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Sinner Collection: The Deathbringer
Sinner Collection: The Deathbringer
Sinner Collection: The Deathbringer
Ebook57 pages42 minutes

Sinner Collection: The Deathbringer

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Four stories about The SInner and his constant desire to kill. In this collection he will face off with Mexican and Italian mobsters, steal a gang boss's daughter's cherished heirloom, invade Area 51 in search of a special prize, and experience a chance meeting with one of his kind.

LanguageEnglish
Release dateDec 7, 2011
ISBN9781465972460
Sinner Collection: The Deathbringer
Author

Kenneth Guthrie

Kenneth Guthrie is a writer of sci-fi, fantasy and crime novels.Profile image credit: Vincent Gerbouin at Pexels.com

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    Book preview

    Sinner Collection - Kenneth Guthrie

    SINNER COLLECTION: THE DEATHBRINGER

    Kenneth Guthrie

    Copyright 2011 Lunatic Ink Publishing

    Find more at Kenneth Guthrie’s Book List

    TABLE OF CONTENTS

    Blood Soaked

    Club Kill

    Area 51

    Fight To The Death

    BLOOD SOAKED

    KILLING TIME

    Franky Malone starred up at the dark shadowed man with the one eye glowing bright red. It was and would be forever the craziest thing he had ever seen in his life.

    The man’s hand came down to grip Franky by the neck.

    Where is it?

    The gravel stained voice of an enraged animal put fear into the heart of this long time perp. Franky started to stutter out that he didn’t know what the man was talking about and that the man would have to try someone else, but that wasn’t going to work. He knew this kind of man – he thought he was this sort of man until he met the real thing. This one would not take no for an answer.

    The red eye came closer. Frank realized that it was more than just the light in the alleyway or some illusion. This guy’s eye was actually glowing. It was a nasty red color that made Franky somehow a little sick.

    He hung in the alleyway choking, hoping for some sort of inspiration. Nothing came and the hand dug into the sides of his neck as he turned red.

    Surprisingly, the hand released him and he fell to the ground to cough up wades of spittle into the trash that lined the little space.

    The black coat of the man brushed Frank’s face as whoever this guy was turned to leave.

    Frank choked for a long time before getting up again. He had no idea why he was still alive. That man had been on the verge of killing him – he had felt his intent – but had chosen not too; things didn’t fit well in his mind. If it had been him on the giving end he would have killed the man he was holding up with only one hand.

    The man could of and didn’t and that scared Franky. Something was afoot and he wasn’t sure if he wanted to be involved in it.

    He picked up the case from the ground. The strangler hadn’t taken that either. It all felt wrong (1,000,000 in drug money wasn’t such a small prize).

    He limped into the street. No one in either direction. He hot stepped it to his car. He was going to deliver this damn thing and then take a little holiday out of town while whatever was going on cooled down. It seemed the best decision at the time.

    ****

    Nothing fazed him. Nothing caused him fear. The trunk was hot, but he barely breathed. The night called him wickedly through the connection it had with his unreal eye. He cared only for seeing his task done. Nothing more, nothing less. Only then would peace come his way.

    ****

    Franky pulled his ugly chevy into the small parking lot outside the bar. This was where he was supposed to hand over the money to the Mexicans for laundering. He didn’t like nor trust the Mexicans, but his boss did and that was what was important.

    He slipped out of the car unaware of the dark shape that slid out of his trunk and pressed itself in to a crouch behind the vehicle.

    Franky was busy. Mulling things over,

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