روايات وقصص ضمن Murder Mystery For Adults

Her hands tightened around the case files, the paper crumpling beneath her grip. Was Damian Voss a suspect? Or was he something worse? Evelyn leaned back in her chair, rubbing her head, the weight of the evidence pressing down on her. It wasn’t enough to make an arrest, but it all pointed in one direction—Damian Voss. Billionaire. Businessman. Untouchable. And somehow, connected to these murders. Her thoughts were interrupted by a noise—something shifting outside her window. Evelyn tensed, reaching for her gun. She lived on the fourth floor. No one should be out there.

Death is chaos. The way her expression changed when I told her about the bodily fluids—that was when I knew. She thinks it’s simple. She thinks I walk in, shoot someone, and it’s over. But it’s never that easy. Murder is an art, and like any masterpiece, it requires time, patience, and precision. In a way, it’s a lot like stalking. Not the person necessarily, but the location, the details. Everything has to be perfect.

Alex and Victoria just shrugged, as if they really had no idea how to answer Liam's question. "How stupid of me to ask! It's obvious that this is a closed case! The secret is there! Isn't that right, Paul?" Liam shouted, asking Paul to justify himself. "Yes, it is. This is a mystery we have to solve. I'm sure that if we can solve the mystery of the murder in this closed room, we can solve the case that is causing a stir in the city. Because generally the cause of death is the same, it's just that this victim did not have his internal organs removed". Paul replied.

It was so real that she could smell the chilling scent of fresh blood as if the murderer had just committed a crime before her. "Little Specky, I know the case yesterday was also about dismembered bodies, but you have to know that they're not your parents. The murderer may not be the same person." Jefferson held her tighter and rubbed her forehead. He rested his chin on her head and added, "What you can do now is to try your best to find some clues and don't let yourself get stuck in this rut. Do you understand?"

I despised them almost as much as I despised being woken up from my sleep, I rolled my eyes before looking over at Justin, Justin was a tall lanky guy, three years my junior and completely obsessed with murders. “Rush, it is an extremely high profile case and there’s a lot of second guessing going around, let’s face it the Hudson’s are not short of enemies. They’ve been crawling out from the shadows for some time now.” there was a brief pause where Justin and I gave each other a knowing look, only a person with our experience would know that a person who is missing, is a person of interest. “If a person has nothing to hide, why would they run?” I said to Justin while raising an arched eyebro

“I’ve been writing, too.” I stared at him, utterly stunned. “You? Writing?” He laughed, a rich, joyful sound that carried on the wind. “Don’t look so surprised. You’re not the only one with a story to tell.” He pulled a small, black moleskine notebook from his coat pocket. “It’s not a memoir. It’s… well, it’s a mystery. About a grumpy, retired surgeon who gets pulled into solving a crime in his sleepy coastal town.” I burst out laughing, the sound mingling with the crash of the waves. “Arthur! You’re writing a murder mystery?”

MYSTIC HOLLOW Homicide . BY NAOMI INNOCENT . CHAPTER 45 . "Yh me too. And it baffles me allot. The killer has been killing kids and teenagers lately. Why is this middle aged man his target now?" Elena asked as she buried her face on her palms. "Ok, except for Phillips" she said finally, raising up her face. "Remember Phillips was killed because he saw the Killer's face?" Laura chipped in.

I desperately wanted to know but from the looks of it, Eric wasn't planning on telling me. Could he have committed a crime of some sort? That had to be it. But what? Murder? Theft? A heist? Maybe he was involved in some shady business deals or something that was so bad, it couldn't be spoken about. My mind was flooded with all these crazy scenarios, making up stories that I had only really seen in crime thriller movies and read about in books. That's what James Hadley Chase and Agatha Christie do to you.

Rose answered in a playful tone. "What were you searching for here, for which you...stayed outside whole night for days..and almost weeks?" I completed my sentence, struggling to find the right words before looking at Rose who was standing still, her sudden silent and erect posture making me even more suspicious. "I don't think it's really important to share 'cause it's just a trivial matter, you know all these murder mysteries-" "I love mysteries, you know that right? My bookshelf and closet are filled with books based on criminology and stuffs based on them though I'm a doctor by profession so you must know of my addiction for murder mysteries by now?"

I scream, but no sound comes. The vision shifts—cops at the scene, calling it a robbery gone wrong. But I see the truth now, my Moon Eyes cutting through the lie. No valuables taken, just papers missing from Dad’s desk. It was a hit, targeted, unsolved. My parents knew something—about the vault, maybe the spirit. I snap back, gasping, tears burning my cheeks. My knife’s in my hand, gripped so tight it hurts. “Murder,” I whisper, heart pounding. “They were killed for this.”