Grief transforms a law-abiding citizen into a serial killer on a quest for vengeance. Is it possible to return to a ‘normal’ life after committing acts most unspeakable?
A killer stalks the streets of Los Angeles. Victims of the butcher known as ‘The Feeder’ are mutilated while still alive, with parts severed and inserted in their mouths.
When Camille places a drunken birthday phone call to her twin, Sammie becomes worried about her safety and flies to Los Angeles to bring her home. After finding the aspiring actress-turned-prostitute slaughtered in a hotel room, grief-stricken Sammie steps into the role of copycat killer. Suspecting that the killer is Camille’s abusive boyfriend, Sammie embarks on a bloody quest for revenge, copying the modus operandi of a brutal serial killer known as The Feeder. Walking the streets disguised as Camille, Sammie resolves to lure the real Feeder out of hiding. Sammie seeks out drug dealers, pimps, rapists – all men who caused harm to Camille. The men are found disemboweled, force-fed their own body parts and carved up like human Picassos. The bloodbath will not end until Camille’s murder has been avenged.
The Feeder gives brutality a new meaning…
If you are offended by obscene language, graphic violence and scenes of mutilation, then this is NOT the book for you! Read at your own discretion.
...Hollywood Hunk Feeder’s Latest Victim
The headline screamed up at me from the morning edition of the LA Times. I scanned the front page article quickly, then tossed the paper aside in disgust. “Victim” was what they called him. Ironically, they had made no mention of all the young women, some of them barely more than children, that he had victimized. Being one of Hollywood’s hottest leading men apparently gave the scumbag license to use and abuse prostitutes and starstruck female fans as he saw fit.
Dirk Davis had some nasty fetishes that he liked to indulge with any woman unlucky enough to find herself in his company on a one-on-one basis. Some of his sick little sex games resulted in permanent scars for his victims, both of a mental and of a physical nature. Toward the end, Dirk had felt all of their pain. I had made damn sure of that.
A handful of his victims had come forward and tried to press charges against him, telling horrific tales of the sadistic things the Tinseltown bad boy had done to them. The victims who were brave enough to testify were effectively torn apart in court by Dirk’s lawyers. A celebrity with his wealth and status could easily assemble a ‘dream team’ of legal defense that made OJ’s team look like a pack of baboons. After discrediting and reducing to tears one victim after another, Dirk walked away a free man without even having to pay a dime of settlement to any of his accusers. His victims’ lives were ruined after having endured what they did at Dirk’s hands and then getting mentally raped again by his dicksnot lawyers.
Yes, Dirk had deserved what he’d gotten and I had enjoyed giving it to him; every damn second of it.
So now, I was apparently the serial killer known to the Los Angeles media as “The Feeder”. After just a mere handful of murders. Talk about dramatic! But then, this was Hollywood so it wasn't terribly surprising. The Feeder. It was a creepy nickname; one that evoked the chilling mental image of one who feeds upon his or her victims’ remains...
And now here I was, about to return home to Canada where I planned to resume my normal life and put all the killing behind me yet for some reason the need was still with me. I had not yet purged the hunger for revenge from my soul. How many more? How much blood needed to be shed before I once again felt pure?
As I pulled on my fishnet stockings and clipped the garter belt around my slender hips, I daydreamed back to a time not so long ago when I wasn’t a killer; back to a time when I still had a sister. Camille was my twin, even in death and not a day passed that I didn’t miss her, pine for her and seethe with outrage at her murder…
About the Author:
Mandy White is a Canadian author who resides on Vancouver Island, British Columbia. She primarily writes fiction in the horror genre, often featuring Canadian characters and locations. She is founder of WPaD (Writers, Poets and Deviants), a group of writers known for publishing charity anthologies for MS.
She is a fan of oxygen, shiny things and personal space. Right now, she is probably lurking in the forest somewhere, being one of those weird, reclusive writer types.
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