Mckamey Manor Death Count Novels & Stories

ALEXANDER The handmaiden’s death had hit the McKenzie Manor like a shit tsunami on steroids. A spark of guilt ignited in my chest when I realized I hadn’t the slightest bit of recollection on what the woman looked like. “Eyewitnesses accounts say Mary Argretee had been murdered as she was fleeing from the Manor,” The young detective from the sheriff’s office boomed as the sharp blue crystals of his eyes fixed unnervingly on me. I shifted uneasily on the rich leather of the couch, feeling like I had just been soccer punched in the stomach.

“I don’t know this traveling doctor well enough to discuss things that go on in Wolf Junction. Hell, it took me five months of watching you before I felt I could let you in on our secret.” “Secret? What secret? Are you trying to tell me that dead men walking around in the night is a common occurrence?” “That’s exactly what I’m trying to tell you.” He’d managed to place himself between me and the door so there was no escaping the conversation. “It’s been going on for a few years now. There’s a death like this somewhere in the county at least once a month.” “There have been no deaths since I moved here,” I foolishly insisted.

Only his demolished four wheeler. He flipped another page. And another. More and more names he recognized. Mr. Drake, the farmer who’d unfortunately flipped his tractor onto himself trying to free it from mud in one of his fields. Sam Perkins, a hunter who’d disappeared in the woods one winter. Eddie Bannister, a two-bit high school dropout who’d been killed, most believed, by his partner in crime Derek Barton (who’d since fled to parts unknown) in a botched robbery at Handy’s Pawn and Thrift. Bud Hartley, local simpleton but gentle giant, who’d died of complications in Clifton Memorial Hospital after a pile of burning garbage at the landfill fell on him. Lizzy Tillman, who’d died when the N

The walls seemed to close in, and I knew this wouldn't be good for me. "There has been a curfew in Eureka Springs for over three weeks. Kentucky may need to enforce similar measures to protect its residents. Whoever this murderer is, they are fearless, moving from city to city. Rowan McCain and James Ford's deaths have left the town reeling once again. These men make a total of 108 victims of the ruthless killer. Our prayers go out to their families, and we hope to find Cheryl Mason before it's too late." The words echoed in my head, but my vision was blackening. The room had fallen silent, the men had stopped chanting, and the music had cut off. All that remained was the voice from the tele

“There was more than one death?” “You didn’t hear?” She looks surprised. “You know that finance consultancy office near the south of town, the one that’s run by vamps?” I stiffen. That’s Jamie’s loan shark business. “What about it?” I ask slowly. “Well, six of their men were found dead in their homes, two days ago. They were badly injured and apparently died painful deaths. But their neighbors swore they heard nothing.” My breath catches in my throat. Six of Jamie’s men died?

His expression was somber. "Doris, there’s been a multi-person shooting at The Paper Monkey.” I gasped. That club was only a few buildings away. Many people went to The Strip and then went to The Paper Monkey afterward or vice versa. The Strip had better shows, but The Paper Monkey had better dancing and a DJ. "How many people were hurt?" I asked. "The reports are still coming in. There have been five fatalities so far, and a lot of the people have ended up in the hospital. It’s not good."

"The family has everything except for the source of wealth. Mr Tepes says he owns a couple of pharmacies, but we found out that he did it only recently." "Why are you telling me all this?" Asked Emma, raising her eyebrows. "Mr Tepes came to New York with his wife five years ago. His son came just two months before. These deaths started a week after the couple came. The first victim was Jake Parker. His body was found in Hudson. There were deaths like these, wherever they moved. Initially, only a few people died like this. Occasionally one or two bodies like this would appear. But only now it's increasing." explained the agent.

"What's the death toll?" My father commanded as I entered the War room behind Kaine. There were several people gathered around the large table. Torren looked like he was about to say something when one of the other men spoke up. "A total of thirteen dead from the Alpha Summit. Sixteen from the planned attacks across the different packs prior. A total of Twenty Nine needless deaths. All Alphas are accounted for, four dead Lunas and a few deaths related to betas and their mates. From the Summit and a few others." Another man spoke.

The current number of survivors was thirty-two people. In the new round of voting, opinions were scattered, and me and several others all received votes. “Has anyone noticed we’re one vote short?” The old lady began her performance. “We’ve had seven deaths so far. That means there should be thirty-three votes left, but only thirty-two valid votes were cast today. Don’t you find that strange?” On the first day, there were three deaths. Two people who mistakenly took the red pills, and the old man who was poisoned.

The floor was sticky with congealing blood, and Marek winced each time he stepped into a patch. Orin pulled out his phone. Marek frowned. “Is this the best time for a call?” “You should call Caius while I take pictures.” In contrast to Marek’s snappish tone, Orin’s was calm, bordering on gentle. Marek sighed. “Sorry.” At Orin’s nod, he took out his phone and called Caius’s secure line. “We’re here.” He didn’t waste time with greetings. “There are fourteen dead bodies here. I’m not sure what happened, but it’s a gruesome scene.”