Kill Pop Novels & Stories

Her laptop glowed in front of her, a burner email client open, cursor blinking like a silent dare. She hadn’t sent a message to a ghost in years. And that’s what Killian was a ghost. According to the database she cracked into using one of Nova’s tools, the PO box listed to his name hadn’t been checked in over six months. His last financial footprint was a wire transfer to an offshore NGO. No public photos. No social media. Nothing but silence. Until last week. A flagged report from a private surveillance firm noted a sighting: Killian, near the Upper West Side, stepping into a building owned by a shell company one linked to Vale Corp’s abandoned real estate division.

Since I had distributed everyone's admission tickets myself, I knew exactly where their exam rooms were. As I ran, I planned how to shatter their storyline. Firstly, it was a sweet romance novel. The female lead, Rachel Sharp, was supposed to be a naive yet brilliant top student. The male lead, Timothy Handler, was the cold, domineering school tyrant. Their character settings defined the tone of the story, and were exactly what made readers ship them. The first step was to destroy their character settings. After settling my thoughts, I steadied myself. Then, without hesitation, I grabbed a fire extinguisher from the hallway cabinet and smashed it straight into the glass window of Timothy's e

Whatever was going on did not concern me in any way. “What do you mean by you are not in the country? Eejit!” Killian hissed. “I can't use water. The drug is very potent. I feel like—fuck!” Killian cursed and he slumped against the car seat. He grabbed a fistful of his hair. “She's not an option. Fuck off.” Killian hissed and then the phone ended with a beep. “Are you going to die?” I asked in a low and careful voice. Killian did not look good at all. He seemed like someone who was going to die.

The killer giggled, "Have fun being delusional ~" ~ KL •Season One• R18GB

_*]:min-w-0 gap-3"> POV: Dual, Khyle and Gunner _*]:min-w-0 gap-3"> _*]:min-w-0 gap-3"> Nearly two hours later Gunner was slamming the button home, taking Khyle out with head shot after head shot in the fiercest first person shooter game they'd played yet. _*]:min-w-0 gap-3">

Callum whispered beside me, recognizing the name. There was a pause on the line. “Ana is dead.” I didn’t even feel the phone slip from my fingers. My blood ran cold, goosebumps prickling across my skin. The world blurred around me as those words echoed in my skull What the fuck.

Declared the Loudspeaker, making all of us turn to the way we came in, "Straight down the hall, you will find your living quarters. In each of your rooms will be a detailed explanation of what you are all going to be participating in." "Why do we need a tutorial for fucking murdering?!" Poppy finally spoke, seeming very panic stricken. "As for motivations," The speakers went on, ignoring Poppy's concerns, "I will be personally giving out motivations that will make you all want to kill." "How can you be so sure of that? We all have different views on things!" Joseph rebutted.

she told him looking worried “Hey, your brother mentioned something about your limited knowledge about this place, how long have you been here?” “About a year or more, I can’t tell anymore" she looked him straight in the eyes “it wasn’t easy getting to this place". “I ......-" he waited for a customer to pass by before he continued in a lowered voice “I wanted to know, that first guy we killed-" “You mean YOU killed" she cut him off “Ok" he sighed “the one I killed, he called me something, he called me Jhin I think, is that my name or is that even a name”

How did the wind blow it over when it was so heavy? Soon, my consciousness began to fade, and my eyelids grew heavier. I slowly collapsed into the pool of blood, my heartbeat slowing as time passed. I could feel my vitality slipping away. Before I died, I managed to dial a number, and I heard the sound of the door unlocking from the fingerprint lock. I assumed it was Harvey, but my eyelids no longer could stay open, fluttering shut eventually. But at my very last moment, I heard a phone ringing—and it was gradually closing in.