Gorgeous Killer Novels & Stories

I moved smoothly, landing just in front of them with deadly grace. “Hello,” I called, a smile plastered on my face, serene yet terrifying. “Hello, dear.” “Who the heck are you?” “Your killer," I replied, my voice smooth as silk but cutting as steel. Swiftly, I moved through their group with graceful precision, tearing out their hearts and turning them to ashes without hesitation. I breathed in their screams as they filled me up, satisfaction swelling in my heart. This is fun. I am having more fun than I thought possible. The power coursing through my veins was intoxicating; a dark euphoria I never wanted to end.

"An influencer in our complex just killed someone! The victim was a pregnant woman, and both she and her baby lost their lives!" "I know, right? I just saw the pregnant woman's husband storming toward our building with a kitchen knife!" I had just reached the elevator when I heard several middle-aged women chattering away. I froze for a moment, feeling a phantom pain in my neck where the knife had slashed me. The scene of my brutal death in my previous life felt as vivid as ever.

He looked like a man who had seen a ghost—or a Goddess he no longer had the right to worship. Beside him, Sarah was a splash of garish ruby red. Her dress was expensive, but on her, it looked desperate. Her face was already contorting, the mask of the "perfect Luna" cracking in real-time as she saw the sheer elegance of the woman she had tried to destroy. "Dr. Argentum," Killian breathed as I reached the final step. He didn't look at the elders. He didn't look at his mate. The entire room had ceased to exist for him. "You... you look..."

She looked at the Gorgon, and for the first time, the man in the white suit felt a flicker of genuine fear. "I didn't throw away my shield," Sloane said, her voice a low, vibrating growl. "I chose my weapon." She pulled two frag grenades from her belt and kicked over a heavy equipment crate for cover. "Julian," she whispered, leaning down to press a fierce, salt-tasting kiss to his forehead. "Close your eyes. It’s about to get very dark." As the first explosion rocked the warehouse, the "Killer Wife" unleashed a level of violence that made her time with the Volkovs look like child's play. She wasn't fighting for a Don. She wasn't fighting for a name. She was fighting for the only soul that m

The scar on his eye was angry red. Behind him stood Damian. Her murderer. Her fiancé. Seeing him made Arielle’s blood boil. The Void surged. Kill him, it whispered. Rip his throat out. Arielle clenched her fists. Not yet, she told the monster. Wait. "Lycian," Kaelen said smoothly. He didn't stand up. "You look well." "For a terrorist." Lycian sat opposite him. He didn't touch the tea. "Self-defense, Kaelen."

I remember looking at him walk around on campus. Just staring at him, more like watching him. Like a movie. Wondering how possible it is for gods to walk among mere mortals. He was perfect, tall, and not too dark and oh my, he was just too gorgeous, sexy if I may put it and he had this walk of his that caught every girl’s eye. Okay, he’s not the kind of a guy that I can compare to the likes of John Cena or the handsome Itumeleng Khune, because he had his own unique perfection. Believe me; he looked like he had just walked straight out of a movie scene, a scene where a vigilante rescues the king’s daughter from being devoured by a monster.

Adams growled, showing off his claws. “You're a clown,” Nyx said angrily. “We know about your trafficking ring, and the horrible things you've been doing.” “I will kill you, but before I do, I'd like to know who you are,” he said, and when I grew tired of the same question. The red glistening seems to be all they have to see to know that I am Kieran. “I can't wait to go down in history as the man who killed the great Kieran.” He smirked.

He asks. "I just know this." I tell him looking him right in the eyes. "I'm not afraid of you.' "Then you are foolish." he growls, "I.am Kaden Delacourt. The Primordial hybrid. Destroyer of packs and bringer of death. I killed my own mother and father. Tortured my siblings for eternity. Destroyed countless packs, slaughtering anyone that dared to stand in my way and yet you say you don't fear me? Do I scare you now?!" He growls, snarling his teeth at me.

The corner of my mouth curled. "Are you done?" I said in an icy voice, and his grip trembled. And this time, I made sure he saw it in my eyes. The death he feared, looking back at him with nothing but quiet amusement. Because the only thing more dangerous than a killer... ...is a killer with something to live for.

soldiers never died. Some were agents skilled in disguise, others were forensic specialists who could fake a corpse. The gory crime scenes were nothing more than Hollywood-grade special effects. Except for Enzo. He knew he had a terminal illness and was living on borrowed time. He used his last breath to stage that gruesome suicide in front of the whole world, just to push public fear and outrage to its peak. As for Dr. Sterling, the psychologist who jumped into the lake. He was the father of one of the kidnapped boys, and the architect of this psychological warfare.