Mystery Fiction Short Stories Novels & Stories

In 1983 a Mrs Carson of New York was laid out in our coffin, presumed dead of hear disease. As mourners watched, she suddenly sat up, alive as you or I. Unfortunately her daughter dropped dead of fright on the spot. I don't own any of this stories. I found them in some creepy books. I'm thinking of writing my own scary stories, but not anytime soon. You can send me your short stories for a feature if you feel like it. Thanks for reading. Enjoy!I don't own any of this stories. I found them in some creepy books. I'm thinking of writing my own scary stories, but not anytime soon.

Until now, strange short stories had only very short stories. But from volume two I intend to add stories that have 10 to 20 captains as well. These stories are not so long nor have so much visibility as a separated book. For this reason, I decided to move all then into strange short stories, that is already a storybook of different themes.

Suddenly Celine felt this prickling sensation behind her neck, as if someone was watching. So she looked around, and her heart skipped a beat when she saw it was her mystery guy in the dark suit. She stared right back, issuing a challenge. ‘Hey there. Took you forever to notice me,’ she thought. ‘Let’s see who gives up first?’ She raised an eyebrow, and he grinned, so she smiled back. Celine felt like some communication passed between them in the few seconds they stared at each other.

He pulled out a shot gun and cocked it,a serious gaze crossing his face as he stared at the mansion. " We've gone through our plans and I know no one is having second thoughts."He stared at the other two. Daniel nodded. However, Annabelle who had been quiet throughout the ride to the place,said nothing. "Babe?" Daniel turned to her. " What's wrong?" "Honestly, I'm just having a strange feeling.Something just doesn't feel right." She sighed,running her hand through her hair. She wasn't a stranger to sudden intuitions but this one was way too strong. Something was amiss but she couldn't put her finger on it.

THE MYSTERY ABOUT HIM 👤🌖 🔥🔥 . Historical, Mythological and Mystical. . Chapter 1🩸 . . 🦋 THE TATTOO 🦋 By Destiny Godfrey . . The rain was vehement. It beats the ground without mercy. Angry thunder clapped loudly at the sky. The wind amplified it. I stood on the verandah of my class, along with my other classmates.

Madiha's voice was soft, as if she feared being overheard in their locked room. "What...? What?" Zamin was now completely awake, trying to understand her question and the train of thought that led to it. "Was Aunt Iman the girl Uncle Dabir loved?" Madiha's voice remained hushed, her hair tucked behind her ear. "Where is all this coming from? Did you have a dream or something?" Zamin struggled to grasp the connection between her thoughts and reality. "I haven't slept a wink. I've been thinking so much that my head is pounding with the possibility that aunt Iman might be that girl," Madiha explained her restless state.

Emma's eyes slowly opened, her mind foggy from the fitful sleep. She lay there for a moment, trying to shake off the lingering emotions from the previous night. But as she sat up and swung her legs over the side of the bed, she noticed something that made her heart skip a beat. On the bedside table, there was a small piece of paper with a note scrawled on it. Emma's heart racing, she picked it up and read the words: "Meet me at the old clock tower at midnight. Come alone."

I have never seen a man look as sexy as my mafia does in his suit shirt, his dress shoes and a pair of precum stained briefs. I crawl over to him and mouth at his cock through the fabrics like I have been starved all day long. I press my face in to inhale his musk and sweat and he groans in pleasure, surprised at my depth of nastiness. He has no idea how I long to feel him with all of my sense organs. I stick my tongue out and draw circles in the spot of the dark stain, tasting precum and sweat off the fabric. It's dirty and sick of me but it's a need I must satisfy.

Well, that answers whether or not there are more like me. Examining every square inch of the warehouse, he found no trace of anyone, save the victims. He smelled fear and terror everywhere, which was mirrored by the expressions locked on their faces. Hmm, the oldest corpse is nine days old, and the newest is from yesterday. Whoever did it is probably still in town. Mike's investigation was cut short, when he heard cars nearing the building. Fuck. He leaped straight up and went back out through the same skylight. Watching from the rooftop, he saw it was the police. He listened to them.

I went to the living room and, as expected, found the pair of underwear I was looking for in his bag. Downstairs, I called my best friend. "Help me look up someone. I have shopping records." I started the car, planning to visit the real estate office to check on property transactions. Suddenly, I felt something sharp poking at me from underneath the seat. I reached down and pulled out a black lace bra. Clearly, it matched the underwear. This car was usually Milton's—since I worked near home, I usually took the subway. This meant their entanglement that night had probably started in this very car.