Killing Me Softly Novels & Stories

"Could you… Could you drop the charges? I'll handle Maya. I will deal with this myself. "We grew up together. I cannot watch her go away like this." I looked at him. The cold went through to my eyes. "Watch her go away. You think she is salvageable." I pulled my phone out and brought up another video. Late at night. Maya was creeping around the kitchen of my house. She tipped a packet of something into my milk on the counter. I had been pulling our home cameras for the divorce. I had not expected to find this. My voice was raw. My hand was shaking.

I pulled my sweater back over my head and stepped back into my pants, slow, the way you move through a house at the end of a life you are no longer going to live in, and when I was dressed I sat down on the edge of the coffee table because my knees were not entirely ready for standing yet. The Verdict Killer was in the armchair. The mouth of the mask was still lifted. He was watching me not with the surgical surveillance from earlier in the night, but with a softer, lower-wattage attention, a man letting a woman come back into her own body at her own pace. "Saoirse." "Yes." "You are going to be asked questions in the next three days. Listen to me." I listened.

This scene will be raw, fast-paced, and will escalate the danger Aria now realizes she’s in not just emotionally, but physically. The gunshot was silent. Just the crack of glass and the whistle of a bullet slicing through air. Killian shoved her down before Aria even realized she’d moved. She hit the hardwood floor hard, her ribs screaming, her ears ringing. The sound of splintered glass rained behind her. “Stay down!” Killian barked. He was already moving one hand under the table, pulling out a matte-black handgun, the other grabbing a laptop and yanking cords loose in one fluid motion. Smooth. Trained.

"If you hadn't egged me on, I wouldn't have done that," Marina screamed. "It was you. You killed Caitlin. You're the murderer." Anthony suddenly laughed, smacking himself. He wasn't holding back. I could see his cheeks swell up red even from a distance. He dropped to his knees. "You're right. I killed the woman who loved me. Her blood's on my hands. I'm a murderer." I rolled my eyes, and he pulled out his wedding ring, which he had taken off since Marina showed up.

He went on, kissing her soft mouth tenderly, trying to erase her pain, “Call me Finn, babe. St. Just is a mouthful.” Suddenly, she was weeping, unable to control her tears. He held her wrapped in his arms as she wept. But his heart almost skipped a beat when she raised her tear-washed eyes to him and whispered, “Finn, do you…do you think they wanted to…wanted to kill me?”

It’s just a flicker of power but…it’s still power. “Got you,” I grinned at myself and clicked the gun. The silver bullets are waiting to dive deep in their flesh, making Hestia and Aneliesse gasp in their place. Boom— Blood flowed from Hestia’s companion. Analiesse was shot by me. Her shriek echoed in the sleepy forest. My hands were shaking from anticipation to kill them both. But not yet. Hestia stood there, her defiant smirk like a spark igniting the embers of my unmatched fury. “No,” it was all she muttered.

And now she’s gone, and I’m left with nothing but the weight of my own choices. I hate that I care about her, I hate that she is hurt because of me, I hate that we are a team, I hate that the fact that she makes me soft, I hate how my men are slowly noticing how soft I am, I hate how she is perfect; a mixture of darkness and light.

Confusion flitted all over his face as he lifted his head up from the gun that just collided with his feet and looked up at me, "What..what do you want?" I leaned forward in my seat, "I want you to give me an answer to my question," I started, confusion twisted my brow as I asked, "Why can't I kill you? " He looked taken aback by my words, he looked lost. My head tilted, "Why do I keep making up excuses just so I don't kill you?" I backed into my seat and placed my hands in my sweater's pockets and my brow quirked up, questioning, "How can I care about someone like you?"

into my ears, I felt cold and wondered who the next victim was gonna be. Dave died the previous day from an asthma attack which everyone thought but I knew it wasn't. How could I tell anyone that I could see their deaths without sounding delusional? "I'm crazy, this isn't real, please don't let it be" I screamed as I found the right words to express my dilemma. She laughed hysterically and the room echoed. Touching my face, I could feel how cold her hands were as she sheepishly said "It's gonna last forever, this is a blessing don't see it as a curse, you've been blessed with a power that no one could ever imagine".

I was wrong “ Let me go” She shouted as I carried her with me. I held her tight that she could not move for a moment “ I want to kill her. She killed my son. I want her dead” She kept on shouting that I had to hold her with one hand and keep my other hand on her mouth “ Let me go” she kept of producing muffled sounds but I knew what she was talking about