#brutal murder

[clemicious]

#brutal murder

First thing you see after you zoom in is how you die

How you dying 👀

[rightnewshindi]

भारतीय छात्र के हत्यारे को कोर्ट ने सुनाई 60 साल जेल की सजा, चाकू मारकर बेरहमी से की थी हत्या

Indian Student’s Killer Sentenced In US: अमेरिका में पढ़ाई करने गए भारत के तेलंगाना के एक छात्र वरुण राज पुचा की हत्या के मामले में एक अमेरिकी अदालत ने ऐतिहासिक फैसला सुनाया है। अदालत ने भारतीय छात्र के हत्यारे को 60 साल कैद की सजा सुनाई है। रिपोर्ट्स के मुताबिक, अमेरिका के 25 वर्षीय जॉर्डन एंड्रेड ने वरुण राज पुचा की चाकू से बेरहमी से हत्या कर दी थी। उसने 29 अक्टूबर 2023 को वलपरिसो में प्लैनेट…

[youngstarspk]

Dr. Moumita Debanath: Horrific Incident

A wake-up call against gender violence Dr. Moumita Debanath, a brilliant 31-year-old doctor, was sexually assaulted and tragically killed at Kolkata Hospital on August 8, 2024. This news shocked the medical community and the whole nation of India. The hospital failed to protect her. It also raises questions about the organization of hospitals and what the purpose of security guards and camera…

[sydzilla22]

Unlikely Friend - Chapter 1

A night where you were supposed to die leaves you stuck with a new roommate and an unlikely friend. So, what will you decide to do with this killer? Will you be friends? Enemies? More? Less? Only time will tell.

I want to mention that while Ghostface in this story is very much a killer, he is not straight from any of the movies. I have changed the character's name, appearance, and personality while keeping some aspects of him the same. While the idea of Ghostface is not my own and is the creators of the Scream movies, the one within my story has been altered to my liking. Please respect that. If you don't enjoy my story, please don't read it. I don't mind.

Feel free to comment any ideas for one-shots regarding horror characters (or others). I always like looking at requests and will get around to them if I like them.

(This is from my AO3, and I am moving it over here because I'm proud of it :D)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

           You didn't know he was there, but he was; he perched himself up in the giant oak tree in her backyard, black laced boots pressed into the bark as he sat on one of the branches that allowed him a perfect view into your bedroom. He didn't wear a flowy costume, and he didn't have a partner. He worked alone; that was how he liked it, and he didn't appreciate some stupid movies portraying it that way. Black jeans with matching black boots adorned his feet and legs, his belt holding the precious sheath for his knife that he was currently sharpening against the tree's wood. He wore a tight black T-shirt with a black jacket with leather sleeves. Yes, he loved the color black. Last but not least, his head was covered by his trademark mask, the one that very few people had the chance of seeing and living to tell the tale. After all, he was Ghostface.

            And you, you were his next victim, but you didn't know that quite yet. You didn't know that as you walked around the kitchen preparing what looked like a bowl of popcorn to watch some movie. He loved movies. He'd been watching you for a couple of days now so that he could figure out your schedule. You worked at a library, and yet somehow, you had a relatively nice house in the middle of nowhere, he hadn't dug into it, but he assumed that your parents left you a nice sum of money—them or someone else.

            He slipped his knife back into its sheath when he was content with how sharp it was and adjusted his gloves back onto his hands; not an inch of his skin was showing. He cleared his throat roughly and let his thumb find the 'on' button of his voice changer; he clicked it and felt the soft vibration of it turning on against his throat.

            It was time.

            He took out his phone and went to the keypad to dial the number he had memorized days before; it was your number. He had found it in your files when he visited you at the library, and you went to the bathroom, not even knowing he was there. He hadn't even had his mask on, you could've seen his identity, but no, your nose was buried in your book even while you were supposed to be working.

            He watched as you heard the sound of your phone chiming throughout the house, and he patiently waited, his eyes trained on your every movement. Finally, without much pause, you picked up the phone and greeted him with a soft:

            "Hello?"

            The sound of deep breathing was all you could hear on the phone, and your brows furrowed in confusion as you debated hanging up the call. That was before you listened to the gentle response to the greeting you spoke earlier.

            "Hello, there…" rang the neutral voice on the other end of the line, with little emotion in their tone. "Would you like to play a game with me?"

            The question slightly put you off, but you were only watching a movie right now, so you supposed you had time to talk to whomever it was on the other end of the line. "It depends on what kind of game it is."

            A chuckle came over the line, and you figured this person liked your response to their question. "Well, it's a straightforward game. You like scary movies, don't you?"

            "I'm not sure what gave that away, but I enjoy scary movies. Why do you ask?"

            "Well, you see, this game is about scary movies. So I will ask you three questions from your horror movie of choice, and if you can't answer all of them, I'll kill you."

            A beat of silence ran through the air as you replayed what they had just said in your head several times and heavily debated hanging up. Your fingers twitched on the back of the phone as you looked out your window and around the inside of your living room; there was no way they knew where you lived, right? They were probably just some horror fanatic wanting to prank someone and thought it was hilarious to get a rise out of you. Well, you didn't know it was funny. As you were about to slam the phone back down on the receiver, you heard the voice on the other end of the line speak your name very firmly. How do they know my name?

            "I wouldn't hang up if I were you. As soon as you do, I'm cutting the powerline, and you'll be alone with me in complete darkness. Does that sound fun?" The voice sounded incredibly menacing, and you could feel a chill run up your spine, but the lack of tone told you that somebody ran it through a voice masker. There could be anyone on the other side of the line; you would never know who. You reluctantly let out a sigh and answered him.

            "All right, fine, I'm not hanging up."

            "I can see that. Now, why don't we get back to our little game?"

            The coils in your stomach sickeningly tightened as you swallowed away your fear, took a deep breath to try, and still the pounding of your hammering heart. "Okay, I'd like to pick the original Halloween movie."

            "Ah, that is a good one…hmm, let's see."

            The silence over the line as he thought up a question was deafening, and you could feel yourself becoming more panicked, but you had watched that movie hundreds of times; you had to know all the answers to any possible question he could ask.

            "I have one for you…what was the original title of Halloween?"

            You could've sworn you had never heard of Halloween ever having a different name, but you racked your brain through all of the media, interviews, and news reports on this movie you had seen and brought an answer to the forefront of your mind. "The Babysitter Murders, that was what the movie originally was titled."

            "Mmm, very good. I guess you know the movie better than I thought you would."

            "I guess I do."

            "Let's see if you know this one. Why can't Michael be killed?"

            You also knew the answer to this one; you heard it at some point when you went to a horror festival a few seasons ago. "They can't kill Michael because he is the victim of an ancient Druid curse, the curse of Thorn."

            "I'm surprised you got that one too."

            You were proud of yourself, and you couldn't help the soft smile that had grown at the corners of your lips; just one more, you could hang up this phone call and get back to watching The Conjuring. "What's the last one, then?"

            "How many different people portrayed Michael in the 1978 film?"

            "Six, that one's too easy!"

            The sound of a chuckle growing louder over the line told you that you were mistaken. But there were six, you were sure of it! Young Michael had two, another without the mask, the leading silent actor, another in the closet, and the stuntman, that was it! Wait, no, no, that wasn't it, and there was one more when he killed the dog. Shit, there were seven.

            "Goodbye."

            The loud sound of someone cutting the power had a scream ripping from your throat as you threw the phone on the counter and grabbed your giant kitchen knife in your hand. You ran up the stairs to your bedroom because you had the best chance of surviving there.

[lavender-menace-420]

AU where the others find out Jon is going to explore the tunnels in Season 2 and forcefully tag along (Sasha is alive and everything is fine)

I made a part 2!

[ribcagesayshi]

HES SO SORRY GUYS D: he accidentally dropped his axe :c

[jouxlskaard]

elias in hades, perchance?

if tma were a hades-style roguelike I think it'd be entertaining to have elias just show up like a little bitch and give you tasks that eventually give you rewards. I don't think he'd show up as the final boss until much later on in the story (equivalent to the hades epilogue) where he'll become the eye's pupil and the player (presumably jon) has to kill him to stop the eyepocalypse or smth (don't question my thought process too much I haven't actually rationalised it all in my head yet lol)

[news-34]

367 रुपयासाठी अल्पवयीन मुलाने केली हत्या

[danielleurbansblog]

Meet This Author: Katie Marie

Q: Tell us about your debut novella, A Man in Winter. My debut novella, A Man in Winter, follows the story of Arthur, whose life was devastated by the brutal murder of his wife. He is also coming to terms with his diagnosis of dementia. At the start of the novella, he moves into a new home at a retirement community, and shortly after, his life is turned upside down when his wife’s ghost visits…

[hemi-demi]

Elias would have zero tolerance for externals in his Archives.

But also Mr. Bonzo would probably just eat him. Especially after being so damn rude 😞

Original:

My partner sent me a photo he found and I knew what had to be done.

I debated very heavily on whether he should wear the skirt and bloomers, but I'm already losing the plot with the crossover a bit.

[mita-vittua-olivia]

was about to go to sleep, remembered this parallel. rip hammer you will always be famous

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Dead beat down

[First] Prev <–-> Next

[thermodynamic-comedian]

just realized tomorrow is the anniversary of brutal pipe murder. and a new tmagp episode is dropping today.

gwendolyn bouchard has the opportunity to do the funniest thing,

[oh-shit-i-spilled-my-genderfluid]

I wonder if Gwen’s gonna brutal pipe murder Lena to get that job

[bossymarmalade]

Installation view of Freedom Square: The Black Girlhood Altar at the Chicago Cultural Center

The exhibition at the Chicago Cultural Center opens with the installation “Homegoing.” The work is a suspended image depicting a screenshot from Ma’Khia Bryant’s personal TikTok. In the photo she’s laying her edges, her jet-black hair shining, her baby face clean and free of makeup. Below the printed photo is a collection of candles, stuffed animals, and a bouquet. On April 20, 2021, Ma’Khia was killed by an Ohio police officer in what was later determined a justifiable homicide. She was 16 years old. 

In the gallery titled Rest and Recess: The Courtyard, the exhibition transports the viewer to the Caribbean where Black girls play together unburdened and hopeful. A tree, sculpted by Robert Narciso and made from branches from Rekia Boyd’s family home, sits in the center of the room casting a protective shadow over everything. From its branches hang yellow paper hearts scribed with the hopes and dreams of little Black girls. The sound of their joyful cacophony activates the space.

[ x ]

[kropotkindersurprise]

Me, a serious journalist, when the NYPD shoot a man multiple times, shoot a random woman in the leg, shoot another random bystander in the head (just a graze, no biggie!), and shoot a cop in the stomach, because they were trying to stop someone from evading the $2.90 fare:

"Police said bullets had struck an officer and various people"