Thriller Teller Novels & Stories

The man screamed, spitting blood and fragments of teeth. “The first lie has a cost,” I explained, like a patient teacher. “Let’s try again. Conrad Schneider. The story about the pharmacist.” Blood dripped from Kessler’s chin. His eyes, now filled with understanding fear, met mine. “He… He paid me!” he choked out, his voice slurred. “It was just to tell a story! Some gossip! I didn’t know…”

He wanted to finish the sentence, to say ‘an unavoidable tragedy,’ ‘a random occurrence,’ but the bitter taste of the truth was already on his tongue. Because deep down, the chilling, undeniable certainty had already taken root in both their minds. James Whitaker was a murderer. And Evelyn had just become his next target. —--- Hunter had just ended a tense, highly technical call with Eleanor, her voice a rapid-fire stream of intel on James Whitaker’s hidden financial conduits and shadowy connections. He was already fuming, the pieces Eleanor had uncovered confirming his darkest suspicions about Whitaker’s past. His jaw was still rigid, his hand clenching the phone like a weapon.

I opened my phone and decided to talk with Kolten the moment read his handwritten message for me together with a dark gray hoodie that was in a black paper bag that has a note, telling me to take some rest. I decided to call Kolten as I turned on my phone, but even before I dialed his phone number, a message from another anonymous sender pop-up, signifying that I received a request message. I was nervous at first, but the moment I opened it, it was Kolten patting Lia's head near her house gate. I did not know how should I feel, but that was the moment I have decided to stop this craziness. As my phone rang, I swiped the green button to answer his call. "Kolten, let just stop this."

He said like some chaotic deranged bastard. "First of all, I'm no bitch, I'm a fucking assassin. Secondly," I responded while opening his mouth "I pay with the blood of others not mine" and with that, I cocked the gun, realizing the bullet down his throat. I peeled his blood off my face and licked it. I could feel his gagging on my gun in fear before I pulled the trigger. Bunch of freaks.

Tonight’s job had been gruesome, one of the worst Ted had had to deal with. Getting information from a rogue wolf about an organized criminal syndicate was a difficult job but as always, Ted was a patient man and his skills for torture were unmatched. It was a quality that made him one of the most respected Hunters in the city. So far he had been able to keep the Don safe from another assassination attempt and while it had been an ugly job, he had tonight and the next few days to forget about the gruesome nature of his job.

"They attacked a US citizen. They are covering up the murder of a federal agent by a drug cartel." I pull out the burner phone—the only one we have left. "We leak it," I say. "We don't need the physical pages. We need the story. We tell the Old Ladies to blast it everywhere. T*****r. F******k. The news tips lines. 'Corrupt ATF Agent Miller on Reaper Payroll.' 'Wolves MC Framed.' We name names. We give dates." "They'll never believe us," Riker mutters.

“Now you’ve got me intrigued.” My lips curved faintly. “Intrigued?” “How does a thief know how to navigate corporate negotiations and contract presentations?” I let out a quiet laugh. “Just because I’m a thief doesn’t mean I’m dumb.” I continued, “If anything, thieves are some of the smartest people alive.” That earned a quiet laugh from him, low and unexpected. “Is that so?” “Of course,” I replied. “You think stealing is easy? One wrong move and everything falls apart. You learn to think ahead and read people before they read you.”

He simply waited until the sheer coldness in his gaze forced Miller to release his grip. "Your suspect," Vance said, his voice smooth and clinical, "is Officer Elias Thorne. He is a disgraced, violent bigot with a well-documented history of psychological instability and domestic battery. His 'Prophecy' is the psychotic break of a man who realized his career was over. His son and his friend are currently listed as missing, presumed casualties of Thorne’s own violence. That is the story your captain will brief to the press at 6:00 AM. It is the only story that will exist."

So it's always good to let him speak less when it's not necessary. “Thirdly the killer has great knowledge about the human body that most doctors don't have and while torturing he always avoids the vital points that may cause his victims to bleed internally and die. And with the dead body, he gives a detailed autopsy report like a killing signature. So there's no doubt that the killer is a doctor or used to be a doctor or a genius medical student and the latter is the least possible.” “So then, What do we call him? Dr. Killer?” This time it was Mr. Gray who spoke.

She turned around when she heard light footsteps but there was no one there. Ever since what happened in the Othes forest, she'd been on high alert. For a moment, she thought someone was watching her. Maybe she was just being paranoid, Katherine thought as she sped up to her room and locked the door behind her. - [1] Someone's bottom line can be referred to as their principles or in the case of this book, the source of someone's power.