We're Killing Strangers John Wick Novels & Stories

I wasn't thinking like a woman anymore; I was thinking like a weapon. A soft knock at the heavy steel door made me draw the Glock. I didn't ask who it was. I could tell by the weight of the step. "Sienna." It was Killian. He didn't break the door down. He didn't come in with a blade. He stood on the other side, his voice strained and hollow. "I killed them, Sienna. The cleanup crew. Adrian’s men. They’re all decorating the pavement in Queens." I walked to the door but didn't open it. "And Adrian? And your brother?"

His face is bidding in a mask was not helping him at all. John felt a liking for the unknown killer watching his feet moved swiftly, dodging the bullets effortlessly even it when it hit him, he did not flinch. The killer wielded his swords, blocking the incoming bullets toward him. The slashing, stabbing and blood spilling was too gruesome for someone who has a fragile mind but for John, it was like watching an action movie. “ Once I catch him, I'm taking training for him. He is so good.” John paused and minimized the video then went to a file. Scrolling down, he clicked on the third to the last video and play then the screen displayed Cisco's office.

But when the door swung open, we both paused. A man stood in our living room like he belonged there. He was in his late forties, his broad shoulders spoke of either gym time or violence, with sharp eyes that missed nothing. A slight limp favored his left leg, but he held himself like someone who'd learned to turn weakness into a weapon. Killian stepped in front of me instantly, his body ready for action. The stranger spoke first. “You've been busy, Wolfe.” “And I have been advised not to speak with the dead.” Killian's voice was flat.

Then another guy chimed in, “If they see her like this, they’ll think we kidnapped her.” “They’re not wrong,” I muttered under my breath, glancing at them. Tactical gear. Guns. Earpieces. The whole John Wick starter pack. If I didn’t know better, I would’ve assumed I was being dragged to my doom. Again. “We do look like assassins,” someone added cheerfully. “Don’t forget the guns.” I gave him a look. “Maybe don’t mention the guns when a girl’s already traumatized.” He smirked. I raised my hand like a peace negotiator. “Okay, hear me out—I’ll tell them I was being chased by a psychopath, and you guys picked me up. You gave me a ride to safety.”

The few people that were inside passing me a glance. "I'm the victim here Zara" I said in a low voice. "I'm just saying. You don't know what the future might hold" Zara and I are completely different when it comes to opinion. My opinion and hers doesn't always match. To kill off the never ending conversation, I turned my focus back to my food.

My sweet, gentle pups, Quilla and Quinlee remind me every day that while I may be a vicious killer, I have produced pups that are like their mother and should not be held responsible for my violent actions. With that in mind, I respond to Warren. “Yes, the less blood shed the better. There is only one person who needs to die today and that’s Christer. If the others stand down and no one threatens my family, they can live.” “Thank you,” he says. I glance at him. “Thank Kennedy. She’s my humanity.” “It’s your humanity, Quirin. She just brings it to the forefront,” he says. Damn the man for always seeming to know the right things to say.

Veronica Wick, Mister John Wicks wife says while she still had Calogero by her right side and then Mary in the other. “It’s past talking time. What do they want!?”John Wick whined as he headed towards the door with curved brows. “Just simple instructions. I can’t even spend some quality time with my family” He pushed forward with his grumbling while dressed in his black pajamas. He encircled the door knob and opened the door. His jaw dropped. His heart stopped whipping for a second. It’d be right to say that he lost all connection with the world as he saw five men all standing at the door with highly sophisticated guns. Even the air in the room froze.

“Now.” “No.” His hand found mine and squeezed weakly. “I’m begging you, Ariana,” he rasped. The stranger tilted his head, amused by our whispering. "Touching, really. But this ends now." Cole growled under his breath. “You want her,” he said, voice rough, “you’re gonna have to kill me first.” The stranger smirked. "That’s the plan." He lifted the gun. Straight at Cole. For one terrifying second, everything froze.

he repeated like he was telling me my takeout order was here. My mouth opened and then closed. Kate?Gone? Just like that? A weird cocktail of relief, shock and suspicion churned in my gut. This felt too easy.. way too easy. “I… what? How?” I stammered, looking from Lucius’s stern face to the stranger’s calm one. “You killed Kate Grimwood?” The stranger gave a single and slight nod. “Okay,” I dragged the word out. “So… yay? I think? I don’t know. This feels like the part in the horror movie where the monster is dead but the music is still scary.” I focused on the stranger. “Who are you?”

That for the third time in a row, in this god forsaken killing game, where no one can make it out alive, I had to kill the person who killed Risa.