History does seem to be just one long succession of murders, doesn't it?
Jeanne M. DamsAnd the blood remembers what the heart has never learned. The approach to kill. ("The Moon Of Montezuma")
Cornell WoolrichStichwörter: murder killing kill blood
On hands and knees the figure comes pacing along beside the wall that flanks the patio, lithe, sinuous, knife in mouth perpendicular to its course. In moonlight and out of it, as each successive archway of the portico circles high above it, comes down to join its support, and is gone again to the rear.
The moon is a caress on supple skin. The moon of Anahuac understands, the moon is in league, the moon will not betray. ("The Moon of Montezuma")
Stichwörter: murder moon night killing
To spare Cloyce's victims further indignities to their memory, I must be a scourge. To prevent others from perhaps being infected by Cloyce's depravity by watching him at work, I must be a scourge. To prevent time management technology from falling into the hands of authorities who, if not already corrupt, would be corrupted by it, I must be a scourge.
Scourges aren't heroes.
I had never imagined myself to be a hero, but never had I imagined I would be this.
Scourges transgress against social and sacred order.
A scourge went into darker territory than that. A scourge was not compelled to kill by mental imbalance or emotional confusion or selfish desire. A scourge made a carefully reasoned decision to kill in numbers that exceeded what was absolutely necessary to ensure self-preservation and the defense of the innocent. Even if he killed for the right reason, he was in rebellion against social order and commanding authority.
Who scourges will be scourged. In fulfilling this dark role in Roseland, I would bring about my own death.
Yet I knew I would not retreat from my decision.
Stichwörter: murder killing scourge anti-hero
The police have asked for my help. There's been a murder."
"A murder! Oh, my. Let me just change my shoes," Evie said excitedly. "It won't be a minute.
Stichwörter: murder shoes evie
I should fancy, however, that murder is always a mistake. One should never do anything that one cannot talk about after dinner.
Oscar WildeStichwörter: murder humour conscience
Achilles might be a good papa to the family, but he was also a killer, and he never forgives.
Poke knew that, though. Bean warned her, and she knew it, but she chose Achilles for their papa anyway. Chose him and then died for it. She was like that Jesus that Helga preached about in her kitchen while they ate. She died for her people. And Achilles, he was like God. He made people pay for their sins no matter what they did.
The important thing is, stay on the good side of God. That's what Helga teaches, isn't it? Stay right with God.
I'll stay right with Achilles. I'll honor my papa, that's for sure, so I can stay alive until I'm old enough to go out on my own.
Stichwörter: murder god forgiveness jesus survival metaphor bean achilles-de-flandres poke
She had signed her own death-warrant. He kept telling himself over and over that he was not to blame, she had brought it on herself. He had never seen the man. He knew there was one. He had known for six weeks now. Little things had told him. One day he came home and there was a cigar-butt in an ashtray, still moist at one end, still warm at the other. There were gasoline-drippings on the asphalt in front of their house, and they didn't own a car. And it wouldn't be a delivery-vehicle, because the drippings showed it had stood there a long time, an hour or more. And once he had actually glimpsed it, just rounding the far corner as he got off the bus two blocks down the other way. A second-hand Ford. She was often very flustered when he came home, hardly seemed to know what she was doing or saying at all.
He pretended not to see any of these things; he was that type of man, Stapp, he didn't bring his hates or grudges out into the open where they had a chance to heal. He nursed them in the darkness of his mind. That's a dangerous kind of a man.
If he had been honest with himself, he would have had to admit that this mysterious afternoon caller was just the excuse he gave himself, that he'd daydreamed of getting rid of her long before there was any reason to, that there had been something in him for years past now urging Kill, kill, kill. Maybe ever since that time he'd been treated at the hospital for a concussion.
("Three O'Clock")
Stichwörter: murder jealousy crime affair homicide concussion cuckold
Annabelle, I'm going to kill you!" I cried, frowning at the mess. Then I glanced down the stairway and gasped.
It looked like someone had beaten me to it.
Stichwörter: murder mystery suspense thriller
Leila dreamt that her Soul was on fire. It was not a nightmare. Shannon was in the dream. Shannon was telling her to wake up. She woke up, burning as if she had a fever, nearly soaking wet with sweat. Kevin was asleep beside her.
H Raven RoseStichwörter: murder soul dream fire angel dark-eros
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