The Comic Book Murder Novels & Stories

Or, rather, it was a gun until he broke it into two pieces. Did he just kill someone? I don’t want to ask. I don’t want to know. “What kind of darts were those?” I whisper. “Tranquilizers?” "Worse. Let's keep moving. Stay close to my back," he says. I’m completely disoriented, but I follow him upstairs, to where the first batch of dorms are. We round a corner, and I almost run into Alec, who has stopped dead. I lurch to a stop, and my hand connects with his back.

“You’ll get to see more of this often, so I’d advice that you braced yourself….” Her words had become one with the wind that swept our faces, as I tried to digest her the scene before me. Somewhere at the back of my mind, I wasn't supposed to be this surprised. Bagging that deal with Columbus led to the death of his most hated rival, Kenzie. A ridiculous coincidence if I must admit. But seeing her actually murder someone made the hairs of my body stand. More so, because he was an abuser. What if she finds out that I once abused Yuanita too? Does that mean I..

Deep down, he already knew what was in there. He should have reviewed the patrol team's preliminary report immediately, but he was afraid. Chris looked at him for a long, long time—so long that Connor was almost driven mad by Chris' silence and the grief in his eyes. Then, Connor walked into the warehouse. In the days since my death, I had longed countless times for Connor to discover what had happened to me. But now that the moment had finally come, I suddenly felt afraid. A glaring outline of a distorted, incomplete body was drawn in white chalk on the warehouse floor. Vast, dark brown stains had soaked deep into the concrete. That was my blood, dried and re-wet so many times it formed hor

I looked so calm that it seemed as if I had just killed a bunch of chickens instead of the family that I had lived with for years. "Damon is a monster. How could he be so calm after committing a murder?" "He might be mentally ill. Mrs. Larson knew his secret, so he killed them all." "Who knows who he's going to kill next? We all know his secret now. Will he kill us too?" "Evil people like him should be shot to death at once!" There was an uproar in the livestream as everyone clamored for me to die. However, a forensic expert suddenly pushed the door open and walked in. His brow was tightly furrowed as he held a report in his hand.

"I told you it was her! Officers, why aren't you arresting her?" Leon finally "broke down". His eyes turned bloodshot. "Officers, I-I don't want to believe it… but the evidence is right there. My grandma raised me since I was a boy…" His voice cracked, and his shoulders trembled slightly. The onlookers in the hallway began throwing pitying glances his way. "That poor guy. His wife murdered his grandma." "Karma will catch up to her. A toxic woman like that deserves to rot in prison." The police officer turned back to me, his tone strictly professional. "Ms. Spencer, the evidence we have now is heavily stacked against you.

“And all of us must have been directly responsible for something about Christie, more than all of Van Duke. I don’t know the other four of you but I can confirm mine and Dean’s. And I know that you all also know it. “Think about it: six friends were in a room at the very anniversary of a suicide which they were directly responsible for. And one of them, must have been guilty to the point that they would seek justice for what happened, putting matters on their own hands, radically righting a wrong that they were a part of—a grand redemption! “Further deducing the circumstances of that night—a locked door, six guilty people who were alone, and a dead body—, I come to one conclusion, my friends

I stood up and went to the living room. When I got out of college I didn't look at either Jinni or Loren afterward. I appreciated it a bit. As I walked home hugging myself from the cold, I thought about the things that have happened: Max's notebook, Dalton's pistol caps ... they had my head in a mess. I felt around my bag and pulled out the card with the officer's number. Homicide. Who could have such a twisted mind to murder someone? And especially just a college boy. It was true that Max had many friends, but also enemies.

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 answered and dropped a couple of snapshots on the table. "The police are getting real interested in the murders. He was a Kelion hitman and died the same way the others did.... A bullet in each circle of their triskeles tattoos.'' The two women both looked at the pictures. "Who could it be?" Elva wondered, furrowing her brows. "Does it really matter? We should be grateful." Naomi seethed. "Any news of Jake yet?" "Not yet, ma'am. We're still searching though." "And the reports?"

It is sure as shit more comfortable than it was with Alessia, or any other broad. “So why call yourself a monster?” he brings me back on track. “Because it’s true,” I mutter. “I’m a fucking murderer, C.” He kisses my shoulder. “An enforcer following orders, but you don’t have to go and repeat the mistake.” “I didn’t have any orders to off my old man, shoot him in the spine while his back was turned…” It’s hard to get this out. I never copped to this murder, not with Sicillio and not even to Carm. I think bro guessed what happened just from the look in my eyes anyhow. He knew I’d done something during that job to get the old man killed. I never admitted I was the one to put the bullet in him