Novel & Cerita Murder By Choice

He would put that shit into the water supply to breed himself an army of recruits. “Every day, lots of people go through the exact same experiences these serial killers go through, and they don’t go on rampages,” Bethany continues. “It all comes down to personal choice, and how each person chooses to handle what life dishes out to them.” I can’t help but notice the irony of having Bethany—little miss perfect, who killed more than twenty people before being recruited by THEM—lecturing and philosophizing on the morality of the poor life choices of serial killers. Part of me knows she’s just playing the part, but I also suspect on some level, she really believes what she’s saying. Which brings

Her shoulders trembled. The prosecutor continued. "Forensic analysis shows the child didn't die instantly. If he had received timely medical treatment, his survival rate would have exceeded 70 percent. It was the defendant who personally prevented rescue efforts and directly caused her son's death. "This was not negligence, and it wasn't an accident. It was a premeditated murder. She simply killed the wrong person." Esther's lawyer had no response. In the end, the judge brought down the gavel. Esther Lawson was found guilty of intentional homicide and sentenced to 15 years in prison.

"You killed him. You murdered him." "He made a choice," César replied, and his voice was so calm, so rational, like he was explaining a business decision instead of justifying the murder of an innocent man. "He chose to help you escape. He chose to stand between my men and that window. He chose to die for you, Anya. I simply... honored that choice." "He was unarmed!" I was screaming now, didn't care if I woke up the whole building. "He was just trying to protect me and you shot him like he was nothing, like he was—"

"Derek?" "Listening. You know what? A girl had two options. One was a thief and a murderer who went to jail for killing someone rude to the girl. And the other? He's the safe choice, the nice one, the one who'd actually go out of his way to do things for her." I glance down at my sock-clad feet. "Don't use Hardin and Noah as a..." "No, I'm not. I'm just stating the facts. She chose the murderer. I asked why and she said she felt safe around him. Which made me wonder, how do you feel safe around a murderer? That's toxic shit."

This situation was putting me at a crossroad; I could either choose myself by refusing this ridiculous offer to literally be sold off in order to save my father and instead continue with my escape plan with Benjamin, who was right outside, or I could choose to save my dad’s life and accept being sold off. The choice was clear. “Who even is the person who is willing to pay such a crazy amount for a blind girl?” I asked after concluding in my mind to choose my father. I couldn’t bear his death being my fault. I just would never be able to forgive me. “Emm…,” I could hear the hesitation in Noah’s voice as he tried to reveal the person’s name. Why didn’t he want to reveal who the person was? I k

“I was kind of…dead at the time.” Eves brows cinched together. “Dead.” “As a doornail.” Grey confirms. Luke nods to her. “I was there. He was definitely taking a dirt nap.” River leans over. “You’re working on cowboy lingo, aren’t you?” Luke grins. “Yeah. You like it?” River scrunches his face. “Needs work.” Grey shakes his head. “Anyway. Eve. Mia was faced with an impossible decision, okay. Kill me or let Kay-Os out.”

"I will give you two choices. Either I kill you-quickly and painlessly or take a shot at me with the knife and earn your freedom. Three minutes. Within three minutes if you can put a scratch on me, I will let you walk out of here-in one piece." "And what if I...I couldn't put a scratch on you? Would you kill me then?" I asked, holding my breath. He smirked. "Winner's choice," he declared. "Now tell me-what's your choice?" Death was never a choice for me. I wanted to live. I knew saving myself from this situation was near impossible but I would rather die trying. That was all I was left with-my fighting spirit and I didn't come so far to back down.

"You paid for the result, but you didn't get that result. Usually, clients in your position want to talk about other choices." I looked at the river. A boat moved slowly across the grey water, going somewhere I couldn't see. "What kind of choices?" I asked. "More direct ones," he said. "The boy is hard to get now—he is famous and will have a lot of security from now on. But the woman herself or the man. Getting rid of either one gives you what you want, and it is much less." "No," I said. "Miss Hart" "I said no." My voice was completely flat. "I don't want them dead. Death is too simple. Death makes her a martyr, makes him a grieving widower, and gives everyone a clean story to tell."

He turns his back on me, fixing his stare on the elevator doors. “Murder isn’t quite as simple as many assume,” he says conversationally, his tone at odds with the tension in the air. “Many think that when it comes down to it, they could easily breach that gap, cross that line and make the kill. However, when found in a situation where the options are kill or be killed, they hesitate.” He inhales a breath that makes him larger and his aura meaner, and when he turns to look at me again, there is only death in his eyes. “And that hesitation gets them killed, Susanna.”

“I have a clear mind when I make the choice. I can say yes, or I can walk away. It doesn’t drive me.” “How often do you do this?” “Every few months maybe,” I responded, shifting uncomfortably. “It’s not something I keep track of. It’s when I haven't really eaten in days, or when I am hurt, or sick. Its food… It's medicine.” “It’s survival…” He said. I blinked. He was right. I never went out looking for someone to kill without needing something from them. There were plenty of bad people in the world that I chose to stroll past. Either way, I was guilty of something. Guilty of murder. Guilty of letting a pervert roam free.