Mike Ramirez Killer Novels & Stories

Turin. A snowy forest. A remote cabin. Inside, a man screamed, while another fired. Blood painted the walls. In the corner, a child watched, silent and wide-eyed. That child was Gabriel. The shooter? Leo Valez. But the trigger wasn’t pulled for business. It was personal. Present day. Valez Estate. Alina stood in the library, her face pale as marble. Leo walked in, eyes dark, shirt unbuttoned just enough to look careless, but he was anything but…

The only thing standing between me and dropping out completely. I spent the rest of class in a daze. When everyone else filed out, I stayed behind, staring at the crime scene photos. The victim was identified as Tommy Ricci, 34, unemployed. No family listed. No witnesses. Case closed. But I was a witness. I'd seen it happen. I'd seen the killer. And I had proof. Back in my apartment, I pulled out my phone with shaking hands. The photo was blurry, mostly shadows and streetlight. But there, in the corner, just barely visible...

It was brutal. I moved through the warehouse with cold precision, my weapon finding targets with mechanical accuracy. Men fell before they could raise their own guns. Shouts of alarm turned to screams of pain, then to silence. The Ramirez family had wanted to play in my world. They had wanted to prove themselves by taking me down. Now they were learning the cost of that ambition. I found their leader—Miguel Ramirez—in a back office, scrambling for a weapon. He was older than I expected, maybe fifty, with grey threading through his hair.

However, their efforts did not go unnoticed by the organization's operatives, who viewed them as threats to their plans. One fateful evening, as Ramirez and Sarah ventured out to follow up on a promising lead, they found themselves ambushed by a group of masked assailants. Despite their best efforts to fend off their attackers, they were outnumbered and outgunned. In a devastating turn of events, Ramirez and Sarah were tragically assassinated, their lives cut short in a brazen display of the organization's ruthlessness. The news of their deaths sent shockwaves through the group, leaving Kelvin, Olivia, and Chief Rodriguez reeling with grief and disbelief. Their loss weighed heavily on them,

“And? Alejandro exhaled, his frustration evident. “His name was Ramon Ortega. He used to work for the Valdez family. He was Marco’s late father’s driver for years before his passing.” The fork slipped from my hand, clattering loudly against the plate. “So I was right, it wasn’t an accident.” “No,” he said. “It was deliberate.” The room tilted slightly, like the air had been sucked out of it. My hands gripped the edge of the table, my knuckles white. “Do they have proof? Can they charge him?”

“How are you feeling?” How was I feeling? I didn’t know. I wasn’t sure I felt anything at all. I shrugged. Leonardo exhaled, his hand squeezing mine gently. “It’s over, Olivia. You’re safe now.” Safe. I wanted to believe that. But every time I closed my eyes, I saw Alicia’s face. Shocked. Betrayed. Dead. I killed her. The door opened, and Detective Ramirez walked in. His dark eyes immediately found mine. He was middle-aged, with graying hair and a calm, steady presence. I knew he was here to ask me about what happened.

Because if you live outside this city, or if you don’t read the tabloids, or if you don’t listen to the podcasts — you might think he was just one more name on one more news cycle. He wasn’t. He was a ghost. He had been a ghost for years. Nobody had ever seen his face. Nobody had ever caught him on a traffic camera. Nobody had ever taken a photograph that wasn’t blurred silver and shadow. Seventeen confirmed kills, the last count I’d seen, and every one of them a man who had hurt someone smaller than himself and walked away from the consequence. A tabloid writer had called him the Verdict Killer in a piece three years ago and the name had stuck because it fit. Because what he did was not mur

Dad went out and led the man through our sensors. "Sorry for the alarm, Mr. Black, I knew where to come in but I was instructed to set off one sensor then wait. We had a nice talk with a friend of yours on the radio and we did a share of intel. Long story short, in the time it's taken you to get home on the back routes, we cleared up your little problem. Governor has a pretty hard line against folks that would kidnap just to get to a man, said he dealt with that stuff long enough with the Cartels. We've been watching them since he set up camp near El Paso, once we heard what happened here, we went in hard and took them down. We have your guy in custody, once you verify it's him, we'll put hi

"But you're also a fool. Do you know who I am? Do you know what I'm capable of?" Jewel stood her ground, refusing to show any weakness. "I know who you are, Mr. Ramirez," she said. "And I know that you're a dangerous man. But I also know that you're not invincible. You're just a criminal, and you'll eventually get what you deserve." Ramirez's face contorted with anger, and Jewel thought that she was about to be killed. But then, to her surprise, he started laughing.

I didn't think I'd ever cared this much about my life, but getting brutally murdered in a psychopath's home that I may have or may have not willingly walked into wasn't exactly a prideful way to die. Bam! A wack came to the top of the table, and I swallowed my heart and everything else that functioned inside of me. I could see his legs from the little space where I was crouched. He was so close to me. That was how I knew it was his fist he slammed against the table so hard. "This is…not happening!" His voice rang through the walls of the quiet room. "No, not again! This is not happening again!" Another hit followed, and the table shook like it was going to crumble.