Mystery 101 Book Novels & Stories

Most things are about detectives and all their boring stuff but something tells me to go through it because I might know a thing or two. I've opened almost all the books on the first shelf. Turns out detective books are not so bad. I also passed out my time by checking some of the murder novels on the shelve. One really caught my interest. Dying to call you by Elaine Viet. It's about a girl finding her sister's murderer and all that.

“Who would put mint in a popcorn?” “I would,” Thomas intervened, shrugging. “Just to know what it tastes like.” “I’ll tell you what it tastes like: weird and not delicious.” “Shh! Shut up. The movie’s starting,” Leia shushed. Alice finally found peace when the movie started. It was a mystery where the detective was being played by a serial killer, leaving small clues in each of his victims. Alice liked mystery movies and comic books. It tickled her mind just like how science experiments did. It was a puzzle for her, a puzzle that was screaming and begging to be solved. However, she knew that it was different for murder cases. It was much more complicated.

Audrey revealed. She hurriedly rushed to her room in search of the book; she opened the shelf and there it was the ancient book of mysteries. She took the heavy book back to the living room, everyone was seated, they had placed Zedicus' body on the table. Audrey began to open pages of the big book and continued as she searched for any solution to this mystery but it seemed none was coming forth.

I take one last look at myself until I strike a pose and say,"Perfect," I hear mom from downstairs telling me to hurry up, so I grab my book bag and put on my glasses and was about to leave my room until I remember my most important thing. I go to my book-shelf and pull out a book that reads, Gone Girl by Giliian Flynn on the front cover. I've always loved mysteries; I can't remember one day where I wasn't watching Criminal Minds or Goosebumps in my room.

I read the words slowly. “For Leo when he’s ready.” Grayson blinked. “Well ” I opened the box slowly. Inside were letters. Dozens of them. And one small notebook. I flipped open the first page. My father’s handwriting filled the paper. “If you are reading this, it means the truth has finally come out.” I looked up at Grayson. A new mystery had just begun. And this time it was one my father had left behind for me.

Everyone was just strange. One day, in between classes, I finally found some spare time to slip away to the library. For a few days, I'd been meaning to do some research on Moon Wolves, a topic that had piqued my interest since I arrived at college. I went through the shelves and pulled down dusty old tomes and flipping through their pages. I finally found the book. This was what I had been searching for, and a chance to get to know more about the mysteries of my world and the hidden truths beneath. I signed at the checkout before making my way back to my dorm, but my excitement was cut short by an unexpected encounter.

"Just Black Rose business. The usual chaos." She didn't look convinced but she didn't push, and I was grateful for that. We sat there in the quiet, the afternoon light streaming through the window and painting everything in shades of gold and amber. She started telling me about the book she'd been reading, some mystery novel that Elias had sworn she'd enjoy, and I found myself listening not to the words but to the sound of her voice, the way it rose and fell with her enthusiasm. "And then the detective realizes the killer has been right there the whole time, hiding in plain sight," she said, her hands moving as she spoke, animated in a way I rarely got to see. "I didn't see it coming at all.

Keeping the book on the bed I tried to open the lock and thankfully it Opened. "I need time alone, " I told him and glad he understood. He walked out of the room and I went through the book page by Page. I was trying to find something that would give me help in finding the culprit of this case. I turned the page one by one looking into each and every corner of the page. I was almost at the end of the pages and didn't find anything. There were just two pages left. I turned the page and felt stickiness on my hands.

They were certainly right. Given the weight of the book, I did not expect it to be only three entries, it looked like whoever wrote it had planned to write more but could not. I sigh in exasperation and tuck the book back into my bag all the while trying to figure stuff out. Someone wrote those entries for a reason, apparently hid it from prying eyes and made it only visible to one person — me. And now wants me to find him or her, only if I know who the hell the person is. How I fit into all of these happenings is still a mystery, but one thing I learned from my Mother was; a reader never shies away from a good mystery. What would my mother do if she was here? I had no idea but all I know is