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I Won't Be A Murder Victim (Again)! Novel Cover

I Won't Be A Murder Victim (Again)!

At 2:00 a.m., J reluctantly agrees to help his younger brother, Chad, by picking up a delivery downstairs. Despite a broken foot, J steps out, only to be hit by a sudden psychic stream of comments. These voices reveal a terrifying truth: the delivery man is a murderer, and Chad has intentionally used J as a human shield. Finding the apartment door locked from the inside, J is trapped in the hallway as the elevator chimes, signaling the killer’s arrival.
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Chapter 3

"Mom, I need help! Chad's going to get me killed!" I said.

"Jason, how dramatic do you want to be? You're just taking care of your brother," she snapped. "And don't feed me that. Chad's the sweetest boy in the world. You're the one who's always been a troublemaker. Don't you feel even a little embarrassed accusing him of the kind of things you'd do?"

She sounded more irritated than concerned.

"Don't ever call me in the middle of the night again."

The line went dead. I tried to call her back, but she had already turned off her phone.

Desolation settled over me. My parents had always been like this. Chad would run his mouth, spin some lie, and suddenly nothing I said could possibly be true. It hurt to realize that nothing had changed.

I was on the eighth floor. The stairwell was long and steep, not meant for running, but I could not stop. I kept going until a metallic taste filled my throat.

I nearly slipped several times. The sound of footsteps behind me never faded, so I forced myself to keep moving.

When I reached the ground floor, I glanced at the comments.

[No! Don't go down the stairs, man!]

[Teddy locked the outside door when he first entered the apartment, J! You can't get out that way!]

I froze, and my knees weakened. Still, the pounding steps behind me sent a fresh surge of adrenaline through my body.

If the exit ahead was a dead end, then this was where I would die.

The killer's footsteps drew closer. In my mind, I could already see the silvery flash of Teddy's blade.

I ground my teeth, bolted out of the emergency stairwell, and sprinted toward the elevator.

I jumped inside and jabbed every button on the panel. "Please work. Please work."

If the comments were right, the main door was no longer an escape.

I was certain Teddy would reach the elevator before the doors closed. After that, nothing would stand between me and his knife.

At the last second, I darted out of the elevator and dove into the large dumpster in the lobby.

The comment section held its breath with me.

A minute later, Teddy emerged from the stairwell. Through a narrow crack beneath the lid, I watched him stop in front of the closed elevator. He looked up at the display above the door, calculating which floor I might be heading to.

My heart pounded. Thank God I had not stayed inside the elevator. Teddy seemed convinced I had escaped that way.

If he would just leave, I could make my move. I could take the elevator down to the basement parking level and get out from there.

Teddy turned toward the stairs.

As he was about to leave, my phone rang.

My heart stopped, and sweat soaked my clothes.

Who would call me at this hour?

Teddy halted midstep. He turned slowly, scanning the lobby until his gaze fixed on the dumpster.

Sharp, acidic fear surged through me. I nearly gagged, but I clamped a hand over my mouth.

His footsteps shifted direction.

He started walking toward me.

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