Best Mystery Short Stories Novels & Stories

He didnÕt want people in the little town, thinking that he hadnÕt loved his Mel because he did. He also had the fleeting worry that the New York detective might find his actions suspicious and start sniffing around his tail instead of going after the real killer. According to Bobby, she wasnÕt the type, and from what heÕd seen so far, heÕd have to agree. Still, what heÕd done could be misconstrued and damn sure frowned upon if it got back to the wrong people.

Before I could pull one out, though, I heard a knock at my door. I spun towards the door, accidentally tipping over the ink bottle. I thought nothing of it; the ink had never spilled before. Even so, I decided to turn back and pick it up. Which is when I noticed that the ink had somehow spilled, and not only that, but it spilled right onto my finished manuscript, 1001 Dark Tales. I sat there staring for a second, completely forgetting about the knock on the door. Nothing happened, though, and relief instantly filled me.

I went ahead to kiss her forehead and wished her a good night rest before getting back into my car. When I got home,I couldn't cook any meal cos I was so famished and can't bring myself to cooking dinner. I ordered for pizza and ate it with beer. I had a shower later then watched news for a while before going to bed. I couldn't sleep and was imagining what it was gonna be like to have Linda on my bed cuddling. With that,I stood up and took my coat ;the one I wore to work today, wrapped it after inhaling her scent, placed it beside me on the bed and cuddled it as if it were Linda. Before I knew it,I was already dozing off."Strange things love can do to a man"I thought sleeping.

I get out of the car while Lester struggles to do the same. When I see the front door is broken, I pull out my gun and slowly approach. Lester joins me just as I reach for the door handle. Before I can open the door, we hear a gunshot. Lester jumps and falls on his ass while I hold my gun out in front of me and open the door. I could tell the sound came from the back. Lester is trying to get up, but I don't have time to help him. As soon as I get inside, I freeze. A scent in the shop makes me feel warm, and my heart begins beating so loudly that I can't hear anything. What is that incredible scent?

Maybe I'm thinking too much lately but what will I do if he does the same thing again? Lost in my thoughts, I walked past the hallway and boarded the lift to the fourth floor. *** I was standing in front of room 204 , still confused whether to knock or not . Should I return back? No..No..What the actual fuck am I even thinking? Clover will destroy everything If I did . But what's the certainty he won't if I abide by his orders. The door of Room number 204 opened and a tall and handsome man with muscular body , dark brown eyes and blonde hair walked out of it wearing a bathrobe.

Death awaits you, your darkest pleasures hitchhiked on the highway. On a rainy night at the police station between highways, reservations, between the mountains, following a highway, amidst the crimes of the dawn, among the nights of stars, among the crimes, the policemen death asked for a ride; Being that it's a collection of vampire/werewolf stories, investigation. Several horror tales, among several characters that pass through the city of Lovecraft County. So, follow the supernatural world, between changes, attacks of beasts and supernatural worlds, lives of terror and nightmares.

A moment later, a piece of paper slid through the narrow gap beneath my door. The footsteps retreated in haste. I peered through the peephole. The hallway was empty. I didn't touch the note, afraid of smudging fingerprints. Instead, I crouched and read the words on it: I know the truth about Edmund's death. Come to the big banyan tree in Greenfield Residences at 11 p.m. Don't call the police. The note was crafted with meticulous care—letters cut out from newspapers and books, pieced together like a ransom demand, leaving no trace of handwriting.

BEFORE YOU READ You have ten seconds to run. Tropes: Forced proximity, size difference, breeding kink, and primal chase play. This story features a fugitive criminal fueled by adrenaline and testosterone invading your safe space. Expect dirty talk, roughness, and intense possessiveness. (***) Belle I never should have opened the door to fear. Or maybe, deep down, I was always waiting for it.

In 1983 a Mrs Carson of New York was laid out in our coffin, presumed dead of hear disease. As mourners watched, she suddenly sat up, alive as you or I. Unfortunately her daughter dropped dead of fright on the spot. I don't own any of this stories. I found them in some creepy books. I'm thinking of writing my own scary stories, but not anytime soon. You can send me your short stories for a feature if you feel like it. Thanks for reading. Enjoy!I don't own any of this stories. I found them in some creepy books. I'm thinking of writing my own scary stories, but not anytime soon.

Third Person's POV Silence took over the room as the two continue to stare at one another. The only thing they can hear is the sound of their own breathing as well as the loud pounding of their heart. The first one to blink is the lady in white before she closes her eyes for a brief second as she vanishes into thin air. Aimee's eyes widened in surprise as her body moves on its own, her hand stretches trying to reach the lady. A feeling of desperation took a hold of her heart as she frantically search around the room trying to find her.