The Thrill Of A Kill Novels & Stories

He didn’t ask permission. He assessed. I understand something now with cold clarity. Matteo De Luca isn’t dangerous because he kills. He’s dangerous because he gives people the illusion of choice - and waits to see who damns themselves willingly.

I wrapped my fingers around his jaw and twisted, snapping his neck with a heavy, echoic crack. ​I dropped his limp body, my chest heaving violently against the tight steel mesh of my tunic. The sheer, intoxicating rush of the kill mixed with the lingering heat of our union, making my core throb with a sudden, desperate ache. ​Across the blood-soaked snow, Killian’s eyes locked onto mine. He had just ripped the throat out of another enemy, his mouth dripping with dark blood, but his gaze was completely consumed by the sight of me dominating the battlefield. The fated-mate bond flared like gasoline, sending a wave of raw, possessive lust through the air so thick I could practically taste it. H

It clipped my forearm, the lid bursting open to scatter gold chains, rings, and trinkets across the dark Persian carpet. "You kidnapped me, you locked me in a fucking cell for days, you locked me in this stupid estate, and you expect me to sit across from you every night and pretend that this prison some sort of safe haven?!! YOU ARE A SICK BASTARD!” "I am keeping you alive!" I roared back, my voice completely shaking. “Then kill me!!! That was the deal right? I either be your human doll or you kill me? Then fucking kill me!!!” My head was starting to spin.

Liam shook his head frantically, but it was useless. Mayor Bowser raised his glass toward me. "Officer Craig, enjoy the show." Four Rolls-Royces were parked in the square. Liam was dragged out, his limbs tied to each of the four cars. The engines roared. I closed my eyes. Erica watched helplessly as blood splattered across her face. The gag was removed from her mouth. The first thing she did was curse at me. "Andrew! You're just going to watch him die?! You're not human! You'll die a horrible death!"

Silence settled instantly. "The Hunt is Grimhalden's first trial. Hidden throughout the forest are Moon sigils. Every team must retrieve one before sunset." He paused. "If your team fails..." Nobody breathed. "...you will spend one week in the Punishment Hall." Groans spread through the crowd. "And repeated failure may result in expulsion." Which got everyone's attention. The instructor continued. "There is only one rule." His voice became colder. "If you hear someone calling your name..." He looked directly at us. "...Do not answer."

"But why? Are you obsessed with me or something" He grinned, then scoffed. "Obsessed?" He mused, his eyes squinting as he thought hard about it. "I mean, you're cute, Lena, but you have to understand that it's not in my nature to be obsessed with anyone except I was hired to kill them," he got out, a cold chuckle escaping his lips. "All I crave is the thrill of a kill, Lena, I mean, I also get a rush from the whole torture that leads up to it, but that's beside the point," he said, then grinned. "In your case, it's different. I do not plan to kill you. I can't say the same for you, brother, though," he added darkly, his gaze moving to those of Raphael.

I matched his pace, my excitement growing with each step. After a while, Killian slowed, his ears pricked as he caught the scent of prey. He signaled for me to follow him more quietly, and we moved with stealth and precision, our senses focused on the hunt. The thrill of the chase coursed through me, a primal instinct awakening as we approached a clearing where a deer grazed unsuspectingly. Killian glanced at me, his eyes bright with anticipation. He crouched low, and I mirrored his stance, my muscles coiled and ready. With a swift, silent command, we sprang into action, our bodies moving as one.

He’s a hunter, carefully laying his trap, savoring the control he has before the final moment. “So you spend more time planning than actually... doing the deed?” I ask, still skeptical. “Doesn’t that seem... anticlimactic? All that work for a fifteen-minute thrill?” Lucas smirks again, leaning even closer, his voice dropping into a silky, dangerous tone. “The thrill isn’t in the kill—it’s in the control. The planning, the watching, knowing that every move they make, every step, is under my control, and they don’t even know it. That’s the real power. The kill is just the finale, the poetic ending to a perfectly orchestrated game.”

She was wired. She followed Killian through the dimly lit hallways, her body thrumming with adrenaline, her mind replaying the moment over and over again—the feel of the trigger beneath her finger, the way the man’s body crumpled, the rush that followed. She had killed again. And she liked it. At the top of the stairs, Killian stopped. He turned, watching her with an intensity that made her stomach tighten. The chandelier above cast golden shadows across his chiseled features, making him look even more dangerous than he already was.

All I had to do was; kill him slowly. Watch his life slip off him. Watch him fight for his life. That was the fun in killing. The joy I derived from seeing evil people suffering and fighting for their life was second to none. It was thrilling than a thriller drama, and the fun even gets more exciting. If the evil ones could kill hundreds of people just to get to the position that they were, why can't they also due and fill the pain the innocent feels. Soon, we got to his penthouse, but stopped far from the mansion.