Murder Machine Novels & Stories

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.

He always carries it with him. Slowly realization dawned upon her. Her hands started to tremble. She understood everything. The murderer was from inside the castle. Always been inside. Always been one of them. Her own blood. Her brother. ‘How could he kill him? His own father?’, she looked imploring at Argus. Tears were streaking silently down her eyes, upon her cheeks onto her lap. Her face was contorted with pain. The death of her father and the betrayal of her brother was too much to handle for her.

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.

“That implies you think you’ll survive your own method.” I felt my pulse in the hollow of my throat; I felt Echo-2’s slow hum like a presence behind my ribs. The machine was awake to everything: cameras, bank pings, encrypted chatter. It was my knife and, now and then, my conscience programmed, pragmatically, to mitigate casualties. That second part preserved me in a way I hadn’t yet acknowledged.

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.

"If you kill me, the boy’s heart stops. I'm the one who’s been running the dampener remotely." "Who are you?" I projected the thought, my wolf-mind snarling. The woman smiled. She reached up and pulled at the skin of her neck. A seam appeared. She peeled the face back. Underneath wasn't a monster. It was a machine. A series of glowing, green circuits and silver-bone plates. "I'm the original," the machine said. "You? You’re just the 118th attempt at a perfect mother." A massive, green beam of light erupted from the ocean floor, hitting the sky.

Both of them should kill them as soon as possible before Gerald woke up or the mafia tried to catch them. They parted their ways and began their hunting. Miller called his trusted troops from his original mafia clan. He paid them good with the saved money he had. He commanded them to come with him and attacked Cedric when he went out from the mansion. Miller has calculated everything before he started to attack Cedric. Cedric might have more troops than Miller’s but to overcome that unbalanced numbers, Miller has bought a deadly machine gun with lots of bullets. He was going to use it and went all out.

Now she, Jeannine, was going to kill what was left of her mother. Another murder, for that’s what it was. She could pretend to justify the death of the cops—they were going to kill her; she wasn’t in full control of her own mind—whatever. But this was murder. Cassandra had tried to kill her—a couple of times. But Jeannine was in full control of her body and mind now. This was murder. And she’d have to live with that. J “Where did you find it?” asked Jeannine, holding up the machete.

Stephen leaped on him, taking him down with him. "Steph". Ace called him but it was late. Callum saw his eyes flashing yellow. A bright yellow. Pupils dilated. Stephen had Adam's neck exposed as his fangs elongated and the last thing Callum saw was those fangs sinking in the crook of Adam's neck and then he lost his consciousness. It was too much for him. "Tsk tsk tsk. You let your wolf overpower you". Zol said unamused. Though they didn’t put any charge on Stephen for killing Adam, because they knew Adam had few things on his hands to be taken care of. But they were kind of disappointed.