Murder Machine Novels & Stories

Transfer the script, not just avoid it. And who better than the people who wrote that script in the first place? Rita and Lucas CHOSE to be murderers. They planned my death carefully and executed it without remorse. They stood over my dying body and laughed about the money they were about to steal. If I had to engineer someone into that death slot, let it be them. Both of them needed to pay.

"It seems the memory machine has done its job." He leaned back, resting against the headboard of the bed, his eyes distant as he reflected on the path that had brought him to this moment. The memory machine was a device he had created years ago but was banned from using due to its dangerous nature. However, he had kept it hidden, and now it had proved to be an invaluable tool in his quest to tear apart Alexa and Valle.

For once, she didn’t push him away, and when they lay down, the distance between them didn’t come back. Next morning, the phone rang too early. Quinn’s eyes opened instantly, her instincts kicking in before her thoughts could catch up. She reached for her phone, already knowing it wouldn’t be anything good. “Hale.” Mark’s voice came through sharp. “There’s been another murder.” Her grip tightened slightly around the phone. “Location?” she asked. Mark didn’t hesitate. “Your hometown.” Quinn’s gaze shifted toward the window, the quiet street outside suddenly feeling different. “Who's the... victim?” she asked.

"I just moved to a different department." He looked at the babies—the twins—who were suddenly standing at the entrance of the nave. They weren't crying. They were watching him with eyes that were solid, ink-black. "The harvest is ready," Samuel said. He raised a silver whistle to his lips. The floor of the cathedral began to drop away, revealing a massive, glowing machine beneath the stone. "Ethan, run!" Caleb shouted. But the floor was already gone. We fell into the light. Why is my father’s killer still alive, and what is he doing with my children?

A picture of a trash bag appeared on the screen, together with a couple of blurred pixels of blood around it. “The police are now investigating what they have believed to be a murder.” Alice felt her thumping heart slowed. It was scary to think that there might be a murderer out there, but at least, it was not someone she knew. At least, it was not her fault. “That’s terrifying,” Wilson commented as he watched the news with her. “First, it was your friend, then now, this. This town is starting to crawl with dangerous people.” That night, Alice had a hard time sleeping. She shifted on her bed multiple times, she counted sheep and got herself a nice glass of warm milk, but the drowsiness of sl

I have not been active on social media of recent because of this stupid case,When I heard a knock at the door. I stood up to look , it's not like am expecting any visitor or something. Or could it be the killer, has he finally decided to end my life. Oh God don't let me die . I dashed to my room, I opened the drawer and got my gun . Get a grip of your self Nessa think for once the killer doesn't come out during the day ,he only comes out in the night . With that being said I dropped the gun and went back to the door .

I said, looking toward the far end of the void, where the white light was parting to reveal a massive, spiraling Ziggurat of Pure, Black-Emerald Light. "We’ve only just seen the Face of the High Council’s Final Executioner." The Machine, its monitors flickering into the grey of ash, let out a hollow laugh as its glass floor dissolved. "You think you won because you chose the glitch?" It pointed to the rising ziggurat. "I didn't manifest to fix you, Darlene. I manifested because the High Council told me that if I didn't become your Machine, they would let the One-Hundred-and-Fifty-Fourth Layer wake up the First Alpha’s Original Murderer—the man who actually built the first square, and the man

I explained. I breathed deeply again, and I started to speak, “The secondary rules stated how to get away with a crime you did. Rule number six; don’t be afraid, the seventh rule is to erase the evidence that will connect you to the crime you did, rule number eight is you must kill the witness before he tells the cops who is the real mastermind of the crime, rule number nine is you must kill your conscience, be masculine enough to hide your crime, and lastly rule number ten is you must plan everything before and after the crime. That is how to be a murderer according to this book, thank you,” I said, so my classmates gave me a round of applause.

The man pleaded. I started to pace. “One last question,” I paused, giving the guy hope that I would let him go. “Who fucked with my gun shipment?” My voice was oddly calm compared to the storm brewing underneath my skin. If Moretti was dipping into different organizations' contraband, we could be looking at a full out war if we weren’t careful. The man looked confused. “I don’t know anything about guns, man.” “Wrong answer.” Before I could finish, Machine cut off the man’s ear. His screams echoed in the soundproof, cement room.

She had slammed right into the innocent victim. Zachary saw the footage too. Just before Gigi was arrested by the police, Zachary rushed to Gigi's house in a frenzy and stabbed her. It felt like he had looked up the most effective way to kill someone. As soon as he stabbed her, blood gushed out of her. Gigi crumpled to the floor, her eyes wide with shock. She died before the ambulance even got there. The police were alerted and came right over to arrest Zachary. Looking into the camera of a surrounding spectator who was recording on his phone, he tearfully cried out, "I've avenged you, Mom!"