Killing Mickey Mouse Novels & Stories

Only needs a hint of sulphur. Mikey throws his hand up, indicating Caden shouldn’t speak. “You don’t need to know the specifics of shit. Dad told ya to kill him. Be a good little lad and make it so,” Mikey snarls, taking his tooth pick and flicking it. Just like he always does, Mikey takes me from calm to flaming pissed off in a matter of seconds. Since I can’t exactly kill him, I teleport myself home and immediately begin pacing. When it's evident I’m going to wear a hole in the floor, I shoot off a text to Declan and ask him to come over. He’s there within a minute, and praise the Goddess… He’s got some intel for me.

My face was screwed up in pain as I swatted away his feeble attempts at attacking me. I could feel him trying to gather the power again. But it was a weakness. It took too long and it was not good for someone who was moving. I ducked under his defense and tore at his leg. He dropped down to one knee and just as he managed to try and shoot whatever the hell his power was at me, my claws dug into his skull. Standing there, my claws imbedded into his forehead, Micah’s power dissipated. Pulling my hand out, I quickly took out a knife and jammed it into his chest, his form disappearing in my hands as he turned to ash.

screamed Mickey. “No, you’re putting words in your own mouth!” Then, at the cusp of it all, Mickey Conan finally broke down crying and screamed at the top of his lungs. “FUCK IT! FINE! I KILLED CHRISTIE!” A drizzle of awkwardness and contempt and awe fell down on them like a thunder cloud. Isaac’s jaws gaped open in a state of shock. Not one time did he expect this in his hundreds of analyses. Mickey started crying like a sprinkler on a lawn. His cheeks were damp and sweat and tears mixed up. He finally spilled the beans.

"O-of course I do. But don't worry, you won't need the second bullet. I'll be done with you the first time. The second one is for my brother." "How good is your aim? Are you sure you can kill me with a single shot? Because now that I know I'm going to die, I want it to be on a single shot." I knew I was playing a childish game and risking my life in it but it was the only option I had. Thankfully Mike was dumb enough to fall for my tricks.

A single bead of cold sweat hung from the point of his thick eyebrow, "just think about what you're doing, Mickey." "Oh shut the fuck up. Why should I listen to you?" Mickey moved forward, moving the gun to my temple. The cool metal was a stark contrast to my heated skin. He then clutched my face in his large clammy hand, squeezing until my lips were pouted, "You were going to use this bitch to do what? Kill me?" He laughed; a loud sound that held zero humor. A tremor rocked my body, fear freezing my spine like ice, "Y-You went through all this trouble j-just to k-kill me..." I hated that my voice shook. Having the gun against my head put things into perspective.

"Where's your watch? Tell me!" Millie couldn't take it any longer. She then grabbed a bowl from the table. Seeing that, Micah and Neil instinctively huddled together, their eyes warily fixed on her. In a flash, Millie slammed the bowl down, shattering it. Micah swung his gun and aimed it at her head. With a single pull of the trigger, he could end her life. "Put it down!" he barked. Yet, deep down, Micah didn't want to kill her. It wasn't worth it for a little money. If he got caught for robbery, he'd be out in 15 days. But pulling the trigger would escalate things.

Butler Fred furrowed his brows in confusion, clearly unsure of what Mickey was about to do, either. "You…" "I never knew that you were the one who killed my mother." Mickey lifted his head to fixate his vengeful gaze on his father's face. "You've always told me that my grandpa, grandma, and mother all died in a fire. "You claim that they had died because of their lack of awareness of fire safety and even told me that the only reason we survived was that they had deliberately chased us out of their barbecue party.

It was me who brought on Micah’s death! My breathing intensifies at the realisation that my blood had triggered the events leading to Micah’s death. ‘Why didn’t you kill me? Why didn’t you drink my blood instead of Micah's!? Why did you have to kill him?’ I scream. ‘I was going for you, but that damn boy got in the way trying to stop me. He knew you were my target. I’d never had such a challenge trying to kill someone before. I knew if I were to taste you, I would have to get through him first, so I did just that. I was going to finish feeding off him, and then it would have been your turn, but then I heard your pack howling nearby after they could hear your screams. That darn wolf boy was h

Flicking them into place, she knelt by the door of the room. "Wait, to kill me?" "Possibly. This one was sniffing around like it was trying to find a place to hide. If it wanted to, it could just burn the whole house down, but they are great for assassinations." "That doesn't make sense," Mike said, checking the window, but it was locked from the inside. He heard stomping above the room, followed by the sight of gray claws on the rain gutter. He opened the window up. "Abella, have you seen anything leave the house?"

Mike heard the sound and turned around, panicking at once when he saw her pale face. "Vicky? Why are you—" Before he could finish speaking, she'd already marched up to him and asked shakily, "What did you just say just now, Mike Tate? Did you… Were you the one who killed Jordan?" She suddenly screamed at him, tears streaming down her face. "You fucking beast, Mike Tate! How could you be so heartless? Why did you have to kill Jordan?" Mike's face went as pale as a sheet. He quickly tried grabbing hold of her hand and said, "No, wait, listen to me, Vicky. It was just for your own good—"