Totally Killer Novels & Stories

I don’t look over my shoulder and just keep looking at the dessert, knowing somehow he wouldn’t want me to see him like this. After a couple of harsh breaths, Killer continues with a cold voice, probably trying to detach himself from the memories as much as possible. “Ten fucking man for just one woman who couldn’t even defend herself. My mom was a small woman, same height as you. She made up for it with her character but that obviously wouldn’t work on them. They tortured her for hours, raped her and dismembered her body. In our own fucking house, leaving her body parts scattered around the house like a scavenger-hunt for my dad to find. I never left my room and they somehow never looked fo

None of them had gotten it right. The real thing standing in my doorway, catching the light from my hall lamp was something else entirely. It was not costume. It was not theater. It was a specific, intentional, centuries-old object, and it was being worn by a man who had chosen it the way a man chooses a signature. The Verdict Killer was standing in my living room. I want to be precise about what that meant. Because if you live outside this city, or if you don’t read the tabloids, or if you don’t listen to the podcasts — you might think he was just one more name on one more news cycle.

“Fine. Do whatever you want.’’ I slap the knife hard on the table and march out of the room without another glance back. It is only after I step out and the door bursts open after me I realise that someone was on my tail. I secretly hope it'd be Xendaya, but his stuffy scent fills my nostrils almost immediately and my muscles clench. ‘‘Alpha…’’ I turn and drive my fist straight into his nose, sending him staggering back heavily. He almost hit the wall. “Have you gone nuts?!’’ He quickly finds his balance and stands, wiping blood from his nose. “That's Jake. I know he has been gone for long but he was still your gamma.’’ “My gamma who has lived and served in Crystal Moon pack for four years.

From behind his back, he pulled out a sharp utility knife he had prepared before coming home and decided to personally destroy Nova, the demon who had killed me. "You don't get to replace Tina after killing her. You're not worthy." Right after saying that, he lunged forward and ruthlessly slashed the knife across Nova's neck. "Crack!" The knife sliced through her throat, exposing a chaotic mess of multicolored wires. Electricity crackled loudly, and the sweet smile on her face froze. She tried to speak, but the sounds she could make were only distorted glitch noises. Moments later, her body collapsed heavily onto the floor, and the light in her eyes went dark. She never moved again.

she says as she turns the laptop to me. All I catch is shadowed images of a man's form. Nothing that gets his face up close in any of the shots. Sarissa scrolls down countless images of countless horror deadlines as she continues talking. “They say that he is dangerous,” she says, laughing like it was the funniest thing in the world when she comes across posts and articles highlighting his horrors. “They say he is a vile, wicked killer. No-mercy man. Always ready to put a bullet in the head of anyone who dares to cross him or betray him.” She looks at me, eyes crinkling with excitement, derangement and pure anticipation. “Isn't that perfect?”

The scar on his eye was angry red. Behind him stood Damian. Her murderer. Her fiancé. Seeing him made Arielle’s blood boil. The Void surged. Kill him, it whispered. Rip his throat out. Arielle clenched her fists. Not yet, she told the monster. Wait. "Lycian," Kaelen said smoothly. He didn't stand up. "You look well." "For a terrorist." Lycian sat opposite him. He didn't touch the tea. "Self-defense, Kaelen."

"What I wanted to ask you was... did you see anything else on him? Something sparkling? A golden chain necklace, or a ring?" More annoyance surfaced in my expression as I glared at him. "I resembled a zombie then. I was so exhausted that I probably wouldn't notice him wearing a golden jacket. I wouldn't even notice him passing me by if it weren't for this fucking wallet." "I see…" He gave me a thin-lipped smile. "Well, the killer cut off his little finger before he or she... did the rest, so I hoped that maybe you saw something." Dread filled me, making me nauseous. "Someone cut off his finger and then ripped his throat?" I said, nearly breathlessly.

We picked a nearby coffee shop for our meeting. "Hi baby," Nick said as I blushed and hugged him. " Hold on lovebirds, won't I also get a hug?" Kate teasing said. "I have something to tell you both and I would appreciate it if isn't viewed as ridiculous" I stated. I explained the nightmares I always had after my father's death and the circumstances that unfold with people's death as a result of the old hag's ritual. They both looked at me but were trying to make sense of it, I explained further about the dream I had and how I suspected they were the next victims which I needed to avert.

All right, let’s start over. My name is Sarah Killian, and I am a professional serial killer. No, goddammit, I am not a mother-fucking assassin, goddammit. Sorry. Again. That was my Tourette’s. I just have issues with assassins. They’re jackasses. Every. Single. Last. One. Jackasses. Let’s just say that it’s no coincidence the word starts with two asses, because one ass is not enough for those douche bags.

However, Killian is an enemy. As Tiffany continued to train in the forest, unaware of the presence watching her, Killian Montgomery, a formidable enemy, observed her every move with a calculating gaze. Killian was a werewolf from a rival pack, driven by a deep-seated vendetta against Tiffany's family. Killian had spent years honing his abilities, becoming an expert in masking his scent and remaining undetected. He knew that Tiffany possessed incredible powers, and he saw her as a threat to his own plans for dominance. Killian believed that by eliminating Tiffany, he could weaken her family's influence and seize control for himself.