Idol Killer Novels & Stories

She misled me into thinking that they were her biological parents, and that was why I did what I did! "Madelyn's the true culprit!" Her voice grew louder as if volume could prove that I was the one who killed Lora. I looked at her with cold ridicule. "So if they were my parents, would they have deserved to die at your hands? "For days, I warned you again and again that Lora's allergic to shrimp, and you deliberately made shrimp ravioli. That's intentional murder! "Besides, I repeatedly reminded you that they're Josh's parents, but you wouldn't believe me."

And now she’d be under my roof. Living with my wife. Scarlett didn’t suspect a thing. But for how long? The monster inside me… it hadn’t been tamed. Just quiet. And the house we lived in was no longer a home. It was a minefield. Ticking with secrets. Waiting to explode. *Ivy* I don’t know why I did it. Or maybe I do. Maybe I’ve always known. I killed Ana. And now I can’t stop hearing her. Her screams, her cries, the panic in her voice. It loops in my mind, haunting me. That blank, bloody stare—wide open, lifeless.

“Sarcasm is my defense mechanism, so…shut up.” One corner of his mouth twitched up. “I should punish you for that.” “Yeah, Mr. Killer, what are you going to do?” “Hmm.” He looked around the room as he tried to come up with something. “I could fuck you.” “Pfft, that’s no punishment.” “No, but I just killed five guys and now I want to fuck your brains out.” My brow scrunched. “Is that a side effect?” “I guess you could call it that.”

Khalid let out a ragged breath. I know how hard it is to talk about this. But Khalid has to say it. There cannot be any doubt left in these people’s minds. They need the truth, and only he can give it to them. “I don’t care who here thinks I chose wrong. Sakina Adio was a monster, and I did what a hunter does. I killed the monster.” “I believe you!” A voice called out as a man around Khalid’s age came forward from the group of hunters. That one voice turned to others nodding or calling out their support of Khalid.

"That scar has to be fake! You just want me to be your scapegoat! You're jealous because Mom and Dad always loved me more, so now you're scheming to get me killed." Seeing Emma crying in his arms, Noah grabbed me by the hair and dragged me in front of her, forcing me to confess. "Anna, you were the killer, yet you have the nerve to frame Emma. You evil woman! Apologize to Emma! Maybe then I'll put in a good word with the cops!" Noah's grip was strong, causing my scalp to ache terribly, but it couldn't compare to the pain of being slashed to death in my previous life. I looked up at the two of them viciously, laughing in exasperation.

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 could not meet his eyes. “So it is,” he said, voice breaking. “You’re really doing this to us because of her? Skye, she’s gone. She died when you were nineteen. You’re twenty-four now. That was five years ago—” “But her killers are still out there walking free,” I cut in. My voice shook hard and rose. “They didn’t die like my mother. The system did nothing. She was the only parent we had. We never even knew our dad. You know the whole story. Every night I close my eyes and I still see her face. I still hear her voice telling me to be strong. And you think I can just accept it and move on? Never! I can’t sleep knowing they’re laughing somewhere while she’s in the ground.”

None of them had gotten it right. The real thing standing in my doorway, catching the light from my hall lamp was something else entirely. It was not costume. It was not theater. It was a specific, intentional, centuries-old object, and it was being worn by a man who had chosen it the way a man chooses a signature. The Verdict Killer was standing in my living room. I want to be precise about what that meant. Because if you live outside this city, or if you don’t read the tabloids, or if you don’t listen to the podcasts — you might think he was just one more name on one more news cycle.

"Please! Don’t kill me! I have a family!" "Oh, I know. You have a lovely wife and such adorable kids." "Don’t you dare touch my wife! You sick monster!" I chuckled coldly. "I’m not the monster here. you and I both know who it is." "Did Moretti send you?" "Bingo! We got a winner here! for the prize, do you want me to shoot at the heart or head? Your choice but please hurry my schedule are pack to kill people." "You are a sick woman!" he spits to my face. I wipe it with the back of my hand. "Now that’s not nice," I said in my deadly tone. I cock my gun and aim it at the heart but then again interruption.

He was a murderer, a murderer of women, who before killing he cut a lock of their hair, they were blonde or brown, brown, he did not have a specific taste, The midnight killer, the newspapers began to announce, was on the front page of THE SUN newspaper. A man read with interest what was published in the newspaper, he had on his work table many knives and scalpels, a hacksaw, bottles of chloroform and various substances for the preservation of corpses. He put the diary aside, he needed to be careful, he couldn't raise suspicions, people were terrified, they even believed in vampires and other fantastic creatures, like the fairy Banshee, he laughed to himself.