Hello! Today I want to give you a little peek into my book, Murderous Masquerade. Below this note is the prologue to my novel. Please take a look and I hope you enjoy!
THEIR EYES FASCINATE ME.
As they lay there, with their bodies strapped down and voices caged by the chemicals I injected, it’s their eyes that speak. Usually, it’s the self-same tale. Rage. Regret. Sorrow. Pain.
I take my time, making sure I get to revel in all their stories. When the end comes, I see the final burst of emotion. Acceptance. They now acknowledge that I am god. Their god. I can give, and I will take away.
My heart thunders, the moment draws near. Any second and I will find it.
The young man on the table glares at me. The anguish swirling around his iris is a glorious sight to behold. But it’s not what I’m waiting for. I hold off just a little longer.
In the years I’ve been doing this, there have been those that resist the inevitable. He must be one of them. Strong-willed. Stubborn. It will make his surrender all the more delicious.
Here it comes.
I watch the muscles of his face go slack. Then I stare into his eyes, waiting for the recognition to light in a final flicker before they go dull. Come on. He doesn’t have much longer.
My eyelids narrow, the nerve at my temple twitches. His eyes show acceptance, but not the one I was searching for. He isn’t regarding me as a god—his reverence is elsewhere. His eyes go dark.
As with all the others I proceed through the motions to prepare the body for disposal. My enthusiasm always wanes once they’re dead. But now I have anger fighting for dominance of my mind. How dare he.
I can’t stand it. His vacant gaze that didn’t give me my due.
I seize a sledge hammer from the tray beside me. With a vicious swing, I bring the heavy metal down to his skull. A satisfying crack echoes against the walls. I bash his face in again and again until every bone shatters. His once healthy, boyish face now looks like a discarded Halloween mask.
I cast the tool aside and brush the splatter of blood and brain matter off my face and clothes with a gloved hand.
I must mislead any investigations. He’ll need to be disposed of in such a manner that explains his physical state. I know the perfect spot: the sheer drop off at the mountain ridge. An ‘accidental’ fall from that distance would undoubtedly cause such severe facial trauma. I grin as I take in my work. Another productive day.
If you’d like to purchase the book, or read for free on Kindle Unlimited, please click here. Available in Paperback and Kindle.