Murder Knocks Twice Novels & Stories

“Even if it takes killing two men to do it.” I blink. What? The words don’t fully register at first, my brain still struggling to catch up with the last five minutes, with the way my body still feels like it’s locked in fight mode. Two. I turn my head slightly, staring at him, my voice rough when I finally manage to speak. “What the fuck do you mean, two?” He exhales through his nose, adjusting his cufflinks like we’re discussing stats from a game, not bodies on the floor. “The first one,” he says smoothly. “The one you hit in the throat.”

“If a murder has taken place there twice, then it’s a sign that something shady is going on. I don’t want any more lives lost because we were too blind to see the pattern.” The head guard nodded sharply, scribbling something in his ledger. The others around the table exchanged tense glances, and I could feel the an uneasy feeling growing in the room. The pack had become chaotic the second me and Rae left for our vacation. My guards had reported the death of two people along a familiar street, the minute Rae and I drove in. I couldn’t help but arrange a meeting quickly trying to get to the bottom of things. “Is that the only thing that has happened?” I asked, scanning each face, as I pulled m

His fingers shook as he swept a cold smile across the crowd. “The memory decoder is a new product. Data misalignment is normal. Maybe Finn altered the memories before he died to drag his wife down with him. After all, he’s a murderer who even dared to kill his wife's parents!” A team member burst in, face ashen, shouting, “Chief! Another murder just happened in the south district! The victim was carved up and had bones severed—the method is exactly the same!” Linda struggled to her feet. She looked at me slumped in the chair, long devoid of life, her whole body shaking.

Sebastian shifted; I could hear the whisper of leather on wood, the faint click of safety off. “On my count,” he murmured, and I realized he wasn’t speaking to us. His voice was on the edge of the dark, aimed at the crack in the door. “One.. two—” Two shots. Not his. Two bodies thudding heavy. He didn’t say three. The hammer rose again for a final swing. And then another sound cut it off—the heavy, terrifyingly intimate smack of a shoulder hitting wood from the other side. Someone snarled through their teeth. Another impact. The hammer clanged away and spun on the floor. A boot kicked it aside.

My eyes swiftly drifted to my door. I heard it again.. a knock, once, twice. Valerio… he finally came! He finally came bavk to his senses, Just as i have wished. I practically ran for my door and was about to fling it open when i heard another knock. I’m coming.. i said in my mind but i paused suddenly. The knock come again and my hands paused at the handle. I registered the knock and it didn’t sound like Valerio’s. This was a little slower than his like he was counting the knocks.

I was halfway through the second replay, one hand between my legs, when someone knocked on my door. Not a normal knock. Three slow, heavy knocks that made the whole door rattle. I froze. Nobody knocked like that unless they wanted to be let in. Or unless they weren’t planning on asking twice. I wiped my hand on my dress and stood up on shaky legs. My heart was hammering so loud I almost didn’t hear the voice on the other side of the door. “Open up, Nova.” The voice was low. Rough. That same voice that had been in my ear less than two hours ago.

"He only took off one lock. Maybe you should ask what's going on? To be honest, I've been driving ambulances for over ten years, and this is the first time I've seen anything like this." My gaze had just landed on Jake when he grinned at me. "I forgot to mention earlier, Mitch. It's 200 dollars per clamp. There are four clamps here, so you didn't pay enough." My anger instantly flared up. I jumped out of the ambulance and stormed over to him. "Have you lost your mind? 200 dollars per lock? Why don't you just go rob people instead? If something happens to Mom, I won't let you off the hook! Hurry up and unlock them now!"

I shifted him to my other shoulder and pressed my cheek to the hot, damp crown of his head. "I'm here," I said. I said it again, and again, with no idea whether it helped. "I'm here. I'm here." At half past nine, someone knocked at the door.... Three strikes. Firm. Evenly spaced. Not the Quiet One's code, two short and one long, which the Driver used when he came in from the van. Not the doctor's soft double tap. Just three blows of a knuckle against wood, the way a man knocks who has every right to be on the step.

Three against two. Paulette gritted his teeth. Then, he picked up the sledgehammer from the props prepared by the Death Judge. Crack! The sledgehammer broke the left collarbone. However, the pain of breaking the collarbone still made Paulette break out in cold sweat. His entire shirt was soaked. At this moment, the monitor flashed again. The second game was completed, and the third five-minute countdown began. In the office of Zero Major Crimes Unit of the New York Police Department…

These actions cannot be explained, Navpreet,’ said the inspector gloomily, casting an eye on the mountains. The sub-inspector gave a stiff nod and carefully studied the inspector who seemed to be lost in contemplation. ‘From what I have seen, murders are of two types,’ said the inspector, the tips of his fingers coming together. ‘First are the unplanned ones, committed by people who were suffocated in some way by the acts of the would-be victims. When they see an opportunity, their fear is eclipsed by the pain they have suffered and they strike.’