Gorgeous Killer Novels & Stories

Everyone in the underworld knew that name, even if they whispered it like a ghost story to keep the young hitters in line. "Is he really coming?" Martin whispered. "He’s coming," I said. I stood up, feeling the old power surging back into my limbs. "He’s the only man alive who hates the Valaks as much as I do. Maybe more." I walked to the window, looking out at the gray Sicilian sea. "Who is he, Boss?" Marco asked, his voice shaking. "I've heard the stories, but... who is he really?" I turned back, the shadows of the room hiding my face, leaving only the cold, predatory glint of my eyes visible.

“I am scary, aren’t I? I become even scarier when I don’t get my way.” His attention swiftly finds me again once the spirit is left blushing, narrowing his eyes pointedly. “I’ll try it, alright…” I snap, hating it when he looks at me like that. I don't have any other choice. I can delude myself into thinking I'm not a killer then die along with hundreds of others, or I could get over it, and kill Atari like she deserves. “Good. Make it dramatic, will you? She’s had it coming for a very long time," Keo exclaims, not bothering to hide the relief in his voice.

was between 35 years old, but it was the only information there was about him and she didn't investigate further. "Miss, take a seat." The man's voice ordered. Alicia took a seat as ordered and waited for him to turn and look at her. When he did, she saw those dark brown eyes and that mouth, those slightly pink lips. His profiled nose, his face was perfect; he was extremely attractive. He was the son of the old boss. He was Axel Caballero. — Mmm… So, it says here that you are 29 years old and that you have never worked even once in your life. Is that right?

How his glasses had managed to stay on this long was a mystery to me. The biters behind Deli Dude fought to take his spot, and one woman in a pleated skirt tripped, falling face first to the ground. She reminded me of Mrs. Kingsley, my biology teacher. I hated her and science. I took aim at the side of Mrs. Kingsley's head as she struggled to stand. Doing what Grant said, I exhaled slowly and pulled the trigger. Mrs. Kingsley's brains splattered on the ground before she faceplanted.

So maybe it's better that he is not here. “So, here’s the things we know about the killer. Firstly his targets are all renowned and prominent men in our country. Until now he has had three victims. Mr. Arik Watson- 48 years old. Estimated time of death 1st April 2020, 3.30 A.M. He was a prosecutor who won several awards for bringing justice to the people. Dr. Robert Jonson- 54 years old. Estimated time of death 12th July 2020, 3.50 A.M. He was one of the best general surgeons in our country. Mr. James Brown -50 years old. Estimated time of death 23th January 2021, 3.45 A.M. He was the founder and the Chairman of J.B. Garments company.” And with that, Mr. Anderson gave each of his teammates

"One day, it could be you in the crosshairs. Not because of who you are. Because of who I am." She turned. The morning light cut him in two—half the man who'd buried his face in her shoulder last night, half the expressionless killer at the end of the hall. "What? One day you'll shoot me?" The color drained from his face. "I'd sooner put a bullet in my own head." His voice had dropped to something almost inaudible. He didn't finish the sentence. He didn't need to. Her tears fell. She didn't wipe them. She let him see.

I don't have friends - I am not sure if that is something that I should be proud of. Well, it's not like I don't try to approach my classmates or try to interact. It’s just that I have a weird smile. No, it's not the type of smile that involves weird and rotten teeth - I have perfectly white and straight teeth. You see, my smile is fatal and dangerous. Just one look at these weapons and even the ferocious growl of a mountain lion would seem harmless. If this were a comic, I would call this attack: The Killer Smile.

I take the towel from Natasha and head to the river, following Killer. “Oh, come on, it was funny, loosen up,” I tell him as I bend down and dip the edge of the towel in water. He puts Kaleb’s legs in the water and I move closer to him to clean my boy’s face. “And what about mine?” Killer asks as he takes his glasses off. His eyes are a dream, and his chiseled face carved from stone. His surname definitely suits him. My mother used to say, the Stones had stone hearts, and they were hard right until the center. You couldn’t break them, you had to chisel your way through and hope they eventually crumbled, or else you were out of luck.

When she calmed herself, she sighed, becoming sad again, then she raised the knife that flashed in the light, “this is for everyone you have ever caused pain. Let us start with me.” And in one smooth motion, she slit his throat. Blood sprayed across his chest. He tried to speak, but only gurgling sounds escaped his mouth. Karma climbed on the bed and stood over his head, placing her Christian Louboutin heels over his mouth, and with one forceful push down, she matched firmly on the ball in his mouth, causing it to enter his throat. The last thing Marcus saw was his daughter wiping the blade on his shirt, her cold, empty expression never changing.

Go check, Killian ordered. They climbed down the ridge, their boots crunching on the fresh scrap. They found the lead hunter pinned under a fallen pine tree. His arm was twisted at a sickening angle, and his mask was shattered, revealing a face covered in blood and deep cuts. He was gasping for air, his chest wheezing. Killian stood over him, looking down with cold, golden eyes. He didn't look like a businessman anymore. He looked like the monster the King should have been afraid of.