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Even at his tender age, the boy couldn’t understand why such broken people would choose to have children. Their pitiful lives were a series of devastating choices, each worse than the last, including that of having kids.
he fished out Mojca’s necklace from beneath his shirt. He gently pulled it free, exposing a small stone ankh symbol on a worn leather chain—a
Mojca tightened his grip around his brother’s hand, realizing one stark truth: that without his brother, he was utterly alone.
I rarely felt hungry. The thought of perishing was almost a relief to me, but in the end, I always forced myself to eat.
my mother coldly confessed she wished I had never been born.
Guilt and regret over Emanuel’s death haunted me. The events leading up to it, my own blunders, tormented my sleepless nights. Reliving every mistake that led to this, over and over, threatened my sanity.
who was I to insist that my perception of the world was the only truth?
But a glance at the politicians reminded me of the true message that this spectacle was conveying to the world. It wasn’t solely in my honor. It was also intended to demonstrate that Europe, after years of struggles, stood united through one of the most magnificent events in its modern history. And I was OK with that, as I, too, had come here with a hidden agenda. I had come to celebrate not Europe’s light but its underworld.
Amid this frenzy, I stood completely still, an island in a stormy sea. I listened and observed, feeling an overwhelming sense of emptiness, a profound solitude that contrasted starkly with the chaos around me. Despite being the epicenter of one of the biggest events in the history of the European Union, I felt utterly alone.
“Are you trying to tell me that the Train Track Killer—” I couldn’t even finish the sentence. “Is still alive,” she finished for me, turning to look straight into my eyes.
Patel’s profile never matched that of a genius serial killer. He was a brainless, sadistic follower.”
“He was working for him,” I finally said in a weak voice. “It does make more sense that way. Patel was a struggling psycho, yes, but a genius?” “Not so much,” Leah confirmed.
The Train Track Killer has never harmed children. Not once. He must see them as innocent, almost sacred, maybe a reflection of his own painful view of childhood.”
a sociopath is an out-of-control savage while a psychopath is a calculated genius.”
Her eyes narrowed briefly—was it disappointment at missing out on the thrill of torture? Or did my commanding tone unsettle her?
If Leah ever turned against me, how in the world would I outplay her?
She had become my sole ally in a game in which I’d crossed the point of no return. But could I truly place my trust in someone who regarded the dismembered remains of her former lover with less engagement than someone scrolling through reels on Instagram?
Leah Nachtnebel wasn't a hero, but in an era when darkness brought order to justice, a villain of her caliber was exactly what the world needed.
“A little parting gift from the families of Newcastle. They didn’t appreciate the poison you put into their water. And, frankly, neither did I. So the emphasis is on parting, I suppose.”
She jolted awake to the nightmare of his melting visage and chest—a horrifying blend of red flesh and white bone laid bare.
Her only other option would be for someone knowledgeable to snap it back into place before the swelling began. That would need to happen immediately. On impulse, I realigned her nose to its natural position. I didn’t stop there. Quickly, I pulled her underwear back up, then put the table’s cash into her purse.
That was oddly caring of Leah
Had that act been for him? A bid to sprinkle a dash of humanity over my actions tonight, knowing this case would inevitably land on his desk?
It almost pained me to admit this—almost—but the thought of Harvey being dead gave me an unsettling feeling of peace. He couldn’t harm anyone else ever again.
I wasn’t thrilled about bringing him along, but he wasn’t the sharpest tool in the shed, which could be an asset given my arrangement with Leah.
Lmao
I was taken aback by the fact that she’d questioned McCourt’s orders, especially given her role as his informant.
As I watched the police carry the mother and girl to safety, an overwhelming sense of justice and satisfaction filled me. It was a new yet profound feeling. I had removed a threat, a monster who posed a risk to others and would have continued to do so if not for my actions today.
The notion of cleansing the world of monsters felt infinitely more fulfilling than any applause I’d received as a pianist.
Dreams were foreign to me. I hadn’t had them since childhood. But this was the second one I’d had since meeting Agent Richter.
Since Emanuel’s death, I never allowed them to linger beyond their purpose: providing me with a brief escape.
A logical cover was of the utmost importance. Always.
There was no love between my parents and me. We maintained a relationship that was more transactional than familial.
Aside from these financial interactions and the obligatory phone calls from my father on Christmas and my birthday—which I reciprocated on their birthdays until my mother requested I stop—there was no contact.
“You disapprove of violence, then?” Mr. Novak asked. The irony of his question almost made me laugh. I thought of Harvey Grand and the satisfaction I’d derived from watching another predator dissolve, quite literally. “It’s not the violence that disturbs me but the motivation behind it,”
a species capable of reaching the moon should adhere to higher standards than mere primal instincts,” I continued. “Humans have moral reasoning and the capacity for ethical decision-making. This sets us apart from most animals. While certain animals might kill beyond their survival needs, interpreting this as ‘fun’ could misrepresent their actions.
I hesitated, suddenly rooted to the ground. It wasn’t easy to catch me off guard; in fact, I could recall only one other person who had managed to do so recently: Agent Richter. The precision of Novak’s question struck me, his inquiry as sharp as a scalpel.
Maybe he's the train track killer
“We theorize this interpretation could originate from the notion of the mirror as a reflection of one’s true essence or soul.”
There was something about that man . . . something deeply unsettling. It wasn’t like the darkness I’d come to recognize in the eyes of the monsters I hunted. Still, he had a strange quality that I couldn’t quite grasp.
My arrangement with Leah was beginning to make me feel like one of those crazy people who kept lions as pets until, one day, Simba got angry. What had worked for her and Larsen didn’t align with my principles.
when you wore the badge, there was a big difference between thinking something and voicing it out loud.
“Kinda wish our enemies would eliminate themselves. Would save this country lives and money.” “No kidding,” I murmured,
It appeared we had a mole. There was no other explanation for the press’s rapid mobilization.
Cowboy, on the other hand, cheerfully pulled out a small Ziplock bag from the inside of his fancy jacket. The bag contained makeup, primarily in the form of powders and similar items. "Hmm?" He offered some to Rose, whose face was a blend of utter annoyance and disbelief.
Lmao wow really ?
“Fucking traitors indeed,” I mumbled, thinking of the irony here. The monster everyone was clamoring over was dead because of me, yet now everyone saw me as his protector.
he pulled out a sticker depicting a human skull with bony hands giving the middle finger above the bold proclamation “Two Wrongs Can Make a Right.” Then he slapped it onto the casket for the whole world to see—a parting gift from his unit, a sinister greeting sent straight to hell.
In the US, classical music wasn’t as big as it was in Europe and Asia. That allowed me a degree of anonymity among Gen Z as well as freedom from the prying eyes of journalists hungry for tabloid fodder. Maintaining this obscurity was crucial,
The realization struck the moment the mug became wet—the unmistakable stench of feces. I was shocked, and the mug slipped from my grasp, shattering into tiny pieces before me. Somehow, dog feces must have mixed with the mud I collected.” Mr. Hubble shifted uncomfortably in his seat. A hint of disappointment flickered across his face.
Eww
I can’t ignore the truth.” “And that is?” I asked. His eyes met mine with an intensity that felt like a physical force. “That my entire empire was built on shit.”
To amass such wealth without genuine concern for those in poverty mirrors a lack of empathy. Billionaires like yourself often support a political system that solidifies your elite status and supports a cycle of hardship for the less fortunate.
“Most of these friendships stem from my darker days. Some of them are sincere. Others are afraid of me.
“I don’t know when or where, but someday, an FBI agent will approach you and ask for your help. It’s important you do as he says.” Luca’s eyes narrowed. “Which will be?” The floral scent of the vast gardens now felt heavy. “Something that might seem horrific at first, but only you can—” “No, Leah, not that,” he said.
Oh so she thinks Liam will ask his help to put her down
