He Kills Three

Three women. All end up at the morgue. No signs of struggle. No witnesses. Just beauty, still and posed, like they’d been preserved on purpose. 

This isn’t a whodunit. It’s a study in misdirection, power, and charm. The women don’t scream because they don’t know they’re in danger. And the detective can’t stop the next one because she’s always a beat too late. Or looking in the wrong direction. 

There’s no violence onstage. No blood. Just a growing sense that something is off – and that whatever it is, it’s too late to stop. 

Tense, seductive, and disturbingly quiet, “He Kills Three” plays like a live autopsy of missed signs, beautiful surfaces, and the dangers we smile at on instinct. It’s a psychological thriller that will leave you… dead. 

Eight women. Four men. One set. Multiple locales.