Mistery Novels & Stories

I wondered. All I know right now is the killer wouldn't kill me probably because I have something he wants. So he thinks it's better to kill everyone who loves me. He's killing me without even touching me. I walked slowly as I moved cautiously towards the door. I opened it at once and the while sitting room was a mess. 'What the hell happened here' I thought. Cans of beer, bottles of alcohol, scattered pieces of paper, broken glasses. I put my hand on the sofa to support myself from the shock of what is in front of me and a broken piece of bottle cut my hand a bit.

We made it back to base about halfway through the day. Drake had mysteriously vanished in the middle of the night, leaving us by ourselves. We thought it was fishy at first. But then after all it was better than being peppered by questions. I don't know why he was so interested, or anyone for that matter. We kept our heads low and did as we where asked. I suppose its the mystery that's so appealing. What wasn't appealing was the truth behind our secrecy. The less that people knew, meant the less chance people tried to become our friends.

Mary chose this dress because she said it matched my eye color. I went down the stairs, but when I heard Luther's voice, my legs stopped abruptly. I listened to him; he was shouting at someone. I turned around and followed his voice as his shouts were growing louder with every step. Sauntering towards the door where the voice had been coming, I quietly opened the door and peeped through it.

It was how they always worked. Only right now it wasn’t working and they weren’t enjoying it. They shouldn’t have held the meeting at Sam’s apartment, the place held too many recent memories. “It doesn’t matter.” “Of course it matters, it’s a key plot driver. It’s like having a murder mystery and never finding out who does the murder.” “But that’s the point, you just said the key word.” “What key word—murder?” “No, mystery, that’s what make it so unnerving, the audience is never sure who sends him the links, we let them work it out for themselves, so they project their own fears onto it.”

Mike exclaimed with a horrible grin on his lips. Casya became nervous because of it, she thinks that he would be involved and that something bad might happen due to Mike's eagerness to find the killer. "Dark Snake, wherever you are I will surely find you," Mike whispered underneath his breath, as a grin flashed on his lips. P A R A D I S E C L U B Noisy, lights on and off, and a foul smell of cigarettes and alcohol welcomed Misty's nose as she entered the Paradise Club.

He was already headed to the prison cells. I met him there and he smiled at me, "Good night?" he asked wiggling his eyebrows, "But seriously.....fuck up again and I will be pissed." he stated stone-faced. "I won't. I am seriously making up for lost time. Now to find out what these asshats want with our girl." I said and we walked down the stairs. I could smell the rogues before I saw them. Rogues had a certain smell to them and they smelled like the earth and mushrooms. I need to ask the Goddess when I die why mushrooms...out of everything why mushrooms?!?!

“Interesting. Didn’t know college girls needed fancy shit like this for ‘studying.’” Heat flooded Mia’s cheeks. “That’s… it’s for a costume party. Give it back.” Instead of listening, he stepped closer, towering over her petite frame. Up close, he was even more intimidating—muscles visible under his shirt, a predatory glint in his hazel eyes. “You’re shaking, Mia. Scared of getting kicked out on the street?” His voice dropped lower. “Or scared I’ll find out what else you’re hiding in here?”

"So forgive me if I don't fully believe the family friend part." "I broke two. The third one broke itself, I merely reported the timeline." Bianca's eyes moved to Maya with open, unhurried curiosity, the exact kind of attention I'd been dreading all evening. "So. You're the mystery woman. Maya, is it? I have to say, Victoria's description didn't do you justice. She made you sound like a con artist. You look more like someone who actually likes him." "I do," Maya said, steady, and I felt something warm move through me that had nothing to do with the champagne.

I defended, knowing it wasn’t entirely true. “I’ve made a background research on you Miss Mia Cruise and I know for a fact that this office is like your secret lair, you still mourn the puppy you lost to a tragic accident three years ago even more than your late father and you are a huge fan of De Brans bar and go there every weekend to get drunk,” he said and caught his breath right on time. I gave him a puzzled look which slowly turned into a wicked smirk. “I’m sure this is an invalid case in the court of law,” I said, resting my head on my jaw.

Before entering the school, I heard a few things about this mysterious place situated on the mountainous side of Mystic Heights, a city in the heart of London. Mystic Academy, as it was known, was a mixed school primarily for kids with some uniqueness from wealthy homes. The requirements to get in seemed unattainable for mere humans, as I learned. It had a reputation as a school for "freaks," and the general belief was that only freaks would gain admission. That label didn't bother me much, considering I'd been called a freak all my life by my stepmother and her children—even their friends. My stepmother often locked me up in the cellar, praying for God to unpossess me, as she believed I was