Murder Machine Novels & Stories

"I was at brunch a few weeks ago and overheard a police officer talking to his partner about recent disturbing murders in town. He mentioned that the bodies had bite marks on their neck, and a few had been dumped in graveyards. He thought it was some kind of cult killing at first." A cold chill rushed down my spine as I told Isabella my reasoning for breaking into their home. It was creepy, and I wondered if I should have continued my story. "And that led you here?" prompted Isabella. "Well, I continued to listen to the officer, and he later mentioned that he heard two of the most heinous mafia rivals were at war, and it had been years since the two groups feuded. He concluded the murders ha

"We were never meant to be separated, were we? You didn't just frame him to get me back. You framed him because he was starting to remember the nursery. He was starting to realize that you were the one who broke the machine." Arthur stopped, his face contorting into a mask of pure, unadulterated hatred. "The machine was flawed! You were supposed to be the bridge to immortality, not a lovesick puppet for a Moretti! I killed his father to stop the Sync, and I’ll kill him to finish it!" "The data is already out there, Arthur," Ivy spat, her voice cold and steady. "And the only way to stop it is to kill me. Is that the headline you want? 'Father murders survivor daughter'?"

“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

"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.

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

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.

Jean Luc could not wrap his mind around it, but maybe that was what the murderer wanted. With quickening breaths, he turned into the gaming room. His craving to resume playing the Human Apocalypse game flew out of the window. He knew the light blue inked pen that the murderer used to write the letter. Perhaps, it had RD's fingerprint somehow. He didn't know. His mind was in such a frenzy of worry that he could barely think straight.

The Seed-Server was a slag heap of melted silicon and purple sludge. Ethan caught me as my legs gave out. "Aria? Aria, talk to me." I coughed, the metallic taste of the machine still in my throat. I looked at the screen. SYSTEM OVERWRITE: FAILED. LEDGER STATUS: DECENTRALIZED. SOVEREIGNTY: RETURNED TO SOURCE. "I did it, Victor Igbrude," I whispered, clutching his sweater. "The machine... it's finally dead." "No," Ethan said, lifting me up as the distant sound of security alarms began to wail. "The machine is dead. But the people who built it are still out there. And now, they know exactly what your blood can do."

The audio was distorted, a crackling frequency that scraped against my nerves. "You wanted to preserve life, Asset. Here is the trade. Destroy the machine to save your Pack. But to kill the machine... you must extinguish the batteries." A harsh, dry laugh vibrated through the air. "That is the somatic weight of a Queen. Can you survive the guilt?" The machine lunged.

The black claws of his left hand drove out with a quiet surre. “It’s not an animal. The monsters make the click.” He was right. It was the unmistakable, icy sound of high precision Servo motors and locking relays. Something original was awake in the jungle. The dense, man-high ferns on the edge of our lightning became more brutal, mechanical violence torn aside. It was a machine of consortium, but it wasn't like a fighting drone that we from the archives. She looked like a gigantic, iron worshipper.