Mr Softee Killer Novels & Stories

"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.

“Because the way he tossed you out, doesn’t that feel familiar? Doesn’t it feel like what men like him always do once they’re done using you? He let you go because he doesn’t need you anymore. His deal is more important to him and he would give you away just to get what he wants.” He took a step closer, voice tightening. “If he really loved you, he would’ve fought for you. He would’ve told me no, even if it risked the deal. But he didn’t. He let you walk, because he's done with you. You weren’t some cherished woman he couldn’t let go of. You were nothing more than a bargaining chip.” “Stop it,” I said, rising to my feet. He stood too, voice low and burning. “Your father, what would he think

I added, "you're not much of a man. I don't blame Cindy for tossing you aside!" He was responsible for my death in my past life too. I wasn't letting either of them off the hook. Shaun kicked Cindy out of his house and filed for divorce. Cindy begged him desperately, but Shaun showed her the medical report he'd gotten from the last time she was admitted to the hospital—she had STD. The stomach pain she'd had at the police station that day was feigned, but the STD was real. In the end, with no other option, Cindy confessed the identity of the man she'd been seeing.

"Thank God the expiry date is ten years long" Walking towards me again, he sat beside me and started opening the ointment when I snatched it from him. "What happened? Let me apply it", he said, gaping at me. "Shhh...", I placed my finger on my lips, enlarging my eyes. "Show me your hands" "My hands are fine. These light injuries can't affect me. I'm......" "I'm Abraham Harris, the mafia boss. I don't get hurt", I mimicked him, making a dirty look as he cracked up.

Behind her, unknown to her, pressed against the wall, Mia stood whimpering and horrified, throwing up after witnessing all that had happened. Karma rolled her eyes nonchalantly, “I thought you left?” She walked over to where Mia stood shivering, “tsk tsk tsk tsk! He deserved it. And no, I am not evil. I am actually serving justice because everyone he had hurt, which includes a ten years old boy who is currently in the hospital, because that monster sexually molested him and threatened him. So you see, I am the good guy here.” Karma turned to look at her handwork, satisfied with a bright smile on her face. “Oooohhh! Your balance. Mtchew, I forgot. I have cash, hope you don't mind taking cash?

None of them had gotten it right. The real thing standing in my doorway, catching the light from my hall lamp was something else entirely. It was not costume. It was not theater. It was a specific, intentional, centuries-old object, and it was being worn by a man who had chosen it the way a man chooses a signature. The Verdict Killer was standing in my living room. I want to be precise about what that meant. 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.

I had been a target of harm and yet the entire staff had looked at me afterward with a simmering, ugly resentment. If I stayed soft, they would eat me alive. If I pleaded for them, they wouldn't see kindness; they’d see weakness. I pulled my hand back, my fingers curling into fists. "Keep talking, Sofia," Regina commanded, her voice like a whip. "I want to hear the rest of the 'black widow' theory." "Please, Signora!" Sofia sobbed, dropping to her knees. CRACK!! The sound of Regina’s palm meeting Sofia’s cheek was so loud it made me jump.

The scar on his eye was angry red. Behind him stood Damian. Her murderer. Her fiancé. Seeing him made Arielle’s blood boil. The Void surged. Kill him, it whispered. Rip his throat out. Arielle clenched her fists. Not yet, she told the monster. Wait. "Lycian," Kaelen said smoothly. He didn't stand up. "You look well." "For a terrorist." Lycian sat opposite him. He didn't touch the tea. "Self-defense, Kaelen."

Whoever interferes with me, I will kill him and we will both go to hell. ***