Killing Kennedy Novels & Stories

"I brought some of Ivy's photos. Do you want to see them?" He hesitated. He looked unsure how to refuse. I pretended not to notice his discomfort. Slowly, I reached inside my jacket. I didn't take out any photos. I took out a syringe. Raymond reacted quickly, trying to step back at once. His eyes went wide. His voice trembled as he asked, "What are you..." I was faster. I had rehearsed this moment in my mind a thousand times. The syringe pierced his neck. He only got half his words out before his body went limp.

I had been married to Caleb for so many years, and it was bad enough that he schemed against me, but I couldn't believe that he would be so heartless toward my mom, too. When my mother-in-law, Carol Brown, came to visit me at the hospital, the nurse informed her of my death. If anyone in that house ever cared about me, it would be Carol. The nurse sighed in sympathy. "Her stomach cancer was finally cured, but because her family had urged her to donate her kidney, she didn't make it and passed away in the end. Poor thing! She even had a baby in her belly…" Yes, my poor little baby didn't even get to see this world before they left.

Sunny slapped as he kicked her in the abdomen and dragged her across the ground and tied her to a tree branch this time with her hands behind her. “So where were we?” Sunny said as he picked up his gun “First your sweet sister… then mommy dearest and then one by one your friends and now you Zara!” Sunny said as he let out a creepy chuckle “Because of you so many people were killed. I couldn’t help it. It’s not like I can leave behind so many witnesses…right Zara” Sunny said as if it was Zara’s fault for having so many people around her. “Then it was Miguel and Kenneth. When Rocky left for your room, I killed your Uncle Ken and Miguel and dressed Miguel in my hood and mask. Then planted his d

After a thorough investigation by the production team, the details of my past were quickly uncovered. They also confirmed with the relevant authorities that I had, in fact, already passed away. "Three years ago, Nicolas Soros died on a snowy night—frozen to death because he couldn't afford hospitalization. "It wasn't until the autopsy that the coroner discovered that what looked like a thick down jacket… didn't even contain real padding. And that was already the most expensive piece of clothing his mother had ever bought for him. With discounts, it cost less than five dollars.

*I'd sooner put a bullet in my own head. She'd watched his face when he said it. The color had drained from him. Not the controlled pallor of a man calculating risks. Something else. Something that looked, for one impossible second, like fear. She'd seen him kill a man. She hadn't seen him afraid. Until now.

The news of Zachary's dismissal and the police investigation swept through Coastal City's high society like a hurricane. As a result, the Warren Group's stock price plummeted, and panic spread through the company. Zachary managed to use what little connections he had left to buy off a few media outlets and hold an online press conference. On camera, he looked haggard and broken, his eyes swollen red as he cried dramatically to the audience and staged the performance of a lifetime. "Everyone, I am devastated by the tragic death of my son. But all of this was a conspiracy!"

Enough that he could feel it, could understand that I was absolutely serious. Kennedy began pleading immediately, his voice high-pitched and panicked and pathetic. “Okay! Okay, I’ll sign! I’ll sign the papers!” he babbled, his words tripping over each other in his haste to get them out. “Please, just—just don’t kill me! I’ll sign them! I’ll do whatever you want!” I smirked, a cold expression that had nothing to do with humor and everything to do with satisfaction. I removed the knife from his throat slowly, deliberately, letting him feel every inch of the blade sliding away from his skin. A thin red line marked where it had been, a small trickle of blood running down to stain his collar.

Nicholas lowered his head as the memory of all that happened to him the previous day flooded his mind. Mr. Hemsworth's eyes narrowed as he asked, gazing intently at his son, "Who shot at you? Who was the person that tried to kill you?" Nicholas remained silent. He didn't want to mention Kennedy's name; he feared what might happen if he did. He would be a dead man. Kennedy would be difficult to find, and if he as much as sniffed that Nicholas had ratted him out, he would stop at nothing until he kills him. Wasn't he already a dead man? Nicholas frowned.

A long pause, the longest then, "The ambulance transporting your mother had been involved in an accident." Shannon froze. Kennedy nodded slowly. "I saw the reports, I saw the footage. I saw the news." His jaw clenched. "They told me she died." Tears finally escaped again. "And they told me my daughter died too." The room became deathly quiet. For a moment neither spoke then Kennedy laughed softly, a broken laugh. "Funny thing is..." His gaze lifted toward Shannon. "I saw your mother's body but I never saw yours. The doctors gave explanations. They said the condition was complicated, they said there was nothing left for me to identify."

“Exactly! Something that everyone knows, but is not clear, such as: who killed Kennedy? I know you were not born at that time and suddenly you won’t know ...” “Someone they never caught,” Joseph responded immediately. Mark looked at him in surprise, as did the rest of those present. “What do you say, son?” Hansen asked, intrigued. “Can you know things like that?” “Not everything, Dad, just what my Father lets me know. The names I don't know, but what I am sure of is they were never caught.” “They caught?” Mark asked. “Was it more of a shooter?” “Yes, those who fired were two, but those who planned it were many more. None were caught, and neither will they. They are all already dead.”