Murder Machine Novels & Stories

"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.

He strode toward the crusher, his gun still firing. "Stop!" he bellowed at the machine like it was a person, before leaping onto its control panel. He yanked the emergency brake and the metal lever protested with a screech as he forced it into place. The crusher's jaws shuddered, mere inches from my face, before grinding to a halt. Maruska spun, scanning the area, his gun still at the ready. "Maeve, get out!" he shouted. I scrambled out of the crusher's deadly grasp, stumbling into Maruska's arms. He pulled me close, his chest heaving with exertion.

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.

You never cared about anyone else. "It's how you should be in the mafia!" He responded, his jaw clenched and his eyes locked on me, "It's either you or no one!" "Well, now you have no one to get you out of this." I smirked, taking out my dagger from my hostler since I was still dressed up from that party, "I'm gonna take over the Russian Mafia, after I kill you." "You won't dare to kill me," he rolled his eyes, "I'm your father and you're my daughter!" He shouted which made me laugh darkly, "Sean was your son and Michael was my best friend—you didn't hesitate before shooting them, you bloody asshole!"

“Hope that can of Coke isn’t the serial killer, ‘cause you’re squeezin’ it half to death.” I glance down at my tightened knuckles, realizing the metal's crumpling in my grip and I release my clenched fists. I force a weak chuckle, tossing the mangled can aside. “What’s up?” Her smirk fades and she lets out a sigh, as she drops a coin in the vending machine. “There’s been another murder...” My brows shoot up. “Another? Where?” “Under Parkston Bridge. Brutal, this one. It's even worse than the others.”

Dex and Kane shouted, realizing a second too late what was going to happen. Machine’s eyes were wide as his legs were suddenly no longer under him. He was even more shocked that he suddenly ended up on his back. The small woman was sitting on his belly with a six inch serrated hunting knife pressed to his throat. Sweat beaded across his brow as the realization that he was afraid of her dawned on him. “Margo…” Kane whispered. “Get off of him.”’ Dex tried coaxing her to listen. “Is this how you treat someone who you need help from?” Machine growled, trying to appear calm.

"I gave the order that he lives. Somebody countermanded me. When I find out who, I'll -" "I know it wasn't you." She said it fast, and she meant it, and that was the worst part, that she believed me instantly and it didn't help, because the point wasn't whether I'd done it. The point was that it had happened at all. The point was the pattern. "Malik. Terrence Vance shielded me with his body and testified with his silence and stepped in front of a bullet at the end, and he's dead in a canal three days later, and the machine that killed him is the same machine that keeps me alive. Do you see it? Do you see what I keep seeing?" I saw it. I'd spent my whole life not seeing it and now I could not

MALACHI By dawn, the grim reality of the night’s events began to surface. Reports of multiple murders trickled in, each more gruesome than the last. The police had already cordoned off the crime scenes, but the details leaked out: the killings were the work of a single, methodical individual. Each victim had been mutilated, their hearts surgically removed and their bodies mangled, with several key bones missing from the skeletal remains. The motive was a void, and the selection of homes seemed entirely random, scattered across the territory with no discernible pattern.

"Every record, every trace, every piece of your identity gets wiped clean. As far as the world is concerned, Nadia Nucci will no longer exist." He paused. "This is the last time I'm asking. Are you sure?" I didn't hesitate. "I'm sure." The next morning, a black sedan pulled up to the back gate of the estate. I slipped inside without a sound. The driver gave me a small nod. "Everything's in place. The body double has been positioned in your room. Female, same height and build as you." His tone was perfectly even. "In 10 minutes, there will be a fire in your room, controlled and untraceable, and as far as anyone will know, you died in it.

Worse than untouchable— they were unstoppable. Italian-American mafia royalty. Ruthless, brilliant, devastatingly efficient killers. And he wanted me to try to assassinate them? Fucking madness. “I can’t do it,” I said, through gritted teeth, trying to sound firm. “That’s suicide, painful suicide.” “Oh, that’s too bad…” my boss cooed. Then gunshots echoed through the phone, followed by a scream. A small, fragile, terrified feminine scream. No! My blood turned to ice.