#Murdertrending

The only thing worse than the smell of burning plastic grass was the smell of burning man bun mixed with burning plastic grass.

She literally looks like Rainbow Brite orgasmed all over her

Doubt caused hesitation, and hesitation might get her killed.

Dee paused; her smile vanished. How many Painiacs had died by her hand? Sure, they were deranged serial killers and the world was better off without them, but did that absolve Dee of their deaths? Because that was the whole pretext of Alcatraz 2.0—justice served. Had Dee, in some way, become a Painiac?

Ethan stopped pounding on the glass and watched intently as Cecil set the scene. Slowly, a smile spread across Ethan’s face. “Oh my fucking God, are you serious here? Die Hard ? This is awesome!” Only Ethan would be excited that his imminent death would mimic a scene from his favorite movie.

Winners go home and fuck the prom queen (pg. 203)

There is no present. There is no future. Only you and your memories (pg. 141)

Nyles sighed. ‘I just...I’m glad you’re here.’ Dee arched an eyebrow. ‘Glad I’ve been sentenced to death on Alcatraz two-point-oh?’ ‘Well, yes. Kind of.’ Now it was Nyle’s time to blush. ‘I should stop now. Good night.

the perfect solution for America’s rising tide of violent crime. Even though most of the news reports that Dee had seen swore that violent crime in America was at an all-time low. But apparently, facts didn’t matter under this presidency.

And so things had changed on Alcatraz 2.0. Arrest reports throughout the country had been scoured, searching for the young, the attractive, the interesting. A little bit of money went a long way when you already controlled part of the criminal-justice system, and even a flimsy amount of evidence against a defendant could result in a conviction.

BIOHAZARD: QUARANTINE. AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL ONLY. “Where are we?” Dee whispered. “This,” Ethan said, pulling aside a cutaway portion of chain link, “is the end of the world.

above the mantel a large-screen TV was showing Jeremy’s final moments as he flailed around with a dozen shortfin makos in the frothy pink foam of his own gore. The Postman had added a GIF of a shark breaching the water, superimposed on the slo-mo replay of the feeding frenzy, and the hashtag #NiceTryJeremy flashed across the image every time Jeremy thrashed in the water.

When a former reality “star” was elected president of the United States, The Postman had used his clout to sell the federal government on the idea of capital punishment as entertainment.

Alcatraz 2.0. She’d heard the judge say it, but she still could hardly believe it. That sentence was usually reserved for the most infamous of convicted killers: mobsters, mass murderers, terrorists, assassins. They were notorious.

Slycer stood utterly still for a moment, then slowly raised a hand to the night-vision goggles and slid them off. Mara dropped the mask to the floor and smiled.

More importantly, it was a room Dee recognized. The Hemsworths and Michael B. Jordan were Monica’s celebrity crushes; Gucci Hangman, Monica’s obsession. The crocheted afghan on the bed. The cube-shaped mood-light alarm clock on the nightstand, glowing purplish blue. The half-empty bottle of lime sparkling water beside it. Every detail was exact. Dee was staring at Monica’s bedroom.

Western Sierra State Mental Hospital. Where Kimmi had been sent. “Are you okay?” Nyles asked, his hand on Dee’s back. “You look as if you’re going to be sick.” “I—I’m fine.” Dee pulled a chair away from the nearest table and sat down. The room spun around her. First the connection between Gucci and Monica’s death. Now Dr. Farooq, who’d been so instrumental in Dee’s conviction, was directly linked to the hospital where Dee’s kidnapper had been sent six years ago. Did this conspiracy go deeper than Dee had realized?

... then busted out with a series of dance moves that would have made Beyoncé proud (pg. 307)

But he had a big dick, and sometimes a girl just needs a big dick (pg. 106)

Nyles?' A sob caught in her throat. 'Nyles, say something.' His shoulder lay at an unnatural angle beneath his body, but she didn't see any blood from a head wound, and as she reached a tentative hand towards his throat, she practically shrieked with happiness. His pulse was strong. Nyles was still alive. She was so ecstatic, she almost didn't hear the voice behind her.

Oh, hello, my dear,’ Ynon said, her voice muffled by the mask. ‘What a lovely surprise.’ As if she’d had no idea Dee was coming and just happened to have half of the Michaels store inventory set up in the middle of a warehouse maze on Murder Island. Lady, please.

Rage ignited inside her. A burning, fiery anger like she’d never felt in her entire life. Fuck crying. What good would that do?

The fog came quickly, tumbling across the city like an avalanche racing downhill. Every second that passed seemed to show less and less of the skyline as it was swallowed by the gray clouds. Wetness permeated the air.