Murderer Synonym Novels & Stories

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.’

"So, what makes you think I was the killer instead of them? I guess it'll be better if those guns and knives could be inspected too. As far as I could remember, I never touched those. There is no sign of my fingerprints on those weapons they used to murder their allies or friends." "What makes you think they were the ones who murdered their friends? Ms. Fisher, it comes from your mouth that they were friends. Do you think a friend could kill each other?" Could not help but smirked at the inspector. That was the most ridiculous statement I've ever had in my entire existence. "Even a family would kill each other for one thing, Mr. Inspector. Those men rubbed me and yet they wanted more than th

- He is here with us. - Is he alive? - Yes, he is. - Tell me what it's like to be a murderer? - You're a murderer, can't you know that? - I kill criminals like you, not innocent people. - Innocent people are consequences of the acts, that sometimes happen in the different confrontations, you know Maria, let's not make unnecessary show, you sent to kill a newborn, who do you think you are to judge.

He accused, "How can you act like you're fine after you killed her? She was pregnant. We were about to be a family of three, but you ruined it all, you murderer!" He repeated the same accusation in a hoarse voice like he was in a trance, attracting the attention of a few policemen. Horrified, Marie tried to cover his mouth, but it was too late. Clifford walked past her with the urn and walked into the police department. "Cliff, please don't! I'm scared. I didn't do it on purpose. If you turn us both in, you'll ruin our future!" She jogged over to Clifford, took his arm, and begged him.

he warned, his voice low as he stepped even closer, making my chest tighten. “I know that. Why were you calling me?” I asked, finally meeting his gaze, though my breath was still uneven. “There’s a new inmate,” he replied, turning and walking away, his tone calmer now. “Really? We got another troublemaker?” I scoffed, a faint smirk forming as I followed him, my curiosity creeping in despite myself. “Who is he? Another shoplifter? A petty thief? Or some small-time criminal?” “In for murder. A mass murderer, to be exact,” he answered flatly.

Ladies, gents, and all genders included, allow me to introduce you to Senator Schaumer who has mastered the art of committing the perfect murder. He did it once, twice, three times! (to my knowledge, there could be more) And yet, he has never been suspected of wrongdoing. I dare say at this point that he is a serial killer and a psychopath and we must ask who is next on this horrendous murder spree of his.

He added. "Negotiating? Since when is first degree murder a negotiation?" I asked, holding Maria back. "On the account of insanity-" "He killed three people with his signature of making it look like a suicide" Maria spat. "He's a psychopathic murderer and a serial killer" She said as i whispered. "Wu. Wu. We need to save Wu" "We're going to the best we can to ensure justice for Ruby and for her friends and family and Wu" He said.

“Did you kill that guy? The one the cops came to see you about today?” “Yes. And the other six men who killed my sister. One told me they were loaded with daemon shot because it could kill almost anything. Those fucking bastards were looking for someone to kill that night! I’m sorry. I really am a terrible person, even though I pretend to be so good. I kill people. They were killers, trackers, hunters, and I’m still planning to kill the doctor who murdered my mother. As soon as I can figure out which one it was. Maybe I should just kill them all until I find the right one…” I speculated before shaking my head. “Your turn.”

Enraged, they hurled stones and dirty water at me. "Officer, execute him as soon as possible! We won't feel safe otherwise!" "Damn it–this kind of monster kills, dumps the body, cheats on his wife, and still tries to frame her? He deserves to die!" "He must be a psychopath–who else would murder someone and dump the body in broad daylight?" Suddenly, a thought struck me. I struggled again and shouted, "Officer–after all this, who exactly are you saying I killed?"

A murderer. Jed laughed. No, he wasn’t a murderer. He was a youngish, fucked up, average guy. If anything, his worst crime was being a cliché, not a killer. He’d seen enough movies to know that murderers lurked in the dark, sharpening their knives; they danced in the moonlight wearing their mother’s clothes and made lampshades from the skins of their victims. He was just Jed. History wouldn’t remember him—he wasn’t some future horror icon.