Serialmurderer Stories

As people get older, do they ever really change, and if they do, is it for better, or worse?

This book is not for the faint of heart, nor Those who want a happy ending, This book is for people like me, Jasper Mallory, People who sat on the sidelines taking the punches, suffering in silence, People who have given up on society, people who want to watch the world burn. I am no hero, infact I'm quite the opposite. But I only ever did what I was told was best. But those tales were lies. Those I was ment to trust with my life were those who tired to end it. The people I was ment to trust were the ones who betrayed me most. I am Jasper Mallory a serial killer known as the bloodied rose. ~~~~~~ TW If you value your sanity whatsoever do not read this ~pie

Flowey [Serial Murderer], The antagonist of the Underground, might not be the roots of evil. Maybe, someone else is.

18? Ano nga ba ang meron sa numerong ito? For Kit, this is just a normal number, a number that can be found anywhere. She believed that this number is just one of a thousand numbers that are existing to provide convenience for the people, to pay rent, food, other expenses and even to manage her time. For Vince, this number is his lucky charm. Every good thing that is happening to Vince is because of this number. Everything that is associated with this number will turn out to be good. That's what he believes. But what will happen if one day this number will bring chaos to the lives of many people?

What if a killer didn't just murder - but forced one victim to decide the fate of another? A series of murders shakes a quiet countryside town. At every crime scene, the pattern repeats itself: bodies from the same family, survivors marked by impossible decisions, and a poem that lingers in the minds of those left alive. Assigned to the case, young detective Na-moo Hwang realizes the murders follow the same cruel game that terrorized the town twelve years earlier - a game that was never truly brought to an end. Amid a lack of clues and an increasingly tangled web of suspects, Na-moo is forced to work alongside Amélie, a forensic psychologist whose presence becomes a problem from their very first meeting... literally. To uncover the face behind the crimes, the two must reconstruct a past shaped by guilt, choices, and scars. Because this time, surviving may not be the same as escaping. 16+ [This story won Wattys 2022 in Portuguese with its original version, Ou Isto Ou Aquilo] © 2020 All rights reserved. » Plagiarism is a crime, don't be part of the dark side of strength ♡ » I don't authorize adaptations ♡

A story of survival a story about 5 teenagers surviving the zombie apocalypse. With some government conspiracy thrown in. Beware updates will be whenever I have access to WiFi for more than 2 minutes. This is the first story I have ever published and it is unedited. If you notice any mistakes please stick them in the comments good bye bbear princess out.

After escaping England and leaving behind treacherous paths, William and Charles proceed with a much happier and secure life in Germany. No one knows of William's past murder sprees and they can live on without being suspected of anything... that is until an unexpected German serial murderer crosses paths with them. William is very cautious knowing of this murderer and decides it's best to track him to make sure this fiend doesn't single-handedly take down his and his family's secure life.

Rae Wilder has problems. Plunged into a world of dark magic, fierce creatures and ritual sacrifice, she is charged with a guarding a magical amulet. Rae finds herself beaten up, repeatedly, and forced to make a choice: to live and die human, or embrace her birth-right and wield magics that could turn her into something wicked, a force of nature nothing can control. Book Example: "Let me go, you don't understand what will happen. My brothers-" The Lord Cleric punched her. Her head flew back and a spray of blood wet the dry mud and spattered over the leaves concealing me. Face wet with tears and whimpering, she tried to crawl toward the trees and dragged up clumps of earth with her fingernails. "You must let me go." The words sounded muffled, like she had a mouthful of something foul. The Lord Cleric executed a neat half turn and stamped on her thigh. There was a sharp snap, like I'd picked up a twig and yanked on the ends until the fibers split apart and cracked open. The fairy's leg buckled into an unnatural shape and she screamed. The sound was guttural, a direct translation of pain to sound. I slapped a hand over my mouth to smother my own shriek. Not because of the broken bone, I'd seen and heard tons of those, but because I'd caught the Lord Clerics profile and recognized the handsome face.