. Cassidy—her name’s Cassidy. As my grip tightened, a surge of inexplicable guilt rippled in my chest, rendering me unable to carry out the malevolent act that my instincts beckoned me to commit. I staggered backward, my chest heaving as my body protested against the violence that had threatened to consume me.

She finally looks up, and I see the pain in her eyes. "I betrayed everyone I loved. Not just once. For five years. Every day." Her voice cracks. "I don't expect forgiveness. I don't deserve it. But you deserve to know the truth about who I am." She steps away quickly, and Chris takes her place. "I'm Chris Morgan," he says, and I hear the steadiness in his voice. "Ten years ago, I was a criminal. I laundered money for organized crime. I hacked financial systems. I stole millions of dollars."

I pushed myself off the table and walked toward him slowly. My footsteps echoed in the empty warehouse. “This shouldn’t take long,” I said calmly. The man coughed suddenly, while blood spilled from his mouth as he bent forward, struggling to breathe. “That is,” I continued, “if you cooperate.” The man slowly lifted his head, his eyes barely open. He looked terrified. Good. Fear made people honest. “Who sent you?” I asked, my voice was calm, almost bored. The man swallowed painfully. “I’ve already told you,” he muttered weakly. “I’m just a petty thief. I saw a rich woman walking alone and thought she would be easy to rob.”