The Death Club (Dead Men Walking, #1)

by Caroline Peckham

There were some things in life which most people believed. ‘Santa isn’t real.’ ‘No girl enjoys butt stuff.’ ‘Killing is bad.’ But not me. I believed the exact opposite of all those things. And you know what? I was happier for it. I’d shoot down Santa in a rain of blood and glory and find one hell of a freaking meaning to that. Merry fucking Christmas, dickmunch. Thanks for the lack of presents, I’ll make up for it with my new set of flying reindeer.

People always hated others for being different, but really they just hated themselves for being average.

I’d always been good at that. Running from my problems, running from responsibilities, running from mall security, cops, but call me boastful, my real speciality lay in running from creepy ass dudes under bridges.

I blamed the wish I’d made on my eleventh birthday. Endless adventure? Fucking dumbass. I’d read enough books to know endless adventure was a curse, not a gift. Just look at Frodo Baggins! He was almost eaten by a giant spider and that wasn’t even the worst day of his life. Bilbo had tried to warn him, but did he listen? Oh no, he went off on his little hobbity adventure and look at all the monsters he’d faced. I’d wished for the same, but my monsters weren’t spiders – which I actually had a fondness for, just check out the badass tattoo on my forearm of a web and the little spider hanging down by my thumb – my monsters were people. And people were sick. People did psycho stuff for fun. I should know. I was one of them.

Of course, thinking of my wife made me think about the state her corpse had been in when I finally got her back. Too late. Too fucking late. Time hadn't meant a whole lot to me since that day.

Although I had heard that there were some people who liked reading stories like mine about fucked up men like me and fantasised about taking them to bed, so maybe that was where I’d find my people. The readers who understood that sometimes a bit of choking was perfectly acceptable or maybe even desirable and wouldn’t judge me for it.

Daisy by Ashnikko came on as the ads finished and I inhaled deeply, nicotine searing my lungs and giving me a moment's reprieve from the monotonous misery of my life. It wasn't that my life was oh so fucking terrible really, more that it was oh so fucking empty and pointless since I'd failed the only woman ever foolish enough to love me.

what a song omg

Yeah, this one was dead. But there were more of them out there. Maybe an endless amount. The world really was a lonely, cruel place to exist in when you were me.

Was there anything worse than an ugly dick? Maybe a cake that had been used as a sex toy, but aside from that I couldn’t think of a damn thing.

I wished just once in my life I could meet a man who didn’t want to rob me of something. My innocence, my body, my life. It was exhausting fighting to own stuff that was supposed to belong to me inherently.

She was wild, brutal, clearly untrained but also full of that fire which I recognised so easily because it burned in me too. She was a kindred soul. Someone so full of pain and hate that the only cure for it was violence. I knew that feeling well. And I wanted to get a taste of hers.

Some people claimed that killing wasn’t a talent, but they were damn wrong. It was an art form that was wildly underappreciated, but I could tell she knew that as well as I did. She got it.

The look in her electric blue eyes was what held me captive. She was wild and furious and filled with a need I knew too well. She wanted to make the world bleed. And she may just have met the man able to help her do it.

I wasn't entirely sure what I was going to do with my new pet when I got her home. All I knew was that I hadn't wanted to leave a girl who fought like she did in that place to be destroyed by the monsters who frequented it. I guessed I'd just have to figure the rest out. Ah well, the best ideas were always formed of chaos and spontaneity. And I got the feeling this might just be one of my greatest decisions yet.

Podría destruirte tan bellamente - I could destroy you so beautifully.

If you go down to the woods today, you’re sure of a big surprise. For every beast that ever there was will gather there for certain because, today’s the day the monsters will tear you to pieces.

I hated that I wasn’t over that night. Was it always going to torture me? Did I have to relive it for the rest of my life? Forever and ever and ever until I was nothing but dust and bad memories?

I’d always wanted to kill a Lionel. There was something about that name which just screamed evil overlord to me, and I felt it was best to rid the population of them just in case they ever tried to rise up and rule the world like some kind of megalomaniac dragon king.

writing books about psychos in a magical prison for Fae who are all ruled by the stars and the zodiac and the lead character would be this badass werewolf girl who wants to break out a hot, tattooed incubus with a pierced dick and-”

Sorry if you saw that, Satan, but I have a second boyfriend now, kay?

"Te destriparé como a un cerdo uno de estos días," I spat at him, but it only made his smile widen. "You wanna say that in English so I can slap your bitch face for it?" Niall challenged, stalking closer to us.

Because I was seriously close to the point of no return, of laying a claim on her and all that she was and making this dark obsession become a living, breathing fantasy which I would never allow to end.

We were both just broken creatures lingering on in this world looking for vengeance or redemption or both. But it would never come. The past is done and the future is fucked.

I’m a pretty little Fae with lilac hair being screwed by a sexy snake man in the land of Solaria.