Classic Mystery Novels & Stories

THE MYSTERY ABOUT HIM 👤🌖 🔥🔥 . Historical, Mythological and Mystical. . Chapter 1🩸 . . 🦋 THE TATTOO 🦋 By Destiny Godfrey . . The rain was vehement. It beats the ground without mercy. Angry thunder clapped loudly at the sky. The wind amplified it. I stood on the verandah of my class, along with my other classmates.

It would be 12 AM soon and the deed need to be done before 11:59 PM. "Have a nice sleep." She said with a malicious smirk as she disappeared. She walked away from the backyard and put her cloak over her head as she moved towards the pack borders. "Who is there?" One of the pack patrols yelled and she hurriedly ran and crossed the log of wood that indicated the end of the pack. She looked back and smiled victoriously. "Wait for me." She thought with a giggle before stomping away in the dark night. * * * Lyra sat up instantly. Something pricked in her mind and she could not sleep. She does not know why. She sniffed in the air and this pungent smell made her wrinkle her nose. "Whose scent is th

“It’s tacky… like red lipstick on your collar.” “What the hell are you talking about?” “The lady left her signature… chérie,” she dropped in a sweet tone. “Her perfume… It’s all over you.” Christophe’s eyes splintered into hers, alight with disturbing mockery. A slumbrous smile of staggering charisma glued her gaze to him. “What a wonderful private eye you would make... I can see you sheltering from the rain in a doorway, watching out for the evidence of some poor bastard cheating on his wife! Unhappily for you, Lara, I’m not a married man.”

The blonde beauty sipped on her morning coffee while reading Seattle Daily, Downing the rest of her liquid drug in one huge gulp, she tied up her long blonde curls into a bun at the top off her head while sighing, two missing billionaires tofind and a murder case to solve, just another day at the office. It has been exactly 24 hours since Grayson and James Hudson have been missing and a dead body has been found in their pent house. The circumstances around their suspicious suddendisappearance makes it even more of a challenge to work on finding their spoiled asses, keeping all information on the down low has been the biggest challenge thus far. The media are like hungry lions waiting to poun

Cassie said with disdain "Nah it's okay, I have you guys now, right?" "So about the history class I have a question, the story was kinda interesting, about the history of Wales" I said starting a topic "You mean the Wales homicide?" Brian asked "The homicide that happened years ago?" Cassie asked almost at the same time with Brian's "Yeah, about the supernatural beings behind the homicide and stuff" I don't know why I think the story is interesting and I wanted to know more. "That is some total bullshit myth the people of wales decided to believe, you know my grand dad was a mayor then, and he make sure to catch the culprit and locked him up in prison, and according to him he is a psychopath

Yeah, he'd learned to practice patience, but dealing with the police while they questioned Betty had just about driven him to the edge of reason. He opened the car door for her, holding her elbow as she climbed in. Daylight had waned, and the parking garage was dimly lit, the sound of other hospital visitors echoing through the cement structures. Betty listened for other things. Furtive footballs on the pavement. The click of a gun safety being released. The slide of fabric or the soft huff is a breath. Someone had tried to kill Dan just a few weeks ago, and there was no reason to believe that person would be content to let him live. The road went quiet as he stepped around the car. The soun

“Yes, he is given to ungovernable rages and once he has a bee in his bonnet it is impossible to clear it until he is totally satisfied. Jason is not a normal man but he is a shrewd man and that is why he asked for your help.” I touched her arm gently. “I’ll see what I can do.” I paused for a moment on the pavement waiting for a lull in the traffic before crossing to the other side of Chandos Avenue, totally baffled. That was what might be termed as the first act of an Agatha Christie mystery. The second act followed the very next day, opening with a call on my mobile from Detective Inspector Paul Silver. “Hello John,” he said. “I’m calling you from 87 Chandos Avenue. The home of Mr and

she asked carefully. He met her gaze. “Perhaps.” The river moved beside them, glinting under hesitant sunlight. Clara felt something stirring again — not hope. Not certainty. But curiosity. Dangerous, undeniable curiosity. And as they stepped into the café once more, she realized something quietly unsettling: The riddles weren’t random. They were leading somewhere. She just didn’t yet know where. But the town was listening. And so was she.

Alpha Mayhem says. Libby and Mother Agnes are speaking to one another in an old language. It is not like the one I heard Bruce speaking in but something different. Libby and Mother Agnes eventually finish their discussion. "We should go now. We would get there about the time it gets dark. Mother Agnes says there is an old speakeasy that we can go in and surprise Umbra. The tunnel is closed off and can only be opened with a password. It is our best shot at killing Umbra and maybe rescuing Bruce," Libby says.

“But we’re not leaving them any clues and how can they work out what really happened if we don’t actually know ourselves.” “Look, it’s like Sacheverell Sitwell said . . . ” “Not this old quote again, you got that from Cold Hand in Mine. I read Aickman too you know.” “Good for you, doesn’t mean it doesn’t bear repeating. ‘In the end it is the mystery that lasts and not the explanation.’” “Why can’t we just have a proper ending for once?”