Murder Machine Novels & Stories

i exhaled the smoke out the window. “i’ve accepted you, kol...i really didn’t have to accept you, but i did. don’t lie to me, son.” i take a shaky breath. “no, i don’t know who’s been behind it...i thought i did, but i don’t...the murder grounds are too organized and thought-out...it’s always the same place the unfortunate victims have been found, they’re torned up exactly the same way, over and over again without error...it’s not organic...it’s mechanical.” i chose my words carefully, before bringing my joint to my lips again.

“Twenty thousand in credit card debt. Four thousand from online loans. Last week, you mortgaged the house your parents left you, took out one hundred thousand, and put it all into a speculative gaming assets investment. “And that investment collapsed the day before yesterday. “Overnight, you lost everything and ended up buried in debt.” I opened my mouth, but no words came out. Yes, I needed money. But that didn’t mean I killed anyone. “We have reason to believe you planned this murder to secure the ten-thousand-dollar reward and to take revenge on your boss and colleagues. “You know how these escape rooms work. You led them into the trap, then hid yourself in a safe compartment and controll

Dominic said. Victor looked at the beams. "You found the back door." "The map was right," Dominic said. "The city’s burning up there," Victor said. "I can hear the sirens." "Let it burn," Dominic said. "It’s cold enough down here." Victor shifted his weight. His boots scraped the grit. "Ten years, Dominic. We built the machine. We bought the ports and the guys in the suits." "The machine's dead, Victor. The plates are clean. Everyone’s gone home."

Nobody laughed, because suddenly it didn't feel impossible. "Oh my god... is there a sniper out there?!" Ethan shrieked. The murders were escalating, and the killer had attacked Elena in her own apartment. Nobody knew who was being watched... or why. The knock came again but this time accompanied by a voice, a woman's voice. "Hello?" Everyone looked toward the door. Even Elena stepped back into the room. "I think I have the wrong apartment..." The voice sounded young. Maybe twenty-five, twenty-six but nobody recognized it.

"The upload will make Leo’s heart beat fast. It will explode." "No!" Christian yelled. He was really angry. He grabbed Kemi. Slammed her against the server rack. "You knew our father built a kill-switch into the machine!" "I knew he built a switch, Christian. I thought I had the key!" Kemi said. The plane was shaking hard. "Marcus the nose is coming down!" Deborah yelled. "The machine on the wing is moving!" I looked out the window. There was a black machine on the wing. It was spinning fast. It had a camera lens that was glowing.

Morning in the mansion always starts quietly. Not the peaceful kind of quiet. The strange one. The type where you can hear your own footsteps too clearly as you walk across the marble floor. I had just finished arguing with the coffee machine in the kitchen for almost five minutes because the stupid thing refused to give me sugar. Yes. A whole mafia mansion. Men with guns everywhere but the coffee machine is the real villain of this house. I finally gave up and poured the bitter coffee into a mug anyway, muttering under my breath while leaning against the counter.

“That’s what the warriors saw?” “It is….” As the anger grew, his eyebrow raised up. “There weren’t reports of those machines.” Piercy showed me a particular one that made my skin crawl. “This is used to keep the woman open for multiple men. Tell me that didn’t happen to you?”

As the news broadcast reported a random serial killing near my residential complex, I knew—I had been reborn once again. In my first life, my husband insisted on going out in the middle of a snowstorm to buy weapons for self-defense. I locked every door and window, waiting at home, anxiety clawing at my chest. I never imagined the killer could pick locks. Before I could even react, a blade plunged into me, and I died on the couch. In my second life, I didn't hesitate. I hid in a concealed storage room, holding my breath. But the door was still pulled open. A man wearing a rabbit mask stared straight at me. "Found you," he said. In my third life, I ran to the police station. I rushed ins

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.’

He likes to refer to them a bottom feeders, vultures or the classic 'fucking freaks' depending on his mood. With all the media coverage that the case had garnered nation wide, he had hordes of people beating the doors down to see it. Everyone had wanted to see the infamous 'murder motel' where the crazy man and his deranged son had kidnapped all those women and then brutally murdered them. Everyone's favorite place to check out was the old well that had held all the bodies of the victims.