Killing Stalking Author Novels & Stories

“It’s a high, Alissia. Watching them walk through their day, not knowing you’ve been in their house, touched their things, read their messages. You see their secrets—the things they wouldn’t tell anyone. And in that moment, you own them, because they can’t hide from you.” I shiver, not from the cold, but from the intensity of his words. There’s something disturbingly erotic about the way he talks about stalking, like it’s not just a game to him but an intimate connection with his target. The thrill he gets isn’t about love—it’s about domination. About power.

Blood was everywhere; Nathan’s eye socket was visible, the hall of eyes was not there anymore, Nathan wasn’t moving; he was breathing, but he wasn’t moving. The stalker looked so angry that it felt like he still wasn’t satisfied with what he had done. He plunged the knife into Nathan’s stomach and took it up to his chest; the sound of flesh tearing and blood gushing was audible, the pain was too intense. Nathan was shaking abnormally now before he stopped; his chest wasn’t heaving up and down anymore; the knife was still in his chest; he had given up on fighting. Nathan was dead; the stalker killed him. I couldn’t feel anymore; my throat hurt from too much shouting. I felt my body slump; I w

I took him to an alley and ran a rusty pipe in his stomach. Again the book was taken away, by Ethan this time who read another entry. (I tried to get over Chelsea, because clearly I wasn't good enough for her. But this dumb bitch with her fake hair was a pretender. She wasn't rich, and she had a child, which she never told me about. I had to tell her to stay away from me because I didn't want to take care of another man's offspring. After killing her mother while she watched, I threw both of them off a building.)

She cursed the tears that had made her miss her way so… cursed the entire town and the day she ever set foot in it. Natalie had always thought Clarksville was bad— and to be honest, it was, but at least she could deal with the things that happened to her over there, Being bullied and being the town outcast seemed to be nothing when placed in comparison to having a stalker watch your every mood while claiming you as his! Oh Natalie, but what makes you think it’s a man? Her subconscious mocked darkly, drawing a shiver out of the young, scantily-clad woman. She didn’t even have time to contemplate if her shivering had to do with her thoughts or with the chilly nature of her surroundings, for sh

"Did you? I found out that you are not alone, am I right?" "I’m not. They showed up at my doorstep unannounced." "So it will be easier for you to kill Chase because you have a backup. But why is it taking so long to just kill him?" "He has a lot of guard around him and it’s hard for me to get close to him." "Then use your charms." "I did but he-"

I hastily jammed my windows and latched the hook. I wore my sandals and cleaned the beads of sweat that had gathered on my forehead. No, way! I remembered this book, Nicole's walls by Godwin Hosanna Aga and this was how the stalking started, but Nicole couldn't tell anyone what she was going through because– I shook the thought out of my head and forbade it. I was not going to be a victim of stalking, never! My thumbs scrolled through my contact list and tapped on Tristan the moment it came into view.

The pieces started to fall into place, and the stalker's motives became clear. With the evidence in hand, we confronted the stalker, ready to put an end to their reign of terror. The encounter was tense, filled with confrontations and revelations. It was a battle of wills, as we fought to reclaim our lives and bring justice to those who sought to destroy us.

The climate reminded me of the day he died. Damon's words echoced in my head like a track. I hated Mason. I wanted to kill him. I have been given the offer on a golden platter, but now i don't know why I am hesitating to do it. I had a kill streak of five hundred bodies. Mason should be an easy cake. But I don't know why a part of me is shaken. I heard foot steps behind me and I already knew who it was. He had a thing for stalking me.

“We have a surveillance van outside of my school, and they wouldn’t have known he was there if I didn’t call Josh and tell him that the man was there, and he touched me.” “He touched you? Did he hurt you?” “No, he just grabbed my wrist tight.” “Alright as long as he didn’t hurt you.” “I wanted to kill him right then and there.” “You didn’t though.” “I didn’t have my knives.” “Amanda, I don’t blame you for wanting him dead. I’m sure your Mother wants him dead I want him dead, but you can’t just go and kill someone. There are repercussions. One, you are 18 so you can go to jail, and two, killing someone changes you.”

Then Rowan says quietly, “He didn’t say which friend.” Liberty lets out a shaky laugh that turns into something raw. “That’s the point.” My chest aches with it. This is what stalking does: it makes language into a weapon. It turns your imagination against you until you can’t tell if the threat is outside the door or inside your skull. Miles looks up from his laptop. “We need to treat this as two possibilities: a bluff meant to force movement, or a real incident somewhere else.” Kellan nods. “And we don’t split.”