Grunkle Stan Mystery Shack Novels & Stories

Thankfully, I find the coast is clear and decide to make the final stretch to my house, if that’s what you could call the run down single room shack with an attached bathroom I found at eight years old. The way to my shack is uneventful, my eyes and ears alert for any movement that indicates the Police have found me, but luckily no one had. With a grin, I stop just before the current alleyway ends and look down both sides of the rundown street. Small bungalows make my little rundown shack look out of place, but it is enough for me to know that no one would think to check the unassuming building that I have been putting work into making is a decent home. With the coast clear, I run the short

He was happy that his grandmother had woken up, and he was happy to see the way she had looked when she immediately ran to the car to tell him that Grandma had woken up. He was even happier that she had waited for him in the room and asked if he had eaten dinner. This duplicitous woman still loved him after all. The answer he received was a long silence in the room. He raised his hand and pinched her cheek. There was no response. She had clearly fallen asleep. He smiled before closing his eyes as well. ... In the Stockton villa in Glanchester. In the courtyard Sherry was living in. She was embroidering in her bedroom.

Honestly, Ransom is so excited that he’s like a kid on Christmas morning, shifting in his chair and fidgeting with his fork until eggs go flying across the table. What gifts? Why do I not like the sound of that? Granny gives him a sweet smile. “After breakfast, dear.” She’s hardly taken anything for herself, and it makes sense because it’s clear she has a story to tell and doesn’t want to be distracted. Her bright green gaze lands on me, and I nearly gulp. I grasp my fork and lower my head to hide my discomfort. “None of you know Sharon, but here she is. She knows the basics, and that’s it. She’s asked, as I told you all, for proof that we are who we say we are. That’s rather difficult witho

I snapped with finality signaling for Stan to move the car. "Welcome to my humble abode," Stan said gesturing with his hand around the moderately decorated house. His walls were coated in white paint, his interior was warm and cozy except for the,- "Why do you have a wolf skull in your sitting room?" The horror on Mia's face mirrored the one I had on mine. Did they lure in their victim under the guise of a safe house? "You better not try anything funny with me." I glared at the two friends who had a blank look on their faces.

Each stride towards the warehouse was a step into an uncharted, perilous future that held the potential to reveal all of the meticulously guarded secrets. Long, moving shadows were produced on the concrete floor of the warehouse's enormous interior by shafts of light from broken windows that cut through the darkness. Carefully, Gregor took the lead, his gaze looking around him. Stacy's thoughts was full of unsolved questions: Who was that enigmatic stranger from before? How was he involved in the complex web of corporate conflict and family betrayals that had trapped them all?

There is a weak smell of pee, not human but some animal. “What if I dig my way out ?” I drag my foot over the dirt floor. “The shack has been dug two meters into the ground. There is a steel bottom down there and a hell of a lot of earth on top of it. So please wear yourself out”. Martin gives me a thumbs up. He kicks some of the dirt away, revealing a hatch to a small room filled with chains. “Time for a bit of bondage play girls”. He chuckles, attaching the first chain to a ring on the wall.

He barely talks to me on ordinary days, but on Christmas Eve he's like Santa's little helper, always around to help with the preparations. "Of course. Here you go, my dear little Stanley," smiling as I hand him the gravy boat. "And by dear, I mean deer, just like the ones on Santa's sled." I tease him, everyone laughed. "Ha ha ha! Very funny, Anna Banana," Stanley sounded furious, but no one paid attention to him. "By the way, Anna, what's in your pocket?" Everyone stayed quiet. As if waiting for something big to happen. We all knew that Stanley is a hardcore prankster. He will not stop at anything just to know everyone's weakness. I looked worriedly on my pocket. I started to reach my pocke

Shane gives me a long look. “You’re not a dirty little secret.” I blink. “I might want to be a dirty little secret.” “No.” He shakes his head and hauls me to the middle of the bench seat. I fight down a shiver as he buckles the seatbelt over my hips and then reaches beneath my skirt to drag his knuckles over my clit through my panties. He keeps his hand up my skirt and rubbing my pussy as he puts the truck in reverse and backs out. Shane waves to the neighbors still out talking, the same ones I watched while he ate me out, and they wave back. They have no idea that he’s dipping a finger into me at that exact moment. “Oh god.” I whimper.

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.

However, when her hand reached to twist the knob, a cold voice coming from behind froze her on the spot. "Were you trying to escape?!" Startled, her eyes widened as she swirled around. "G-good morning, Mr. Stanford." She greeted while clutching her thudding chest. "I thought that you were still asleep so I..." Leaning against the door frame of his kitchen, he replied in a lazy manner. "I'm a light sleeper." He said, "How about you? Why are you up this early? What are you up to, huh?" "I..." Seeing her so nervous, he approached her slowly and questioned.