I Am Not A Serial Killer Novels & Stories

I shrug my shoulders and try to say jokingly because I really don’t want to get on this guy’s bad side. Just then, I hear the sirens and then the cops pull up outside. He looks back at me and then says quickly, “Come on. Let’s go out the back. I was told not to make a scene if I could help it.” Following closely behind him, I agree because the last thing I need is another charge on my record. They already want me for so many murders it isn’t funny. Matter of fact, I think it is odd that I am considered a serial killer when I have never killed any human in my life that wasn’t a bad guy.

Ally shrugged taking in another cookie. "Did they catch the killer or at least find the murder weapon?" I asked, handing the phone back to Ally whilst a dark shiver darted down my spine. Why kill someone and with that much cruelty no less. "No, sadly he is still out there. The police don't want to classify him as a serial killer since it seems it was just a personal vendetta, but if he kills again…" Kathy trailed off shaking her head whilst leaving the sentence hanging. "They won't find him," Ally muttered, "and he will kill again," she added finishing her cookie.

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.

I pleaded. "Well that depends are you a serial killer and am I your next victim?" he asked, I wasn't even sure where to start. "A serial killer? Do I look like one?" I asked "Well you can never know, and you know the U.S. has the highest number of active serial killers so you can't be too careful." I thought "Well I'm not a serial killer please, why would someone want to kill you?" "Why do they kill any of their victims we never know" he replied

There were around twenty or more. “W-what do you take me for?” I raised my voice, refusing to believe that I have to kill again just to make a living. “Do you think I’m some sort of serial killer? A murdering machine who has no heart? Do you think that I’m merciless and a walking psychopath?” I consecutively questioned him. I crumpled the paper and then threw it directly at his face, which he elegantly avoided. I stood up from my seat, attempting to leave the place, but Austin spoke to prevent me from leaving.

But not even an inch he could move. "Please don't hurt anyone here. You can do anything to me" Annie shouted with her sobs. She just can't witness any other death in front of her eyes. Already recollecting her memories is the worst feeling and she is shivering to death as if her parents been murdered in front of her just now. Now seeing her hippo in the same condition made her heart bleed. "That's like a good girl. I am not an evil person you know? I will just kill you and rest can live peacefully" with that Kinshuk neared her with a gun while she shut close her eyes in horror. Nothing can save her now.

"This is someone sending a message, showing what they're capable of. It's not about the victim—it's about the audience." Gasps ripple through the small crowd. "Thank God it's not my vigilante then," a guy says nervously. "They're both murderers," I snap, frustrated. "One doesn't get a pass just because his methods are cleaner." The mood shifts immediately. Several people glare at me, clearly not appreciating my refusal to romanticize a serial killer. Before anyone can respond, I grab my bag and stand. "I'm leaving." I push through the library doors into the cool night air, my heart still racing from the conversation. Something about this murder feels wrong. The timing, the brutality, the—

And just like that, he walks away, leaving me in a million pieces. I like to say I’m a calm person. Sometimes I swear I’m the most level-headed person I know. All my family are maniacs. My sisters, my brothers. My parents. I’ve always been the one bailing people out of prison. I’ve been the designated driver during college wild night parties. I’ve been the cover-up story for my friends in high school. Yeah, everyone claimed they were spending the night at Julie’s house. Because their parents knew I’m a decent person. But for the first time in my life, I think I want to kill someone.

It’s a serial killer’s work, the paper says. Ahrio’s knees weakens when he realizes what kind of man his dad is. He didn’t murder just one person and he didn’t do it for the first time last night. Although just once is not a good excuse for committing murder, Ahrio did not expect for his dad to be a cold-blooded, merciless serial killer.

“My business is simple, I have clients who are looking for a specific type of person and I send it to them for a price. Whatever they do to them is a mystery and I couldn’t care less.” “Clients? What clients?” “Serial killers who doesn’t want to get caught, Psychos with the sickest fantasies. I send them what they are looking for to fulfill their desires.”