The Murderer's Shopping Mall Novel Novels & Stories

I squeezed my eyes shut, bracing for the impact of the gunshot. But then, one of the men’s phones buzzed. A pause. They exchanged looks and nodded at each other, like they were communicating in some sort of unspeakable language. “Change of plans,” the tall one, who seemed to be their leader, said. “You are wanted alive.” “What? Who?” “Elio.” Just one word. And suddenly, I wished they’d just killed me. “Knock him out,” the leader said, marching out already. I didn’t even get to scream before something cracked against my skull and dropped me into darkness.

Dima He tries to compose himself after the first murder. Malik stops the car in front of a grocery store, opens the door, and gets out—his face betraying his anxiety. Malik says to the shopkeeper, "I want a bottle of water." The shopkeeper looks at Malik in surprise: "It's behind you, in the fridge, sir." Malik glances to the side and sees the fridge. He opens it and takes out a bottle of water, then turns to the shopkeeper, takes out his money, and gives it to him. The shopkeeper gives Malik his change. Malik takes the money and puts it in his pocket, then heads back to the car. Inside, Malik places the bottle of water beside him and starts driving until he reaches a quiet spot on the Nile,

Zombies. Panicked screams echoed from shoppers trapped inside the two stores. Some who were braver and more quick thinking pushed the glass doors closed and tried to hold them shut against the hungry creatures. The zombies simply bunched mindlessly against the doors, pushing against them. Slowly, the weight of their numbers was forcing the doors open. Leesa remembered a scene just like this from some old movie she had watched late one night. A mall security guard arrived. He yanked his gun from his holster, but seemed unsure what to do. Leesa was pretty sure his training had never covered anything like this.

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

Yeah, he'd learned to practice patience, but dealing with the police while they questioned Betty had just about driven him to the edge of reason. He opened the car door for her, holding her elbow as she climbed in. Daylight had waned, and the parking garage was dimly lit, the sound of other hospital visitors echoing through the cement structures. Betty listened for other things. Furtive footballs on the pavement. The click of a gun safety being released. The slide of fabric or the soft huff is a breath. Someone had tried to kill Dan just a few weeks ago, and there was no reason to believe that person would be content to let him live. The road went quiet as he stepped around the car. The soun

Killing a woman who posts no threats to her is too much. As the hired man approached Marie Arnold, his footsteps echoing softly in the dimly lit alleyway, he felt a familiar surge of adrenaline coursing through his veins. He had always been killing, and this is the same feeling he always feels whenever he is about to kill someone. He knew what he had been tasked to do, but as he drew closer to his target, he couldn't shake the nagging feeling of doubt that gnawed at the edges of his conscience.

With that, father and son set off into the mall, their minds racing with worry as they searched for any information that could shed light on the attempted assassination and ensure the safety of their family. As Hideous and Keisley arrived at the scene of the assassination attempt, they were met with a sense of urgency and tension in the air. There's debris from the glasses that came from the ceiling of the top floor of the mall where the bullet had peirced. The bullen was stuck on the mall's floor as well, not far from where Kyle, the first lady, and the daughter of the president are standing, as they said. Security personnel immediately went towards them through the crowded mall, leading th

“You don’t understand.” “Then help me understand,” he demanded, voice strained and low. “Why are you so scared of that bastard, Millie? What’s he got over you?” Her chest heaved as she fought to contain herself, but the desperation in his gaze finally broke through her walls. With a choked sob, she blurted out, “Because I’m a murderer! I killed a man, and Francis has a video recording of it!” *** AUTHOR'S NOTE Thank you so much for reading. Just wanted to inform you guys that this book will probably be coming to an end soon, and I'm already tearing up. I'm so thankful to everyone who has supported me up to this point. Thank you!

The metallic scent of blood. “DEVYN!” Chairs were thrown around, vases were smashed, but he couldn’t pinpoint where the smell of blood was emanating from. Then he realised something... He hadn’t checked the main bedroom. Running through to the other side of the cottage, he throws the bedroom door open and charges in but takes a step back when he sees the calling card on the wall and his face pales. Deja vu set in and Kieran’s heart breaks anew. “No... not again...” He cries out, his breathing ragged as Massimo runs into the bedroom behind him. “Fuck, oh fuck, Kieran...” He breathes out, knowing what this meant. The fucking Suarez Cartel had her.

Vince fell into step; the store released them into the mall’s white noise; a group of tweens in glitter backpacks parted around them like a school of fish around a shark and then reformed, forgetting the shadow that had made them move. At the escalator, a man in a maintenance polo wrestled with a mop that had apparently caught under a display wheeled out for some event. He swore softly. The bucket tipped and sloshed a small lake onto the tile. An apology spilled from his mouth in another language. Vince grimaced and steered Sasha wide. She didn’t look at the man’s face. She didn’t have to. Outside the bookstore, the mall’s skylights threw bright rectangles on the floor like sun on a swimming