Jeff The Killer Novels & Stories

He had been a promising kid, fast with a blade and loyal to a fault. Now, he was a corpse. In a bid to humiliate him, they sat his body upright, his head lolling back against the chair, his eyes wide and vacant, staring at nothing. "My God, Uncle. Look at his chest," Nathaniel whispered. I stepped closer, my jaw tightening until it ached. Stefan’s designer shirt, once white, was now a deep, matted crimson. But it was what was pinned to the shirt that caught my eye.

"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 lollipop was sweet," Heidi said bitterly. "But it was bitter too. Bitter enough to ruin lives." I ignored the devastated students and left the exam venue with Mom. After we got home, I looked at her curiously. "Mom, why was Jeffrey so obsessed with targeting me? The way he talked at the end didn't seem like simple jealousy over money." That was the part I never understood. Mom handed me a file folder. After I read the documents inside, everything finally clicked into place.

Alfred muttered, "He died by his own hands after Reiss' mother left. Poor thing left with a son to nurse." That was a sad story. It only showed what humans were capable of. Vile creatures who knew nothing but to hurt each other. "That must have broken him, poor soul." Alfred sighed again, "Now, to you. Tell me what's happening." Ah, yes. My sad sob story. I was now dreading having to talk to him about it now. "I found the one I'd been looking for." "What?" Alfred's eyes bulged. "The traitor? You found her?"

"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.

"It was Dr. Monroe who told me to get the medication. She said it was this one. It's all my fault for being too stupid and trusting her. It's all my fault…" Jeremy's eyes burned with hatred as he glared at me. "How dare you call yourself a medical expert? My father is dead because of you! I swear I'll make sure you rot in prison!" Without another word, Jeremy called the police. Soon, several patrol cars arrived at the hospital entrance. As officers prepared to take me away for investigation, I looked at Lindsey and Michael with a sorrowful, almost pitying expression.

Since it displayed Nick as a total, raving lunatic, should he ever come out and talk about THEM, no one would ever believe him anyway. I turn my attention to the most recent string of murders, which will hopefully be the most useful in helping me figure out how to track down this sonofabitch. Thirteen people killed, so far. The first was Susan Baker. Twenty-one. Caucasian. Brown hair. Blue eyes. Five-foot-three. Her body was found, eviscerated, in the middle of Chester Park. Next was Adam Jackson. Forty-five. African-American. Six-foot-two. Found, also eviscerated, in an apartment complex dumpster.

At 11:00 AM, my husband, Silas Vexille, slowly drowned in our indoor thermal pool. At the time, I was having my usual morning tea with the other mafia wives in the estate's back garden. The pool room was directly above the garden, barely a dozen feet away. Originally, if I had gone back to the main house at 11:00 as usual, I would have had plenty of time to save him. But as fate would have it, Victoria Harrison insisted on inviting us over to her nearby home to see her new pink diamond. At 11:20 AM, my daughter April and I pushed open the doors to the pool room. By then, Silas was already gone. At the lavish funeral, I was devastated, fainting several times. The mourners murmured in sympathy

On the day the kidnappers killed my son, I did not cry. I paid top dollar for the best lawyer in the city to argue that the kidnapper was innocent. And once he was free, I signed ten percent of my shares over to him. I also gave him the house my son had loved most. My husband, Alex Thomas, slapped me in front of the press. He called me a cold-blooded monster. People on social media boycotted my company and demanded my family kick me out. I endured every insult and every attack in silence. At the review hearing, I looked at my husband. "I thought you, of all people, would understand me."

she asked him, suddenly afraid. “You, of course,” he said, and smiled. “Why? Who are you?” she asked him. “Jeffrey,” he said, but Kari was still confused. “Your boyfriend killed my brother.” “What are you talking about?” Kari frowned. Kyle didn’t have an older brother, she thought. “Kyle was an only child.” “Interesting. So he’s killed more than once,” Jeffrey said, and she frowned. “I don’t know what you’re talking about!” “George! He killed George, and somehow made it look like an accident!” Jeffrey yelled at her.