Crime Thriller Novels & Stories

I broke my leg in a car accident last week and had been stuck at home recovering, unable to go anywhere. Just as I was starting to go stir-crazy, a couple moved into the house next door—the one that had been empty for ages. I pressed my ear to the wall, catching every sound of them making love, and even recorded quite a bit. Still, I never expected something so sinister to happen. The man next door sounded exactly like my dead husband! I moved my phone closer to the wall and listened carefully. Suddenly, a scream exploded through the wall. “Lindy, you’ll die for this!” My scalp went numb. My husband was mute. The only time he ever spoke in his life… was the night I forced his head into a bucket of water. How did the man next door know my husband’s last words before he died?

There was a lovely and gifted girl named Cindy, she adored her father since she was a child. Unexpectedly, her father commit sin against her wife, Cindy's mother. And Cindy witnessed that on her 7th Birthday party. While chasing the truth she turns out to be the victim of car accident, the one who hit was her father's mistress. Cindy's dream is to become a cop. She was inspired by her father's dream but she will pursue this dream to prepare revenge. She received criticism and got bullied because of not having a father. When she already studying in High School crime started, all shred of evidence got burnished. Years had passed, she already taking Bachelor of Science in Criminology. She has a tempre that you can tell like she was the murderer. She met the president also the top student of their class named Gamir, she treated him like her rival. Gamir has only one best friend named Jacob, the brother of the first ever victim. Cindy has a bestfriend that she adores the most more than anyone else, suddenly Cindy found out that they have the same father. Yet, crime will prevail, guess who's the one responsible for crimes committed and what's the character of mysterious murderer.

SARAH Green is twenty-one years old, beautiful, broken, depressed. She couldn't leave behind the sorrow of the death of her late boyfriend. Her father wants to see her happy. He wants her to tie the knot with Luce Edwards. She doesn't want to do anything with this. Her boring life takes a turn for the worse and something hidden for her in the future when she goes to meet Luce Edwards as her father insists. An incident! And everything changes. She saw the ghost of her late boyfriend. Louis!

Volume 1: INHERITED SECRETS Raine is the daughter of a renowned detective who died in a murder case. Determined to unravel the truth behind the death of her love ones, she had to follow in his father's footsteps of mixing with the murky waters of murder and mystery. However, the hole she dug herself turned out deeper than she thought. When she became involved in a crime she did not commit, the justice she yearned for her parents would be at risk. Raine and her squad would have to face an unimaginable series of crimes and thread along the dreary path of solving cases.

My roommates booked a New Year's Eve light show table—five hundred per person—and started urging me in the group chat to transfer the money. I quietly sent a screenshot of my account balance. "You guys go ahead," I wrote. "I haven't even scraped together my tuition yet." They replied with a string of mocking "haha"s. Our dorm leader, Giselle Murdoch, even posted on her social media with the caption: [The first step to crossing class boundaries is distancing yourself from people who kill the mood.] Just after midnight, they sent me a photo from the light show and said, "Too bad you're not here." I frowned, confused, when my counselor's call cut in—her voice tight with urgency. "Did you invite your roommates to the light show? The organizers said they never even checked in! They're missing!"

As the news broadcast reported a random serial killing near my residential complex, I knew—I had been reborn once again. In my first life, my husband insisted on going out in the middle of a snowstorm to buy weapons for self-defense. I locked every door and window, waiting at home, anxiety clawing at my chest. I never imagined the killer could pick locks. Before I could even react, a blade plunged into me, and I died on the couch. In my second life, I didn't hesitate. I hid in a concealed storage room, holding my breath. But the door was still pulled open. A man wearing a rabbit mask stared straight at me. "Found you," he said. In my third life, I ran to the police station. I rushed inside and told the officer on duty that the killings weren't random—that the murderer was coming for me. They looked at me like I'd lost my mind. Then my husband arrived in a hurry and took me away. But the moment we reached our front door, a heavy hammer smashed into the back of my head. Through the blinding pain, I forced my eyes open, but I never saw who killed me. Now, staring at the grave expression on the news anchor's face, agony surged through every inch of my body. Rebirth isn't a reset. The damage accumulates—and sooner or later, it will torture me to death. Without hesitation, I walked into the kitchen and set a pot of oil to heat. And I waited… for the moment the lock began to turn.

I was lying in bed, scrolling on my phone with my pregnant belly heavy in front of me, when a local news alert popped up. 'Wife killed in suburban murder case. Husband stabbed her to death after she refused intimacy during pregnancy.' I clicked it open, only to realize the article was dated for tomorrow. And the killer's name? My husband's. At first, I thought it was some sick prank or a glitch on the site. But then I saw the photo attached to the piece: our wedding picture. My face had been completely blurred out. The moment my heart seized, the bedroom door creaked open. My husband stood there, licking his lips, his smile so chilling it made my blood run cold. "Honey, I want you tonight."

During the annual awards gala, I stepped out to use the restroom. When I came back, my year-end bonus was gone, canceled for allegedly assaulting a new coworker, Elan Crowe. In my first life, I desperately tried to prove my innocence by showing my fitness tracker’s movement data, proving I had been in the bathroom. Calder Roane, the department head, flew into a rage. "Everyone in the department saw you hit him. And you still want to deny it?" I struggled and explained frantically, but in the chaos, I accidentally fell down the stairs and died on the spot. In my second life, I took medical leave and skipped the gala entirely. I never expected that just past noon, the police would surround my home. "Lyra Vale, you’re suspected of intentional homicide. You need to come with us." Elan’s enraged family had then rushed forward and stabbed me repeatedly. I died again. In my third life, I ran to the city plaza, started a livestream, and rapped on camera, turning every viewer into my alibi. That night, the police still came. "The evidence is conclusive. Please come with us." At the station, they pulled up surveillance footage. It clearly showed me sneaking into the gala hall, arguing with Elan, then picking up a knife and stabbing him straight in the back. I was completely stunned. Three days later, I took a bullet. After endless rebirths, I finally laughed in anger. This time, I stormed straight into the gala hall, pressed a knife across Elan's throat, and said, "This is a kidnapping."

Rae Silverstein is a private investigator who works on many cases in the past even until now. She's the Sherlock Holmes of the 22nd Century. After two years of absence, the serial killer made its move and kills the nightless city of Theister City. The famous serial killer with the codename "Cannibal". It is the same killer who killed her mother and left her alone with his father who works as a lawyer. It's up to Detective Rae and her partner in crime Jae Min to solve the perfect murder of the 'Cannibal' as she accidentally delves herself in an unexpected romance she won't even anticipate.Update: 2 chapters per week

I gave birth prematurely, just twenty days before the due date. Two hours after I entered the surgery room, I had a stillborn baby. I did not cry at all. I did not even spare a glance at the dead baby. I endured the pain from childbirth and calmly walked into the hospital nursery. After the door was tightly shut, I turned down the temperature of the air-conditioning. The temperature inside the nursery would be too cold for newborns to bear after an hour. The doctors and parents were begging me on their knees to let their babies live. They screamed and cried. They said I was a mother and hoped that I would understand. Instead, I laughed and said, “Yes, I was a mother. But my baby died!” The gynecologist knelt on the floor and begged, “We may be at fault for not being able to save your baby, but these babies are innocent! “Please don’t be reckless just because you lost your baby! You’re so young. You’ll have more babies in the future.” I gritted my teeth and roared, “But my baby isn’t dead! “She’s still alive. I’ll give you one hour. Bring her back to me!” But I was unsure if she would still be alive after an hour.